#I MADE him silly. I require it for my own sake | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oopsimbug · 1 year ago

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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

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jegulusficrecs · 29 days ago

Text

Sober Thoughts

By bizarrestars, moonymoment

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Summary: James doesn't know why Regulus hates him. Regulus doesn't know why James likes him. They never expect to find out, but when they do, it changes everything.

***

"Hey!" James blurts out, alarmed, and maybe he does have a thing for people who are mean to him, because it's so clear to him like this, with Regulus trying to close yet another door, and James only feeling the urge to get inside grow larger with each push against his weight—yes, yes, this is something. It's a game, and it's not. It's a game, and James doesn't want to win; he wants to keep playing and level up forever. "Reg, wait, just—"

"No visitors today," Regulus says, then gives a weak, deadpan cough. "I'm afraid I'm feeling a bit under the weather, so for your own sake—"

"Cough in my mouth for all I care," James says, rolling his eyes. "Just let me in."

"You're disgusting," Regulus mutters on the other side of the door, though his grip goes slack, so James proceeds to trip inside and nearly land on his face.

James rights himself just in time and beams at him.

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Regulus/James

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Words: 33,740

Chapters: 2/2

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My Thoughts: MISCOMMUNICATION MISCOMMUNICATION MISCOMMUNICATION they are both so silly. I love them. I actually even got up and made myself scrambled eggs because of this one :/ haha

(sign in required)

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@klarolinexluv <3

#james potter #jegulus #jegulus fic recs #regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker #fanfic #ao3

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ithisatanytime · 1 year ago

Video

youtube

Samurai - Jazztronik

its a little silly i know, but whats amazing is that if you read hagakure with the idea that you are a samurai and your lord is god, jesus christ, the overlap is actually absurd. in fact i think if someone had only read the gospels and then read hagakure with what i said in mind, they would be a better christian than a man who had spent his life studying the bible and attending church, better by miles in fact. what is a lord to a modern man? we have “bosses” we have “land lords” but these arent really lords in the biblical sense. i would consider it required reading for a christian so they learn not to take their own lives so seriously, or rather they learn to be willing to throw it away for the sake of their lord, hagakure states that the way of the samurai is death, that if given the choice between living comfortably or dying painfully for the sake of filial duty they would quickly choose death. but thats because they served lords of flesh and blood who themselves also died, but my lord is eternal and anyone who serves him will not die. for that reason men bravely chose to be fed to lions and burned at the stake for the sake of jesus christ knowing hed overcome death itself on the cross, recently i read a story about christian samurai who visited the west, some of the first visitors of their kind since japan was famously isolationist for hundreds of years and this retinue of christian samurai was treated with the most amazing hospitality in europe, even having audience with the pope and kings and queens, but when they finally made it back to japan years later the situation had changed and christians were facing prosecution, one of them was tortured to death and he chose that rather than deny christ and i cried reading about it, because as hagakure records “nothing runs deeper than giri” (duty, burden of obligation).

“ Lord Naoshige once said, "There is nothing felt quite so deeply as giri. There are times when someone like a cousin dies and it is not a matter of shedding tears. But we may hear of someone who lived fifty or a hundred years ago, of whom we know nothing and who has no family ties with us whatsoever, and yet from a sense giri shed tears." “

the man who recorded their journey to the west himself would deny christ to avoid persecution, but on his death bed he held rosary beads and recited the lords prayer until his last breath. now im not a fan of catholicism nor rosary beads, nor am i fan of denying christ to spare yourself death or torture but i know hes in heaven now, because christ died for all those sins, his wages were paid, and he believed on him.

#youtube

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wandaromanova · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do a fluffy wanda one (with a little angst because of course) where reader and wanda are best friends, reader wants more, but thinks wanda is interested in vision so she doesnt say anything. And then one day a mission goes wrong, and reader gets into an accident that results in her getting powers, and it makes wanda wake up and confess her feelings?

Requited Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, injury, that’s all!

A/N: hello! i hope you enjoy what i’ve created out of your request, anon! sorry i couldn’t think about how i could incorporate the powers part of the request! not proofread, so i apologize for any grammatical errors! join my taglist here <3

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Y/N L/N are your typical best friends who refuse to admit their feelings for each other.

Word Count: 3.3K (had a lil too much fun with this)

(gif is not mine)

You and your best friend, Wanda, had been friends practically since the moment she had joined the team. Being the youngest Avenger, you were so excited that there would finally be another member that was close to your age. Despite the events of Sokovia, you didn’t fear the woman. If anything, it only made the urge to get closer to her stronger.

Her powers absolutely mesmerized you. From the color of her powers to the different ways she could use them to her advantage; it was mind blowing how much power she had literally at her fingertips. As time went on, you and Wanda became very close. You’d always have movie nights together in your room, which eventually led to the Sokovian woman peacefully sleeping next to you in your bed.

Not only was Wanda drop dead gorgeous, but she was genuine and humble. She had confided in you about the many different traumas she had been through and expressed how the surreal amount of grief constantly consumed her. It broke your heart to know that such an amazing person was put through so much.

Her past could’ve easily turned her into a villain, but she decided to go the opposite direction. She came to the conclusion that her powers could help others and that’s what she had chosen to do in Sokovia and up to now. It was why she had agreed to join the Avengers in the first place. Wanda knew how awful the world could be and she wanted to be there for people the way that her family had been before they passed. The amount of respect you had for Wanda was immeasurable.

Over the span of two years, you and Wanda became joined to the hip. Wanda didn’t even sleep in her own bed anymore. Before, she would just accidentally fall asleep in your room or sneak into your room in the late hours of the night to sleep with you. But now, she just barged into your room every night and slept there. She said that you kept the nightmares she had at bay and you were more than happy to be there for her if it meant she got a full night’s rest.

You both jumped at any opportunity you guys could to be on the same mission as the other. You not only wanted to spend time with her, but you wanted to protect her. Lord knows that Wanda of all people could handle herself, but it kept you at peace when you were with her; knowing that she had you to back her up. Naturally, you fell in love with your best friend.

At first, you thought you were just confusing your special platonic friendship with Wanda for romantic feelings. But sometimes you caught yourself wanting to kiss Wanda. You knew damn well that friends don’t daydream about making out with each other. So, yeah, you definitely had feelings for Wanda, but there was one thing standing in your way; Vision.

Vision basically joined the team at the same time Wanda did. He was created during the Ultron situation and has been an Avenger since then. Wanda and Vision were very close. They weren’t as close as you and Wanda were, but he was a close second. They had a bond over the mind stone that you couldn’t ever compete with. This fact discouraged you and forced you to keep your mouth shut. You’d rather keep your feelings to yourself and suffer in private than risk your friendship with Wanda.

I mean, you didn’t even know if Wanda was into girls! She could be as straight as a wooden ruler and you would most definitely embarrass yourself if you told her. Vision wasn’t exactly a man by any means, he was a robot. If Wanda were to like Vision that must mean you had a chance right? Not to be an ass, but he’s literally a hunk of metal. Regardless of all these thoughts, you knew at the end of the day that you would have to hide your feelings for the sake of maintaining the relationship you currently have with the Sokovian.

You did pretty good at hiding your feelings for awhile. You acted as if everything was normal and not like you were emotionally crying out inside every time you saw Wanda with Vision. It began to get too much when you had caught sight of the pair cooking Paprikash in the communal kitchen. Cooking was something you and Wanda used to do together. It was kind of your thing. It may seem silly, but watching her do something with Vision that used to be sacred to you both hurt.

You began to distance yourself the closer Wanda and Vision got together. What sucked even more was that Wanda didn’t even acknowledge your sudden distance. She no longer slept in your room, opting to spend her nights with Vision. You were dying inside and Wanda didn’t even care to notice.

You had a mission to get to today. Usually, Wanda would be down in the hangar whenever you were going on a mission without her, but she wasn’t there today. She was probably off somewhere with Vision, again. It stung that Wanda didn’t even want to see you off. She was so preoccupied with Vision that she didn’t even give you a second thought. A toaster was stealing your best friend who you just so happened to be madly in love with away from you. And you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

So, you reluctantly got onto the Quinjet with Steve who was accompanying you on the mission. Fury only sent you two in for this mission because it was a simple one. It didn’t require the entire team to complete. You both were to capture and detain the scientist responsible for the latest human experimentations at the hands of Hydra. From the intel gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D, their security wasn’t that bad so it would be a walk in the park for you and Steve. You had just left and you already desperately wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity in the comfort of your bed.

But first, you had to get this mission over with. The Quinjet landed a little far away from the small Hydra base. You and Steve made your way out of the jet and began to trudge your way toward the building. As you guys got closer, Steve stopped abruptly.

“No matter what, we stick together okay? Just because this should be an easy mission, doesn’t mean we should let our guard down. Understand?” He lectured you sternly as he stared at you intensely.

“Yeah. I got it, Cap.” You replied to him dismissively as you continued to make your way toward the building. You took note of the five guards that were guarding the entrance and gave Steve a nod before you both sprung into action.

After you guys had taken down the entrance guards, you both sneakily made your way into the building. It was pretty easy to find your target, seeing that the building was the size of a house. You and Steve barged into the room, the scientist whipping around quickly and freezing in shock at the sight of you both.

Steve quickly charged at the man and placed him into handcuffs. As Steve pulled the man up by the collar, forcing him to his feet, a thought crossed your mind. This is too easy. Only five guards and the professor was just conveniently in here? This had to be a setup.

Before you could voice your concerns to Steve, you felt a sharp pain rip through your shoulder as Hydra agents flooded into the room. You fell to your knees in pain as Steve threw the target to the ground. He quickly began to fight as many agents as he could. You stood up as you tried to temporarily forget the pain. You began to take on agents yourself. Despite being injured, you kicked their asses with ease.

You were down to the last agent while Steve was pulling the scientist back up to his feet, much more aggressively this time. For some reason, your thoughts went to Wanda. How would she react to your injury? Would she even bother to visit you to make sure you were okay?

Unfortunately, you had chosen the wrong time to become distracted by your thoughts of Wanda. While your thoughts were racing, you failed to notice the glint of a knife in the agent’s left hand. As you blocked one of his punches, he quickly stabbed you right in the stomach. At this, Steve jumped in to help you and made quick work of knocking out the man who stabbed you.

You fully fell to the floor this time, gasping for air. Not only were you shot, but now you got stabbed. Seriously? Did god decide you weren’t already having a shitty enough time? Steve quickly picked you up in his arms in a panic. He carried you to the Quinjet while making sure the scientist was following behind you both. Steve placed your body onto the medical table that was in the Quinjet, handcuffed the man to a railing, and sped off to the compound. He took note of how much blood you lost; it was a lot to say the least. If he didn’t get to the compound soon, he feared you wouldn’t make it; and that wasn’t an option.

The 30 minute trip to the compound turned into a 15 minute ride. Steve quickly rushed you into the medical wing of the compound and placed you into the care of Doctor Helen Cho. He knew he had to tell the team about what happened. The Avengers were a family, and you being the youngest meant you were like a child to them, well besides Wanda obviously.

Steve hurriedly made his way into the living room of the Avenger’s living quarters and made sure Jarvis informed everyone that it was an emergency. As Steve entered, everyone turned to face him with worry present on each of their faces.

“What’s wrong, Rogers? Is everything okay?” Natasha asked as she looked over his body. There was an insane amount of blood all over his star-spangled suit. “It’s Y/N.”

At Steve’s words, everyone in the room stood in shock as their jaws dropped. But no one’s feelings could compare to Wanda’s. She abruptly stood up from the couch and made her way towards Steve.

“What about her? What happened to her?” Wanda began to get angry as hints of her powers made their way to her eyes. Steve took a step back and looked at Wanda before returning his gaze back to the other people in the room. You could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room.

“We went on a mission together. It was supposed to be an easy in and out thing. But we were setup. She got shot in the shoulder and stabbed in the abdomen. She’s in the medical wing right now.” Steve spoke strongly, attempting to remain calm for the sake of the team, but he was terrified inside. Your state refused to leave his mind. Your limp body in his arms as your warm blood covered his hands.

Wanda didn’t say another word as she ran towards the elevator and impatiently hit the button to the medical wing. She didn’t bother to wait for anyone else. Nothing mattered right now except you.

Wanda had feelings for you. Ever since she met you, you were this light in the darkness that was her life. You could cheer her up when no one else could. You knew her better than she knew herself. You were not only her best friend, but you were the woman she was irrevocably in love with. She was terrified to tell you how she felt. She thought she would lose you if she had confessed how she truly felt for you. So, she remained quiet and tried to forget about her feelings for you by hanging out with Vision more. She wasn’t using Vision by any means, she genuinely did enjoy his company. But he wasn’t you.

Wanda didn’t even wait for the elevator doors to fully open as she squeezed herself through the small gap and made her way towards the medical bay doors. Before Wanda could open the door, Steve abruptly grabbed her hand, stopping her from going any further. He must’ve taken the stairs. Damn his super soldier abilities.

“Wanda. Stop. I know you’re worried about Y/N, we all are. But barging in there won’t be any help. You need to let Cho and her nurses focus on helping her.” Steve desperately tried to talk some sense into Wanda; it worked. Wanda’s shoulders slumped as she made her way towards the seating area that was right outside the doors. All she could do was sit, wait, and pray to whatever god there was that you would be okay.

Wanda didn’t even know you were going on a mission today. If she did, she would’ve went to the hangar and hugged you before she left, like she always did. Oh fuck, she didn’t even get to see you off and now look at your state. Now that she thought about it, she had been neglecting you for some time now. She let her fear of her feelings consume her. She spent more time with Vision than with you, and now she wasn’t sure if she would get the opportunity to be with you again. The thought of not being able to tell you how in love with you she was mortified her. This was the wake up call she needed.

——————————————————————————

2 hours later

After two agonizingly slow hours, Doctor Cho made her way towards the anxious group of heroes. Wanda shot up from her seat and approached Helen.

“How is she? Please, tell me she’s okay.” Wanda asks as she nervously chews on her bottom lip. “Y/N is fine. Luckily, the knife didn’t hit any major arteries. She won’t be able to make any sudden movements for the next few weeks which means no missions until I give her clearance.” At Cho’s words, the entire team was struck with relief. Wanda’s eyes lit up at the good news. You were okay. You were still here.

“Can we see her?” Steve asked from behind Wanda as he made his way to stand beside her. “Yes, shes awkward, but only one person can go in at a time. She’s very sensitive right now from the anesthesia.” Helen gave the team a smile before walking off.

Everyone looked at Wanda as she gave them a nod. Of course she had to go in first. You and Wanda may have been oblivious to each other’s feelings, but the team wasn’t. It was almost annoying how unaware you two were of how the other person felt.

Wanda quietly made her way into your room and almost let out a sigh of relief as she saw you laying on the table awake. You were trying to reach for a glass of water beside your bed, but the pain in your side made the small task a burden. Wanda quickly made her way to the table and handed you the glass of water. You were startled since you didn’t even hear her enter the room. You took the water from her hands and took a long sip before handing it back to her.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked coldly as you glared at the Sokovian woman. She was shocked at your animosity. You were never like this with her before. “I needed to make sure you were okay. I was worried sick.” Wanda frowned as she pulled a chair up to your bedside and sat in it.

“Oh. Now you suddenly remember I exist? It only took me nearly dying for you to notice me again.” You knew you weren’t being fair. You guys were just best friends and she was entitled to hang out and be with whoever she wanted. But the part of you that loved her and longed for more took over.

“Y/N. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as often. I got caught up hanging out with Vision when I should’ve been there for you.” Wanda’s eyes softened as she stared at your face. She missed you so much. She may have seen you around the compound, but she hasn’t been this close to you in what felt like decades.

“Yeah. You got caught up with Vision. Why don’t you just go back to him now. I’m fine.” You stubbornly spoke as you tore your eyes away from Wanda and stared out the window in front of your bed.

Wanda made a ballsy move and grabbed your hand in here. Thankfully, you didn’t move it away. “Y/N. I don’t care about Vision, I care about you. I love you and I mean that in more than a friendly way.” At Wanda’s words, your head snapped back to her as you looked over her features for any indication of a lie; you didn’t find any.

“I was spending time with Vision to try and forget my feelings for you. That obviously backfired and only solidified what I already knew I felt. I’m sorry it took such a terrible situation for me to finally grow the balls to tell you this. I love you Y/N.” Wanda squeezed your hand tightly as she stared at you full of love and adoration.

You were speechless. As cliche as it sounds, this was what you’ve wanted since the moment you laid eyes on her. She said the three words you’ve been longing to hear spill from her mouth. She loved you too.

“I love you too, Wanda. I’m sorry. I thought you had a thing for Vision and I let jealousy and insecurity get the better of me.” You looked down in shame as you tried to pull your hand out of Wanda’s hold, but she only gripped it tighter.

“Don’t be sorry. I completely understand. I’m so glad your okay and I’m so unbelievably happy that you feel the same way.” Wanda smiled brightly at you as you smiled right back. You guys must’ve looked like maniacs with your big, cheesy smiles, but you didn’t care.

Wanda began to slowly lean towards you. You attempted to meet her in the middle, but only ended up wincing in pain as you were reminded of your impressive stab wound. Wanda let out a laugh.

“Let me handle it, moya lyubov (my love).” Wanda said before closing the gap between you both and giving you a heated, desperate kiss. All the pent up emotions that you both had been withholding from each other were coming to light through this kiss. You guys were interrupted by the door swinging open abruptly and the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You both jumped apart as you cringed at the sting of your injuries. You turned to the door and caught sight of the team standing at the door with shit eating grins on their face.

“Sorry to interrupt you, lovebirds. But we wanted to check on Y/N too. Cho gave us the clear to come in now.” Natasha smirked at yours and Wanda’s flustered states.

“Pay up, Barnes.” Sam said as he held his hand out to Bucky, who groaned before placing 50 dollars in his hand. You and Wanda stared at the two confused, Bucky took notice of this and decided to fill you both in.

“We made a bet on when you two would get together. I said in the next two months, he said in the next two weeks. He won.” Bucky gave you both a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

Everyone in the room laughed, making you and Wanda turn even more red than before. You didn’t care about the inevitable, endless teasing you would have to endure after today. You would deal with the comments forever as long as it meant Wanda was by your side. You once thought that she didn’t feel the same, and you were so glad you were proven wrong. Sometimes, love can be requited after all.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #avengers #scarlet witch #request

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ultimatetrashyfanfic · 3 years ago

Text

I’ve been really into Komahina lately. This started off all lighthearted but then became a bucketload of Komahina hurt/comfort. Just because I think Nagito needs more people to care about him. This is post-hope arc when they are just trying to be normal again. - Circle

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33992074

Warning: descriptions of injuries (nothing serious but requires stitches), blood, some spoilers for SDR2 game and the anime.

Nagito wasn’t surprised when his bad luck struck that day. He’d been having too much of a good time. He’d come to expect this, to feel a wary tension whenever something nice happened because he knew the bad was now right around the corner.

At least this time the luck had affected himself rather than the other Ultimates. The morning had been so happy and relaxed, the perfect conditions for Nagito to let his guard down. He was so grateful to be invited on the beach trip with Hajime, Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi. They’d acted like it was no big deal, like they had no idea of the gravity their invitation held.

“You want to hang out with a nobody like me? The Ultimates are so generous, I don’t deserve such-” Nagito started, but then Hajime put a hand over his mouth, Kazuichi stuck his fingers in his ears and Fuyuhiko told him to shut the fuck up - but all three did this fondly.

It was easy to grow accustomed to the beach when living on a tropical island, but it seemed especially beautiful that day. Blue sea and white sand shimmered with a special sort of exotic glamour - though perhaps that was down to the three other men laughing along and acting like he was equal to them. It was absurd, really, that these Ultimates should give him any attention. He was about to voice this very thought, but then Hajime took Nagito’s hand without hesitation - without a hint of shame - and the words died away. A strange warm feeling bloomed in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar.

Hajime must’ve sensed he was getting overwhelmed, because he led Nagito back up the beach while Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko went swimming. Or at least Fuyuhiko went swimming; Kazuichi paddled and ran for the shore whenever a strand of seaweed brushed against his leg. Hajime spread their towels out in the shade of a palm tree, lying flat and gesturing for Nagito to do the same. “Come on, get in the shade. I know how easily your skin burns.”

“Don’t you want to swim too, Hajime?” Nagito asked, flopping down. He let his head fall back onto Hajime’s stomach, making his grunt softly.

“No, it’s okay. I could tell you needed some peace and quiet.”

Nagito frowned. Hajime was doing that much more often, seeing through his smiles and cheerful comments to the truth inside. Nagito knew he should be happy, grateful even. Hajime wanted to know him better. Hajime wanted to understand him. So why did it make Nagito feel so raw and vulnerable, like Hajime was scrubbing away a layer of his skin?

“You shouldn’t have to miss time with your friends for someone like me,” Nagito said. “You were nice enough to bring me along. That’s more than enough.”

“What, do you think I’m going to chain you to a tree like a dog while we have fun? I’m not missing out on time with anybody. I’m spending time with you, Nagito. Because I want to. I like to. Right?” Hajime said, his voice exasperated. But then Nagito felt a hand in his hair, clumsy yet gentle, and he knew Hajime wasn’t really upset with him.

Nagito felt the weird feeling come back, itching insistently. He forced himself to give a lighthearted laugh. “You’re so inspiring, Hajime. You have hope for everyone, even miserable wretches like me.”

“Nagito.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Nagito did as he was told. Hajime started idly fiddling with Nagito’s hair, taking hold of one wild curl and pulling it straight, then letting it bounce back. Nagito wasn’t sure if he liked it or not, nervous giggles tickling the back of his throat. This wasn’t them. They weren’t tender and gentle and soft. They weren’t sweet words and walks on the beach and fingers running through hair. Their relationship was messy. They were angry outbursts and nightmares and holding onto each other too tightly, too long.

Nagito remained tense for a long time, but Hajime didn’t speak again. His hand continued moving through Nagito’s mop of hair until - finally - he felt the man sigh and release the tension in his shoulders. With the warm sun on his face and his head bobbing slowly up and down to the rhythm of Hajime’s breaths, Nagito felt his eyelids droop. And the nightmares didn’t come this time.

Hajime must’ve slept too, because they were both woken by a splash of icy water over their faces. Hajime yelped and sat upright so hastily Nagito tumbled off him onto the sand, spluttering in shock, wet hair plastered to his face.

Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi loomed over them with empty buckets, grinning impishly. Hajime lifted his sopping fringe with one hand to glare at them, and they both burst out laughing.

“You two were sleeping the day away! We didn’t want you getting dehydrated.”

“It was Kazuichi’s idea,” Fuyuhiko said.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Hajime growled.

“It wasn’t! Fuyuhiko started it,” Kazuichi said, but he was giggling like an idiot and it was clear he was lying.

Hajime stumbled to his feet, hauled Nagito up and snatched Kazuichi’s bucket from his hands. “Right, come on, Nagito. Payback.”

Hajime started running to the shoreline, dragging Nagito along. Fuyuhiko made for the sea too, and Kazuichi, who was now without a bucket, ran to the right of the beach, clambering over the slick rocks by the cliffs to hide.

“I’ll go after him,” Nagito told Hajime. “I know there’s only two buckets but I could… throw seaweed at him, I suppose. He seemed afraid of it in the water.”

Hajime snorted. “Yes, do that! That’s hilarious. I’ll get Fuyuhiko.”

“No you fucking won’t!” Fuyuhiko yelled.

So Nagito ran down to the side of the beach too. The damp black rocks appeared every low tide as the sea retreated, leaving behind a selection of tiny pools filled with small fish and anemones and little crabs. The rocks were covered with seaweed and very slippery, and Nagito was barefoot. He should’ve known better - he was used to watching out for potential hazards - but Nagito knew Gundham and Sonia had been down there on several occasions to study the wildlife in the rock pools, and neither of them had been sensibly dressed. Sonia was even in heels, for God’s sake. Surely the rocks couldn’t be that treacherous.

He wasn’t thinking properly. It was just nice to finally be able to act silly and do stupid stuff with people who seemed to want him around, even if they were just being kind. Nagito had never been in a water fight in his life. He was kidding himself he was normal.

So he clambered over the slime-covered rocks with reckless abandon, barely pausing to breathe. He had his eyes on Kazuichi in the distance, and he didn’t notice the small rock pool until he was slipping into it, his right foot sliding over sharp rock and rough barnacles. The pain and the shock of the icy water screamed all the way up his leg and his knees gave way, sending him falling onto his behind in the pool with a splash. He sat still for several seconds, the sole of his foot screaming.

Kazuichi had originally started laughing when he saw Nagito fall, but his expression clouded when Nagito didn’t join in. Usually Nagito smiled after his clumsy moments and said something about his bad luck being a stepping stone for hope later or some similar bullshit. But this time Nagito didn’t smile. He didn’t attempt to get up. He just sat there, face blank.

“Hey,” Kazuichi called, slowly creeping over. He still wasn’t quite sure if this was a trick. He didn’t want to get a face full of seawater. “You alright?”

Nagito didn’t react. He didn’t even blink. Kazuichi moved closer, coming right up to the rock pool and bracing himself. Nagito didn’t try to splash him. He just sat, blank-faced, twirling one finger idly in the water and making pinkish swirls with the… sand? Silt? Kazuichi couldn’t tell what it was floating in the rock pool, but it didn’t look sanitary.

“You should probably get up. That looks pretty dirty,” Kazuichi advised. “And you’re getting your pants wet. What’re you doing anyway? You’re not gonna go weird on me, are you?”

“I… think I may require Mikan, when it’s most suitable for her. I wouldn’t want to bother an Ultimate with my petty issues,” Nagito said calmly.

“What? Why?” Kazuichi said, alarmed. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

As if in answer, Nagito lifted his right leg out of the water. Kazuichi’s eyes went wide when he spotted the huge gash on the sole of Nagito’s foot, gushing blood at a terrifying pace. He looked again at the murky pinkish water and suddenly understood.

“Oh my fucking God! Fuck, shit, what do we do?” Kazuichi cried in a panic. “Don’t just sit there playing around in your blood, you weirdo! Shit, HAJIME!” Kazuichi yelled back down the beach, waving his arms at the two men in the distance like he’d been shipwrecked.

They approached warily, not taking the situation seriously. “This better not be a trick, Kazuichi!”

“I’m not playing the game anymore! Komaeda is bleeding to death over here!”

“What?” Hajime cried, picking up the pace.

“Bleeding to death is rather an exaggeration,” Nagito said. “You’d need to lose thirty to forty percent of the blood in your body to even fall unconscious.”

“I’m not going to ask how the hell you know that,” Kazuichi mumbled.

Hajime and Fuyuhiko climbed over the rocks, staring in horror at the big cut on Nagito’s foot and the rock pool growing cloudy with blood.

“What did you do?!” Fuyuhiko cried. Nagito opened his mouth, but Fuyuhiko was looking at Kazuichi.

“I didn’t do anything!” Kazuichi cried, looking wounded. “I think he slipped or something. I found him just sitting there.”

“It was nobody’s fault but my own,” Nagito said, his voice the calmest among them despite the fact that he was the one gushing blood. “I was tempting my bad luck. I should be thankful I’m not worse off.”

“What’s he on about?” Kazuichi asked Hajime.

“His luck cycle thing.”

“So something bad is gonna happen every time we’re nice to him?” Kazuichi said. “That sucks. Should we like… shove him over first before we invite him somewhere? Will that cancel it out?”

“Kazuichi, stop fucking talking,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

“I didn’t mean a hard shove or anything…”

“Shut up.”

“We need to get him to Mikan,” Hajime said firmly, hooking his hands under Nagito’s arms and carefully hauling him out of the rock pool. “Ugh, you’re all soggy.”

“Yes, that tends to happen when you fall into water, Hajime,” Nagito said, smiling. Not quite a nice and happy smile though.

“You should probably carry him,” Fuyuhiko said. “Otherwise he’ll get sand in the cut. And he can’t hop all the way back. You should keep his leg elevated above his head to reduce the blood flow.”

“How am I meant to do that?” Hajime snapped. “Dangle him upside down from his ankles?”

“I was only trying to help, asshole.”

“You’d all be terrible first responders. We’ve made no progress whatsoever,” Nagito said. Hajime and Fuyuhiko told him to shut up in unison.

Kazuichi was grimacing at the growing pool of blood under Nagito’s foot. “He has a point. He’s bleeding a lot, guys. We should probably do something.”

“He’s on a ton of medication. Lots of them have blood clotting as a side effect, so he has to take blood thinners. That’s why it’s… bad,” Hajime explained. He sighed, scooping Nagito up into his arms, cradling him like a bride.

It was still far too easy to hold him like this; Nagito’s eating habits were pretty disordered. On bad days he wouldn’t eat at all. Hajime had thought it was sheer obstinacy, but when he’d forced Nagito to have lunch it had come back up again so quickly Nagito hadn’t even reached the bathroom in time. They were in Hajime’s cabin too, which made it worse. That was one of the few times Nagito grew visibly angry with him. He was usually so careful to keep a smooth, happy mask, smiling and chuckling when he was nervous or upset or scared. Hajime never pressured him to eat when he said he couldn’t again.

“Is this okay?” Hajime asked, trying to shift his arms to lift Nagito’s injured foot as high as possible.

“Are you going to carry me over the threshold, Hajime?” Nagito said, smiling.

Hajime could feel his cheeks growing warm. Wow, that was not good. He didn’t want to react physically whenever Nagito teased him, or he’d just tease much more. “I’ll drop you in the ocean if you’re not careful.”

“Who says chivalry is dead,” Fuyuhiko muttered dryly. “Now hurry up, we need to get help. Take Nagito back to your cabin, Hajime. Me and Kazuichi will go hunt down Mikan.”

Kazuichi usually moaned if anyone tried to make him dash around in the hot island sun, but he just nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her. Try not to bleed to death, okay Nagito?”

“I’ll do my best.”

They ran off together, and Hajime carried Nagito across the sand towards the cabins. Nagito had his arms wound around Hajime’s neck, his face peering over his shoulder. “We’re leaving a trail of blood. Like that old fairy story.”

“What?”

“Some children leave a trail so they don’t get lost in the woods. I remember that part, but I can’t think of the title. It was so long ago…”

“Oh, you mean Hansel and Gretel. And they left a trail of breadcrumbs, you weirdo, not blood.”

“And there was a woman in that story who was a cannibal…”

“She was a witch. She was keeping the kids to cook and eat them.” Hajime was starting to think properly about some of the fairy tails they’d all grown up with. They were actually pretty dark when you thought about it. Trust Nagito to bring that to his attention.

“Never mind that. How’re you feeling? You’re bleeding an awful lot. And it must hurt.”

“You don’t need to worry about a nobody li-”

“Nagito, if you don’t give me a real answer I really am going to drop you.”

“No you’re not.” Nagito spoke with such calm confidence that Hajime had to clench his teeth to hold back a snarky retort. Okay, maybe Nagito was correct. Hajime wouldn’t just dump his injured boyfriend on his ass in the sand. But that didn’t make his tone any less annoying.

“Ah, you’re pulling a scary face, Hajime! Are you growing tired of me yet?” Nagito asked, starting to laugh.

Hajime sighed. He’d been hearing that line a lot from Nagito, as long as they’d been dating and well back into their friendship too. Are you tired of me yet? Whenever it was Nagito’s turn to wake gasping from a nightmare, whenever he grew so ill and weak he could barely move and Hajime had to walk him to the bathroom, whenever the phantom pains from a hand no longer there kept them both up at night, he’d start. Ah, I’m such a burden. Why are you here, Hajime? Why do you care about a nobody like me? Aren’t you tired of this? Aren’t you tired of me?

He always kept his voice light and easy, but Hajime sensed there was must be some sort of truth behind the questions. Nobody repeated something over and over like a parrot unless the same thoughts were swirling non-stop in their own heads. Hajime knew Nagito had been alone most of his childhood, forced to take care of his own problems. Now he seemed to baulk at the idea of help or support of any kind, like Hajime was going to play a cruel joke on him and shove him away at the last second.

“I’m growing tired of you saying that,” Hajime said. “Come on, let’s just get inside. And no more woe-is-me speeches, right? I keep telling you, I want to help.”

“You’re so kind, Hajime.”

“I’m not kind. I’m not doing it because I’m kind,” Hajime said irritably. “I’m doing it because I want to. Because I care about you. Okay?”

Nagito didn’t respond, just smiling calmly. Hajime wished he could peer right behind those eyes and see what really went on in Nagito’s head. He sighed and sat on his bed to wait for Mikan. As he was still holding Nagito, he ended up perched on Hajime’s lap, but he didn’t attempt to move. Hajime felt the tight frustration in his chest ease and he carefully wound his arms around Nagito’s skinny waist. Too skinny. Fuck, they needed to find something Nagito could eat even when he felt ill.

“I’m dripping blood on your carpet,” Nagito whispered, his head still resting on Hajime’s shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter right now.” He peered over the side of the bed. “You’re still bleeding a lot. Are you feeling okay? You’ve gone pretty pale.”

“Just a little light-headed, Hajime. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I’m worrying about you. Stop testing me, Nagito. I care. I’m not leaving, I’m not annoyed, I’m not sick of you. Please stop it,” Hajime begged.

Nagito went silent again. There was a strange expression on his face, brows furrowed, almost irritated - but before Hajime could question him there was a knock at his cabin door and Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi burst in. They were dragging Mikan between them, one on either side of her like bodyguards.

“We found her!” Kazuichi cried. “Is Komaeda okay? Because we don’t have spare blood if he needs a transfusion or something.”

“Who the fuck has spare blood?” Fuyuhiko snapped. “He’ll be fine. I’ve seen guys bleed way more than that and still live.”

“Well, the peace and quiet in here was nice while it lasted,” Hajime muttered. He smiled at Mikan apologetically. “Sorry for dragging you over here at such short notice, but I think he needs stitches.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble. I would never tear an Ultimate away from their work with my petty desires and-” Nagito’s string of self-deprecation was swiftly cut off as Hajime’s clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t listen to him. Please, can you help him?”

“Of course,” Mikan said. Her smile was nervous, but Hajime didn’t think it was anything they’d done - Mikan always seemed nervous. She’d had the forethought to bring a case of supplies when Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi dragged her across the island, so she knelt on the blood-spattered carpet and took hold of Nagito’s ankle.

“Y-yes, it’s quite a deep gash, but it’s not very serious. You’ll need stitches and you won’t be able to get them wet or put weight on your right foot for at least a week,” she explained, snapping on rubber gloves.

“Looks like Hajime will be doing a lot more carrying then,” Fuyuhiko said.

“Does Peko carry you when you get hurt?” Kazuichi teased, then yelped as Fuyuhiko thumped him hard.

“I’m going to clean the wound. I want you to take a deep breath, Nagito. This will be painful,” Mikan said. Her usually shaky voice seemed much firmer and more assured when she was talking about her medicine. Her clumsy hands grew confident and graceful as she worked, carefully cleaning, stitching and bandaging the wound while gently reminding Nagito when to breathe and warning him when something was going to be painful. She put so much effort into making him as comfortable as possible - an Ultimate trying to help a nobody like him! Nagito wanted to show Mikan how thankful he was, how wonderfully selfless it was to treat him like a worthy patient, like an equal - but his throat ached so badly he could only choke out a “thank you” in an almost inaudible voice.

And it wasn’t just Mikan; Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko stayed too. They peered over Mikan’s shoulder while she worked, having to be reminded several times to back off. Kazuichi pulled faces whenever the wound was revealed and Fuyuhiko teased Nagito for managing to slice his foot so badly in a fall most people could’ve laughed off uninjured, but it was clear they cared too. They did their best to offer help.

“I’ll bring dinner for both of you tonight,” Fuyuhiko said. “Probably best if Nagito rests in the quiet. He might be feeling shitty from the shock.”

“I’ll make you some crutches, Nagito,” Kazuichi promised. “Crutches that work on the sand too so you can still go to the beach with us.”

They were being so nice… and all Nagito wanted to do was shove them out the door. The tightness in his chest was growing worse and worse, like somebody was slowly tightening a belt over his ribs. He was dangerously close to shattering, and that was something he couldn’t do now. He needed them out. They cared too much. He hardly dared blink or speak in case it all came bursting out.

Nagito moved closer to Hajime as Mikan fixed the bandages on his foot, his lips so close they brushed Hajime’s ear. “Make them leave. Please.”

He couldn’t say any more. He wanted to explain, wanted to make Hajime realise how urgent this was, how close he was to being vulnerable around three people he was not ready to open up to in this way. Hell, it was still hard even to show Hajime, the man he literally shared a bed with.

Nagito’s eyes were burning. He felt a surge of panic. Oh God, Hajime, please get them out of here…

Perhaps Hajime heard the strain in Nagito’s whisper, perhaps he felt how tense his body had grown against him, but - miraculously - he seemed to understand. He carefully eased Nagito onto the bed, thanked their friends for their help and reassured everyone Nagito would be okay now, he just needed some rest and some peace. Nagito stopped listened. He was barely blinking. He managed to smile and nod until Hajime had ushered Mikan, Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko to the door, then Nagito rolled over and hastily buried his face in a pillow.

Hajime finally convinced his friends they’d both be fine and closed the door with a sigh of relief. He turned back to the bed, not too surprised to see Nagito lying on his stomach with his face hidden.

Nagito was all mixed up when it came to emotions; bad situations had him laughing and smiling, positive reinforcement had driven him to tears several times now. With Hajime. Nagito refused to cry in public. Sometimes it could be really inconvenient too. Since they’d all woken up and decided to try to undo all the terrible things in their past, everyone was trying to be nicer. And trying to be nicer to Nagito if he was feeling particularly weak or tired or ill that day was fatal. He’d start tugging on Hajime’s hand, gently at first, but the tugging would grow more frantic as he struggled to retain control. Sometimes Hajime had to interrupt people mid-conversation with some silly excuse to save Nagito’s pride. Once he’d run out of ideas and made out to Akane that he had a sudden and urgent need to use the toilet. That had actually made Nagito laugh when he’d calmed down.

It wasn’t ideal, but Hajime couldn’t help being thankful that Nagito trusted him more than anyone else. Trusted Hajime to whisk him away when he needed help, and trusted Hajime to hold him while he wept silently, face hidden in his jacket or covered with his hands - even Hajime didn’t get to see his face when Nagito was in that state.

So Hajime didn’t comment when he saw Nagito soundlessly weeping into his pillow (hopefully Nagito’s pillow anyway. Hajime didn’t want tears and snot on his own pillow). He didn’t ask what was wrong. He simply walked to the foot of the bed and took hold of Nagito’s ankle, examining Mikan’s handiwork. The white bandages were almost the same colour as Nagito’s skin, and his exposed toes were icy cold.

“You should put some socks on,” Hajime noted.

Nagito, predictably, didn’t move, so Hajime grabbed a pair from the dresser. “Are you going to cooperate?”

Nothing. Hajime sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing hold of Nagito’s leg. “Honestly, I bet even Sonia never had anybody to put her socks on for her and she’s royalty. Come on, bend your leg. Help me out a bit.” Despite his grumbling, Hajime eased the socks on with scrupulous care, being especially delicate with the injured foot. “There, your majesty. Surely that must feel better.”

Nagito still didn’t make a sound. Hajime moved to stretch out beside him on the bed, a hand resting between his shoulders. “Hey,” Hajime mumbled. “It’s alright. I know it’s hard, but they care about you. It’s not a bad thing.”

“They shouldn’t care. I did terrible things,” Nagito said, his voice so muffled by the pillow it was hard to understand him.

“So did I. So did everybody here. We’re all trying to make up for that.”

“I don’t deserve love.”

“That’s what you tell yourself. It’s not the truth.” Hajime very gently eased Nagito off the pillow into his arms. Nagito immediately hid his face in Hajime’s chest, but he didn’t pull away. He clamped a hand hard over his mouth to keep the sobs inside.

“Don’t,” Hajime said firmly, taking hold of Nagito’s hand and trying to pry the fingers away from his lips. “Stop holding it all in. I think that’s partly why you keep getting overwhelmed so often. You never let go.”

Nagito didn’t give up, wrenching his hand free and slapping it right back across his lips - but not before a single gasping sob had escaped. It was the first time Hajime had ever heard him make a noise while he cried. Nagito screwed up his face immediately, wincing.

“No, that’s good! Fucking fantastic! Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I’m cheering you on for crying, but here we are,” Hajime muttered. He took hold of Nagito’s hand once again and tried to prise it away. “Come on, we’re on the right track. It’s just us here. Our door is locked, nobody expects us at dinner. You’re safe, okay? You’re not a burden. I don’t think any less of you. Please…”

Hajime yanked Nagito’s hand away, keeping hold of the wrist this time. Immediately a loud sob burst out, another chasing on its heels so quickly Nagito barely had time to draw breath. And the floodgates opened. He gasped and wheezed and sobbed, soaking Hajime’s chest with tears and spit and snot, clinging so tightly to Hajime’s arms that his nails left little crescent moon shapes in the skin. And Hajime never complained. He held Nagito tight, whispering encouragement into his hair, warm hands rubbing between Nagito’s shoulder blades - holding him together, anchoring him against the darkness that swirled inside Nagito’s head.

Nagito wasn’t sure how long he spent sobbing desperately into his boyfriend’s chest; it felt like hours. He cried until his head throbbed and his throat ached. He cried for his friends, struggling themselves to shake their pasts as Remnants of Despair. He cried for all the people they hurt and tortured under Junko’s brainwashing. He cried for the parents he could only remember from photographs. He cried for the childhood dog who’d died in his arms. He cried for himself, for his lifetime of loneliness, his bad luck driving people away out of fear. And he cried for Chiaki.

All the while, Hajime held him. Hajime let Nagito drip all over him for an eternity, and when the sobs finally, finally started to fade away, Hajime brought him a bottle of water and held a cold cloth to his puffy eyes, wrapping an arm around him and pulling Nagito against his shoulder. “I learned this from Mahiru. She does this for Hiyoko when she’s been crying. It’s meant to stop your eyes getting all red and sore.”

Nagito nodded, far too emotionally exhausted to speak. He sat helplessly while Hajime fussed over him with tender but clumsy hands, dabbing his face with tissues and smoothing his messy hair off his forehead. Nagito stared blankly ahead - and then felt two warm hands grip his cheeks. He was forced to stare into Hajime’s heterochromic eyes.

“Hey…” Hajime’s soft tone was a complete contrast to his firm stare. “I’m so proud of you, Nagito.”

It almost brought the tears back. Proud of him? For what? For having a tantrum like a baby?

Hajime recognised his expression. “I’m proud of you for feeling. I’m not good at this mushy stuff and I know you’re not either… but it’s just so good to finally see you letting yourself hurt openly like that. I’m really fucking proud of you.”

Nagito’s chest hurt again. He pulled Hajime’s hands away from his cheeks and held them, squeezing as hard as he could manage. It took several tries before he managed to speak, tasting salty tears on his dry lips. “Next time you feel bad,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse, “I’ll put your socks on for you too.”

Hajime laughed - and Nagito finally found himself smiling again, though his face was still blotchy and tearstained. They’d be okay. They had each other to put their socks on when they were having bad days.

#danganronpa #danganronpa sdr2 #danganronpa 2 #post-SDR2 #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #kazuichi soda #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #hurt/comfort #injury #mod circle #post-hope arc #spoilers warning

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

request: some christmassy idea where marcus moreno brings presents he bought for missy to the shop to get wrapped up bc he cant wrap for shit. And he wants to flirt with reader whos the one whos gonna wrap the presents but for the love of the above he cant. hes stuttering and hes flustered and its cute. And reader is like okay mister "i can use the force", heres my number, call me so we can shedule a date. And hes so shocked about it 😄😭😭😭 thank u patricia! 🌟

I see it's time to write for Mr. Moreno? Excellent 😌 Enjoy!

Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader; no warnings

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he reluctantly returned to the store, the bag of presents in his hand a sign of defeat. How hard it could possibly have been to wrap a few presents? Apparently too hard for someone like Marcus Moreno. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried, oh no, he’d spent several hours the previous evening after Missy had gone to bed attempting to wrap the clothes and other oddly shaped boxes perfectly. But instead of success, all he gained was frustration.

Instead of another vain attempt at the wrapping, he gave up and threw everything back into the bag and made his mind that he would go back to the small department store and ask...beg if you required it, for you to wrap the gifts.

He might have been able to save the world on several occasions, but apparently his talents ended at Christmas gift wrapping. Well, he huffed to himself as he pulled open the door, the soft twinkling of bells meeting his ears, everyone had a limit. His just happened to be a little more pathetic than others.

Super Hero, he reminded himself with each step, he was a fudgin’ super hero for fuck’s sake. But alas, when it came to more domestic things, such as cooking, and wrapping apparently, he was far from super. He was working on it though - spending time each day to make sure he was learning - doing enough - to be the father Missy needed. For her, and himself. Things weren’t always easy, but they were always getting better.

Although tired from a long day at the office, throwing swords around, as Missy had dubbed it, his face instantly lit up when he spied you behind the counter, an almost bored expression on your face. The last of the Christmas rush was almost over, which meant business had slowed down, which was both a blessing and a curse at the same time. Marcus would have been a liar if he said he didn’t have an ulterior motive for coming back; sure - he wanted the presents wrapped, but let’s be honest, the man was smitten with you. Any excuse to come back and chat with you, even if it was just five minutes was good enough for him.

He’d known you, casually, for a few years now. You had been Missy’s teacher at school last year, and he knew that you worked the summers and holidays at your parent’s store to give them a hand with the rushes. Sometimes, being the sneaky Heroic he was, he’d made up excuses in the past to come into your classroom to spend a few minutes here and there talking to you. It was hard to believe that anyone could make him nervous, to make his heart flutter and beat like a nervous schoolboy, but there you were. Managing to do it every time.

But he’d never act on it. No, no, no. That would be downright outrageous. After all, why on earth would you be interested in Marcus Moreno? He couldn’t even wrap a present.

Almost as if you sensed his presence, you looked up from the counter you were organized and offered him a dazzling smile, accompanied by a small wave. He was positive his heart stopped at the sight as he had to remind himself to breath. After a quick inhale and exhale, he marched over to you, ready to be firm, and hell, maybe today he’d finally ask if you wanted to get dinner sometime. Why not, after all? But then he took a good look at your eyes, those soft eyes and that gentle smile and he came undone.

“Hi Marcus,” you beamed at him as he did his best to give you a normal smile in response, “what a pleasure to see a friendly face. How are you?”

“Hi,” he managed to choke out as he calmed himself. How did you have this effect on him? He was a grown man, a man with plenty of experience in dating and love, and yet this one he couldn’t seem to nail down, “I’m fine - you know what, why lie? I’m tired and I can’t wrap presents for shit. I hate to ask, but could you help me out? I’ve seen you do it for other people and I’m afraid if I try again, it’ll be worse than the first time. It’s been awful - oh my God, I’m so rude. I’m rambling - you look pretty - nice - how are you?”

“Marcus,” you giggled at him, watching as a nervous tinge of pink flushed his cheeks. You put your hand on his, effectively getting him to calm down and shut up, “slow down. It’s okay - I’ve got you covered. I assume work is busy?”

“That’s one way to put it,” he was instantly relieved as you took the presents from and grabbed some wrapping paper to display to him. He nodded at your choice and watching in awe as you made quick work of grabbing the first present and getting to work, “I was about ready to just leave him in the bag and give them to Missy like that.”

“Ahh, it’s not a big deal,” you shot him a quick wink, “it’s easy once you get the hang of it. But then again, I’ve been helping my parents with this stuff for years. Maybe sometime I’ll show you how.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he exhaled as he leaned against the counter and tried to pay it cool. His heart was thumping in his chest so rapidly, he was sure you were able to hear it as well. If you noticed anything out of place, you didn’t show it, “I’ll pay you - whatever you want.”

“Marcus,” you waved him off, “there’s no need. Besides, what are friends for?”

“Friends,” he almost choked on the word as he grinned at the delicate look of concentration on your face. Your brow was furrowed, your tongue peeking out from between your lips as you made sure to get all the measurements just right, “how’s everything been? It’s been a while…”

“I know,” you agreed as you started some ribbon to start curling it, “I miss you coming into my classroom all the time, I miss Missy - it’s not quite the same without the Morenos.”

How much could hint at it before he finally got the bait? You’d harbored a crush on the man for years now, even before you became Missy's teacher. He was a Heroic after all - handsome, funny, smart, and kind. Who wouldn't fall in love with him? You'd hinted at your feelings a number of times and you thought he reciprocated a few times, but you could never be quite sure. And neither of you ever seemed to make a move. You'd come close a few times, but somehow just hadn't...quite gotten there.

“I miss it too,” he agreed quietly, turning his attention to his hands, “Missy doesn’t like her teacher as much this year.”

“That’s because I’m pretty cool,” you teased gently, “you look nice too, by the way. The all black thing - pretty sexy.”

Marcus was sure his heart stopped at your words; you couldn’t seriously have said what he thought you said. Right? Right. He looked at you with wide eyes as you refused to look up from what you were doing in case you had completely overstepped any remaining boundaries.

“I, umm…” he paused for a moment, chuckling at his own nerves as he moved to stand in front of you, “I’m shit at this. But I, umm...I like you.”

“Marcus,” you stopped what you were doing and set the scissors down to meet his soft brown eyes. He had a small smile on his face, nervous as he watched your expression to try and get a read on the situation. Honestly? He’d rather have taken down another horde of aliens than wait for your response, “it’s about time you said something. I was beginning to think you never would.”

“Oh,” he let a nervous chuckle as your words set in, “oh. Oh?”

“I like you too, Marcus,” you admitted as a warmth flushed over you, “I just...I didn’t know how to say it. I was…”

“Nervous,” you both blurted out at the same time as you both laughed. At least you were on the same page.

“I haven’t done this in a long time,” he confessed as you nodded in understanding, “I feel like an old fool more than anything...but I’d like to take you out. On a date. A real date. Like you know not just...this, and I’m sorry if this is awkward. Missy’s been telling me to ask you forever and I just feel like -”

“Marcus,” you grinned at him as you reached up and held up a finger to his lips, “you’re rambling again, silly. I’d love to. I’d love to go out with you.”

“Seriously?” his eyebrows raised in surprise as you just nodded. Needless to say, he was not expecting this - any of it.

“Seriously,” you confirmed, “come on, Mr. Force Hands, give me your phone and I’ll give you my number.”

“Okay,” he looked at you with nothing but soft hope in his eyes as he fished out his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You let your hand brush over his as you took it and quickly saved your number for him, “I...yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” you agreed, “but don’t actually forget to text me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he breathed out easily, “besides, I owe Missy twenty bucks now and she’ll never forget it. We made a bet - she said I’ve never get the nerve to ask.”

“What a pleasant surprise,” you grinned at him, “now come on. Come around the counter and I’ll show you how to wrap properly.”

Marcus shuffled around the counter and you pointed to the spot you had previously occupied. Moving behind him, you paused for a moment before reaching around him to put your hands over his and help guide him. He swallowed thickly at your tender touch, trying to keep himself composed.

“Now,” you said softly, “do it like this.”

It was definitely not what Marcus had expected to come out of this evening - but he was so glad it did. Finally.

Maybe not being able to wrap presents wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #wcbh #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #ahhhhh here we are

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rqnvindr · 4 years ago

Text

special delivery

pairing: delivery boy!albedo x gn!reader

genre: fluff, humor, pinch of suggestiveness

w.c: 1.5k

synopsis: it was getting harder and harder to resist the beautiful boy who always delivered your pizzas. especially when he notices the way you look at him, ever the observant one...

a/n: happy birthday chae !! @albehoe i’m glad we met and i enjoy all of our talks in the server! welcome to being 19; hope you enjoy this little gift i put together for you hehe

the doorbell finally rings, snapping you out of mindlessly scrolling on your phone. you grab your wallet and hop off the couch, more than ready to receive your pizza order for dinner.

you open the door and your brain immediately shuts down.

a young man, around the same age as you, stands before you and greets you with the most princely “good evening” ever. and if his voice wasn’t already enough to melt you, the red and black uniform looked like it was made just for him, complimenting his perfect skin and hair. that, along with his sparkling eyes was enough to convince you that he couldn’t possibly be real. you resist the urge to pinch yourself to check if you were dreaming.

“for (y/n), correct?” albedo, as you read on his name pin, snaps you out of your trance with his dreamy voice. it sounded even better when he said your name.

“yes.” you hand him the required amount of cash and take the box, brushing fingers ever so slightly. you offer the boy a smile, to which he nods in response.

albedo waves a gloved hand as he walks off of your porch. “have a good day.”

“thank you.” it sounded like the most appropriate choice of words at first, but you mentally curse yourself after he gets into the car and drives off.

you should’ve asked for his number, dammit. or at least told him to have a good day too.

what was supposed to be a perfect treat of an evening ended with you chastising yourself all throughout your meal.

this was your chance. you were going to order another pizza at the end of this week and hope that albedo would be your delivery boy again. you would at least try to remember to make more conversation with him this time, before leading up to hinting that you wanted to get to know him better.

you take a deep breath on the awaited day, when you answer the door. to your luck, it’s the exact same platinum-haired, blue-eyed mystery of a man who stole your heart within seconds.

“oh! good to see you again!” you sound a little too excited, and albedo appears perfectly unfazed.

“good afternoon. that’ll be $10.” he holds up a packet when you hand him the fee, and you raise an eyebrow. “i also got you a free sample of our newest secret sauce. it’s not supposed to be out until next month, but i’m conducting some research for my university and wanted to get a head start on people’s opinions on the taste, the texture, if they could perhaps recognize any of the ingredients used to make it..” he clears his throat. “anyways, since you’re such a dedicated customer you’re the first on the list. let me know what you think next time.”

“ah.” you lightly giggle at his rambling. he seemed very passionate about whatever field he was studying and determined to flesh out the best results for his research. you were the one who was nervous about keeping a conversation going when he seemed more than capable of doing so, as long as it was something he was acutely interested in.

and most importantly: he planned on meeting you again. there would be a next time.

“may i ask what your major is?”

“i’m a chemistry major. i was originally planning on doing biology, the study of life, but there is just as much essence of life in chemical reactions. taking two or more things to form a new substance...the embodiment of the life cycle itself.”

you nod, feeling nearly as fascinated in his studies as he appears to be. you would love to hear more about it, perhaps sitting across from him at a cafe, dressed casually out of his work clothes...

“excuse me. i do not wish to take up too much of your time. enjoy your pizza.”

“wait.” you call out, a fleeting sense of courage rising up, only for it to collapse once more when you catch yourself staring directly into albedo’s eyes. an endless ocean of curious orbs, their intensity making you feel seen right through, inside and out.

“um, actually never mind. sorry, have a nice day!” albedo nods, scratching the back of his neck as he heads off.

being unfathomably nervous and having a crush on someone farther than they appear was not a good mix.

you open the cabinet, ready to do some spring cleaning. your hand slips, accidentally knocking over an empty container. before you can pick it up, you notice a white packet that had been hidden underneath.

right. the sauce.

you hadn’t forgotten about it. you simply put it aside to try it out later with another food, just for a little adventure. but there was never any time to cook anything that would possibly go with an unknown condiment.

or more like, no one to cook with.

you grab your phone and dial the number that you’ve pretty much memorized by now. you bite your lip while listening to the other line ring.

“hello, thank you for calling favonius pizza co. this is albedo, how may i help you?”

“hi, albedo.” surely he’ll recognize your voice when he promised a next time, after all.

“oh, (y/n)? will it be the usual?” your stomach flutters from the way he perks up while saying your name.

“no, but i’m so glad it’s you answering the phone. i actually wanted to talk to you regarding the sauce. um, do you mind maybe coming over when you get off from work and i can show you exactly what i wish to convey?”

this doesn’t feel right. asking someone you’ve only met twice over into your own house, just for the sake of your silly crush that led to silly little fantasies in your head-

“sounds good. it’s been really difficult gathering feedback from other customers, due to the lack of communication. and it also works out that i can see you in person so i don’t have to take up too much time during my shift. i’ll be there in an hour and a half or so.”

you stop gaping, realizing you have to confirm your meeting. “okay! take care and i’ll see you then!”

“bye.” with that, albedo hangs up.

you rush to set up the ingredients for your cooking, date, perhaps, with albedo. even if he didn’t think of you the same way that you did, you would always cherish him agreeing to spend time with you.

an hour passes by and he’s already promptly ringing the doorbell. you can’t help but feel your knees grow weak at the sight of him in his gray hoodie and light colored jeans, his hair uncovered without the cap. and his eyes glimmer differently, adding to the new feeling his casual attire grants the sight of albedo outside of work.

“hi! the kitchens right this way!” albedo takes off his shoes and follows you to the adjacent area, right to the counter.

“you seem to have gathered more than just the sauce. and you also didn’t order a pizza either.” he remarks placing a hand under his chin.

“that’s because i wanted us to cook together and for you to see my reaction to it with other food. that’d add more variety to your results y’know?”

albedo continues to inspect the ingredients you had laid out for the chicken nuggets, picking up a jar of seasoning to smell it. “you’re definitely more invested in this than i expected you’d be.” he chuckles, the deep vibrations of his chest sending shivers down your spine.

“we shouldn’t have much of a problem if we’re doing this together, even though i’m not really the best at cooking. however there is one other thing i’ve realized...” albedo puts the jar down, turning to face you. he possesses the same observational look that he gave you the last time he delivered, and walks closer to you. the closing gap effectively cages you on the counter, your chests brushing against each other, making your breath hitch.

“(y/n),” he hums. “were you really ordering pizza the last time? or were you ordering me, instead?”

you want to reply, but any form of coherent speech dissipates in your throat. he’s so close, and normally you’d be embarrassed if someone was able to figure you out like this, yet you only found his curiosity and the way he pried into things even more attractive. especially if he had that kind of attitude towards you.

a sigh escapes your lips and you place a hand on his shoulder. “i like you albedo. and yes, i did only order pizza just because i wanted an excuse to see you. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable, and if you don’t feel the same way feel free to leave and never speak to me again. i mean that.”

albedo remains silent for a few seconds before blinking slowly and shyly taking your hand.

“i’m not going anywhere. people who care about my work...are important to me. and i do admire your directness.” he lightly strokes your skin.

“perhaps i should give you what you asked for in your special delivery then, hm?” albedo chuckles. you giggle while playing with his fingers.

feeling a little bit bold, you press your lips to his digits, causing him to short circuit on the inside at your touch.

“i shall enjoy it then.” you whisper.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #albedo #albedo x reader #albedo fluff #albedo imagines #albedo scenarios

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viking-raider · 4 years ago

Text

Hoist the Colours - Part II

Summary: You try and survive being Henry's captive, while your father plans on how to get you back.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 7,629

Warning: PG-13 - Pirate!Henry, Some Dark Themes, Language, Kidnapping, Ransom, Captivity, Possible Trigger Warning, Unwanted Physical Contact, Angst, Fluff, Bondage

Inspiration: Pirates of the Caribbean and Henry Cavill!

Author's Note: Gotta love Pirates!

Tag List Blog: @viking-raider-taglist

Henry woke with the sun glittering off the ocean and into his face and groaned, rubbing at his bearded cheeks and sat up, rolling his stiff neck and shoulders. His body was sore after the battle the day before, he crossed the swaying room and poured himself a stiff drink and quickly downed it with a groan.

Splashing some water in his face from a small basin, Henry peeked through the narrow gap between bed curtains and saw you sound asleep, before a light knock sounded on the still locked door.

“What is it?” He asked, opening the door to his first mate, Benjamin Nullings.

“Morning to you too, Captain.” Nullings greeted him back, with a smile.

Henry shook his head at the man, a smile tugging at his lips. He and Nullings had known each other for a good many years, back when they were both crewmen on another Pirate's ship, before Henry acquired the Crimson Jersey, a Spanish Galleon, and he made Nullings his First Mate, being one of the only men that he trusted.

“Good morning, Benji.” He replied to him.

“Well, good is going to depend on how you take the news I have for you.” Nullings answered, his brow creasing.

“What news?” Henry frowned, not liking the tone or the look Nullings was giving him.

“It's Valentine.” Nullings said, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his bald head. “He was injured in the skirmish yesterday, took a musket ball to the arm. The surgeon had to take it off during the night, but he ended up bleeding out and died early this morning.”

Henry's head dropped back with a growl. “Fuck.”

“Exactly.” Nullings nodded, pressing his lips together. “You know old man Norris entrusted us with his son to try and straighten the boy out, not get his arm blown off or him killed.”

“He's going to kick up quite the fuss back at the Island for this.” Henry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Has Quartermaster Astley tallied up the new loot?”

“He has, and we should make a very tidy profit of ten thousand pieces of eight.” Nullings informed him.

“Divided by a thirty man crew.” Henry squeezed his eyes closed and did the math. “Three hundred pieces per man. Norris will want his son's portion plus compensation for his death. Give him Valentine's portion and I'll compensate Norris for the death of his son.” He told Nullings, pushing his jaw forward.

“Once we get back to the Island, that is.”

“I'll have Astley make a note of it in his logs.” Nullings nodded, agreeing with his Captain and friend. “How's our bargaining chip holding up?” He asked, with a knowing smile.

“Stubborn and feisty.” Henry replied, glancing over his shoulder.

“Typical of all women.” Nullings laughed, his head thrown back.

“True enough.” Henry agreed, looking back at him. “Have Ellis keep us on course for Tortuga, but we won't be harboring there. So, have him anchor us off shore and the men will row out to it. They've earned a jaunt on shore after being at sea for the last eight months.”

“When we get the girl's ransom, do we still intend on returning to the Island?”

“Yes, we won't be able to hold anything more and we're already starting to ride lower in the water than we should.” He commented, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, we'll be in Tortuga within two days.”

“Excellent.” Henry nodded, pleased. “Have Valentine's body put in a shroud and we'll pay our respects to him this afternoon.” He instructed him, hearing you start to stir, disturbed by the sound of their voices.

“Aye, Captain.” Nullings nodded his head at Henry and went about his duties.

Henry closed the door as you pulled back the curtains, whimpering as the bright sunlight hit your unprepared eyes. “Good morning, pet.” He purred, smirking at you as you brushed your sleep tousled hair out of your face.

You huffed at him, rolling your eyes at his continued nickname for you, but didn't answer his greeting.

“Someone is a grumpy morning person.” He chuckled, openly teasing you.

“Only with bloodthirsty pirates.” You growled at him, trying to soothe the wrinkles in your skirts.

“Well, they don't call me Henry the Red for nothing, pet.” Henry grinned at you, unashamed and proud of himself. “We'll anchor off the coast of Tortuga in two days' time.” He informed you, combing his fingers through his messy curls.

“Tortuga?” You frowned up at him, surprised. “Why not Lockemirth?”

“I'm not going anywhere near Lockemirth until your dear papa has your ransom.” He replied, pulling his hair back with the leather string. “I'm not a stupid man, if I was to go near that island before hand, it would give him and the Crown amble opportunity to try and overtake my ship and crew. So, we'll wait in Tortuga.”

“Then, how will you know my father will have it?” You asked him, lifting a brow at him. “Tortuga and Lockemirth are eighty kilometers apart.”

Henry smirked at you, impressed. “A woman that knows her cartography.”

“I'm an educated woman, not the plague ridden whores you gallivant with.” You hissed at him, venomously.

“I have much finer tastes.” He replied, his stormy blue eyes scanning you for a long moment. “Anyhow, I have my ways of getting messages between the islands. So, you don't have to worry about that, pet.”

You glared daggers into him, wishing you had some means to wipe that smug look off his face. Henry stared back at you, he could see the thoughts flitting across your mind, you were either terrible at hiding how you were feeling or you weren't bothering to do so. Either way, he wasn't threatened by it or worried that you could pull it off or even attempt it to begin with, and he let that show on his own face.

“Enter!” He shouted, just as a knock came, causing you to jump at the sudden sound.

His cabin door opened and the same man from the night before entered with another silver tray with food upon it, he paid no attention to you as he bowed his head to Henry, set the tray down on his desk and left again.

“Are you starving this morning as well, pet?” Henry asked, picking up a few bits of food off of his plate and popped them into his mouth, making a big deal out of chewing and how good it tasted.

You watched him eat and felt your stomach rumble in your stays, you hadn't eaten since early afternoon the day before and were parched beyond belief. Henry lifted a silver goblet to his nose, swirling its contents and taking a whiff of it with a satisfied hum, before taking a deep swallow.

“Mmm, simply remarkable.” He said, after rolling the mouthful of wine in his mouth for a moment, before swallowing. “A 1681, Spanish Red.” He spoke, licking his lips. “I've always loved red wine, so it works out in the end.”

You gulped, feeling your hunger start to break down your willpower as you watched him enjoy the wine and food, purposely taking his time and making a show of it. With every bite of food and sip of wine your hunger and desperation grew, to the point you almost became unhinged. Henry set his goblet down and picked up yours, holding it out to you, a playful and teasing smirk and expression on his face, continuing to poke holes in your weak resolve.

“You know you want it, pet.” He hummed, lowering the deep timber of his voice, taunting you. “Wet those sweet lips of yours.” He purred, his tone teasing more than one meaning of his words. “Be a pity to let yourself go to waste.”

Gulping and licking your lips, the last of your will dissipating as you shot forward and snatched the goblet from his hand, making him laugh, as you hastily downed it, your mind not taking a moment to ask your taste buds how it tasted. Henry picked his own goblet back up, slowly sipping his wine, while you started to gorge yourself on the food. He plucked up the uncorked bottle of wine on the tray and refilled your goblet, the rich and deep red liquid splashing onto the stained oak wood of his desk as the ship bucked on the waves.

“Easy, pet.” Henry cooed at you. “Don't make yourself sick.”

You slowed down, looking up at him as you swallowed down the bit of food you had been devouring, the look in your hungry and exhausted eyes shifting, then you gulped down, audibly. A broader smirk crossed Henry's face and he rolled his eerily blue eyes at you.

“I ate the same food off the same plate, pet. It's not fouled up.” He laughed at you, increasingly amused at your silliness at thinking he, or the cook, had some how poisoned the food. He touched his fingers under your chin, smirking at you.

“For Lord's sake, you're no use to me dead or damaged.”

Another knock sounded at the door and it opened without Henry's permission, revealing Nullings. “Captain, Valentine and his shroud have been prepared, all we wait for is you.” He informed Henry, lifting a brow at the two of you.

“If you aren't busy.” He added, clearing his throat.

“I'm not.” Henry replied, dropping his hand from your chin. “Just making sure the Governor's daughter had her breakfast.” He chuckled, gently patting your cheek, then polished off his wine and set it down on his desk. “Come along, pet. All aboard are required to attend.” He told you, starting for the door.

“Attend what?” You asked, staying where you were.

“One of my men, Valentine Tash, was injured in the skirmish yesterday.” Henry replied, pulling on his jerkin. “He died, after having his arm nearly blown off.” He explained to you, settling the garment on his body.

“What's that matter to me?” You snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “You were the monster that attacked my ship. It's your fault, he's dea--”

Henry bolted across the room, the back of his big hand connecting to your surprised cheek in a harsh smack; if it wasn't for his desk, you would have crumbled to the floor, instead you fell upon the desk, sending the tray of food crashing to the floor and spilling your goblet and the bottle of wine across it.

“Every man, and woman, on this ship knows the difficulties and dangers of being on these seas and in this occupation. Death is part of that expectation, no matter who they are. If they die, from whatever the cause, they have been cautioned and informed of it, and still they chose to come. That isn't on my head or on my heart.” He hissed at you, face twisted with rage.

“So, I suggest you watch your tongue, especially when you speak of things an insolent and ignorant girl does not understand.” He grabbed you by the elbow and yanked you up onto your feet. “Do you understand what I've said?”

You looked up at him, sniffling, eyes brimming with tears and your cheek welted with his knuckles. “Y-e-s.” You hiccupped and gulped thickly.

“Good.” Henry replied, tense. “Now, we're going out there and you will behave yourself, and if you try anything stupid, you won't leave this cabin again, until I have everything I want from your father in three days.” He warned you, shoving you in the direction of the door.

You tripped over the threadbare rug on the floor, but was thankfully caught by Nullings, before you fell. He gave you a soft and sympathetic smile, supporting you until you managed to right yourself, then kindly let you go. Henry moved in behind you, making you shiver as you followed Nullings out of the Captain's cabin. You blinked at the bright light of the morning as you stepped out onto the main deck of the ship, it seemed by the amount of people there as well, that the entire crew was out and waiting for the ceremony to send Valentine off to his watery grave.

It would be a lie, if you said you weren't interested in how pirates dealt with their dead. You had spent much of the voyage on the Kilmartin dreaming up scenarios about pirates and their ways of life on the high seas; but being kidnapped and held for ransom wasn't one of them though.

You saw a canvas wrapped body on a long wood platform that was balanced on the edge of the ship with two men holding onto it, so it wouldn't prematurely fall into the roiling sea below. The men gathered around their Captain, removing what hats they were wearing and bowed their heads. Henry stood tall beside you, his broad shoulders straight and tense as he surveyed his crew, his expression hard and unreadable.

“We gather here in honor of our mate, Valentine Tash.” He said, speaking loudly over the waves crashing against the hull. “He was a good man, a hard worker and a sound fighter. It is unfortunate that we have lost him, but he will forever be remembered.”

The crew let out three cheers in agreement and honor of their fallen comrade, before Henry gave a stiff nod of his head and the two men holding the body, lifted the platform and the shrouded body of Valentine Tash slid off of it and into the abyss below, never to be seen again. The crew lingered for another moment of quiet, before silently returning to their stations. You stood beside Henry as he continued to stare after the now vanished body, you saw, now that his men were gone or distracted by their duties, the look in his ordinarily hard and guarded eyes was one of a raw heart, one that had lost many men over the years and, even after telling you he felt none of it, was a man that had felt all of those deaths as if they were his own.

Henry caught you staring at him. “What?” He snapped, regaining command of his face.

“Nothing, just enjoying the sunshine.” You replied, blinking up at the blue and cloudless sky. “You?”

His eyes narrowed, then blinked at you, softening slightly. “Same.” He answered, his voice calmer. “It won't last though.” He added a second later, squinting into the sunlight.

“Why do you say that?” You replied, frowning and trying to see what he was talking about.

Henry dropped his eyes to you, amused. “I've spent my entire life either on or by the sea.” He replied, moving to the railing. “All that experience teaches you the language and nature of it. Even if it looks calm, sunny and beautiful, there's always something brewing just beyond the horizon.” He told you, leaning his forearms against the worn and sun faded railing.

“There's a storm coming.” He whispered, narrowing his eyes at a very thin strip of dark clouds. “But, we should be off Tortuga by the time it arrives.”

“Will we make landfall then?” You asked, gulping at the thought of being on the ship, any ship, with a storm going off.

“No.” He chuckled, shaking his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “We'll be as safe on the ship as we are on land.” He could see the fear and anxiety in your face and eyes. “Don't fret, pet. I've sailed this ship around hurricanes and she hasn't sunk yet.” He grinned at you, giving you an odd feeling of safety, but also a feeling of uneasiness.

“Then again, she can't.”

“All ships sink.” You frowned, shaking your head at him.

“Not this one, pet. Not this one.” Henry replied, still grinning as he looked his beloved ship over. “She's special.”

“Special how?” You answered, starting to worry for the pirate's mental soundness.

Henry pushed off the railing and caught your chin in his fingers, tipping your head back to look up at his amused face. “That's nothing for you to worry about, pet. There are some things beyond your innocent understanding in this world and beyond it.” He told you, his eyes darkening with an almost sinister delight.

You jerked up with a gasp as a crack of lightning struck the water, so close to the Crimson Jersey that Henry's cabin lit up like broad daylight. You gripped the blankets of Henry's bed as the ship tilted and swayed at nauseating degrees under the heavy winds, the torrential rain hammered every part of the ship, pattering against the glass of the stern windows like small pebbles. You gasped again as a hiss filled the cabin, but slightly relaxed again, a spark of light flared to life and illuminated Henry's face as he leaned over his desk to touch the flame to the blackened wick of his tallow candle.

“I didn't mean to wake you.” You spoke, barely audible above the storm.

“You didn't.” Henry replied, crossing the room with a small struggle.

“I'm impressed how well you and your men can walk across the room or deck, when the ship is bucking like a wild animal.”

“It's land that tends to be tricky for most sailors.” He chuckled, pouring a drink, unphased by the glasses moving across the table. “Your body gets so used to the sway of the ship, it doesn't know how to react when you're finally on unmoving land again.” He told you, picking the glasses up and crossed over to you, holding one of them out.

“It's like watching a newborn babe try to walk for the first time.” He laughed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I'm supposing this is your first time at sea.” He said, sipping his drink.

“It is.” You nodded, staring into your own glass for a moment, before lifting it to your lips. “I would have rather stayed in London.”

“With your mother?”

Your eyes jerked over to him.

“You were the only woman on board the Kilmartin that my men and I encountered.” He clarified. “I doubt your father had you himself, so that leaves your mother still in London herself.”

“She is still in London.” You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip and trying to hold back the overwhelming wave of tears that wanted to overtake you.

You were so consumed by all the events of late, being forced to leave the only home you had ever known, to sail half a world away to a teeny island, where you knew no one other than your father. Then to be kidnapped by Pirates and held for a ransom, that you feared if your father didn't or wasn't able to pay would only end badly for you. It was all adding up on you, especially when you were still trying to deal and come to terms with your mother's passing.

“I doubt we could have brought her, even if we wanted too.” You mumbled into your glass.

“Did she not wish to join you both?” Henry asked, head slightly tilting as he noticed the cloud that crossed your face, even in the crepuscular light of the cabin.

“I'm sure she would have come with us, if she could have.” You looked up at him, eyes shining and red. “But, sailors already believe a woman on board is a bad omen, I shudder to think what they would have said about transporting the dug up coffin of one.”

Henry's mouth dropped open for a moment, before he regained his composure. “She's passed on then.”

You nodded your head, dropping your eyes back to your barely touched drink. “A year ago, this past month.” You whispered, ringing the tip of your finger around the rim of the glass. “She was sick for a very long time.” You sniffled and gulped, feeling your strength start to waver.

“I'm very sorry.” Henry whispered, softly. “It must still hurt you deeply.”

His words were the keys that opened the floodgates to everything you had pushed behind it. The walls of your throat closed and your eyes burned with the liquid fire of your tears, your breathing hitched, catching in your throat, and your shoulders trembled as tears washed over your cheeks, dripping into the glass still in your lap. Henry sighed, his face pinching in concern and sympathy as he watched you melt into sobs. Setting both glasses on the rocking floor, Henry reached out for you, resting his hands on your arms and gently pulled you into his arms and lap, tucking your head under his chin and rubbed your back, letting the sway of the ship rock the two of you. You clung to him and cried yourself out in his arms, drenching the shoulder of Henry's shirt, but he didn't care, he was a pirate after all and used to being wet.

He gently traced the outline of the whale bones sewn into your corset, beneath your dress, feeling the steadily growing weight of your body on top of his as you calmed down and fell half asleep. Biting and pressing his lips together, then sighing, Henry stood with you in his arms and leaned over the bed, gently laying you down and covered you up, before tugging his tear stained shirt off over his head, tossing it on his desk. He studied your sleeping form in his bed and sighed again, before taking the two neglected glasses back to their tray, then returned to the bed, sitting down on the edge and stared out the stern windows as the storm continued to rage around the ship.

“Look after us.” He muttered to himself, before getting into bed with you and pulled the curtains closed against the bright lightning flashes.

Henry stiffened as you whimpered in your sleep, at a rumble of thunder, before rolling into his side and relaxing again. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, but didn't move away from you, not that he could to start with, he was already laying on the very edge of the bed, so if he wanted to get away from you, he'd have to go back to where he'd been sleeping below the stern windows. So, he didn't move or push you away from him, knowing you would likely only find your way back up against his side, figuring if it gave you some measure of comfort, he might as well enjoy the warmth of your body pressed up against his, being the first woman of any standing to share a bed with him in many months, even since the last time he was on land.

“Land ho!”

The cry woke you from a sound sleep and for a moment you forgot what ship you were on, until you opened your eyes and saw Henry pulling on his discarded shirt and his boots, before unlocking his cabin door and stepped out onto the deck.

Glancing out the stern windows, you saw the mid morning sun was shining and there was even the cry of seagulls, as if the storm had never happened, and the first real sign there was actually land nearby. Excitement blossomed inside of you and you jumped to your feet, quickly going out of Henry's cabin, hot on his heels. Henry was standing on the starboard side of the ship, a spyglass held up to one of his eyes as he swept it over the glittering water.

You didn't need a spyglass to see the approaching stretch of land and felt your heart and spirits soar as high as the seagulls beginning to circle the masts. Tortuga. You heard several of the men aboard murmur across the deck as they gathered, grinning and clasping each other on the back and shoulders, excited at the prospect of touching down on land again, getting their hands on quality booze and ladies of the evening. You couldn't wait for the opportunity to sneak off the ship and find safety somewhere on the island, surely some kind soul would point you to the Mayor or Governor, a British Subject, who would then give you safe passage to your father in Lockemirth.

“Nullings, have Ellis anchor us close enough off the island that the men can row out and enjoy themselves.” Henry barked the order, snapping the spyglass shut.

“Aye, Captain!” Nullings shouted back and ran up to the helm to relay the message.

“Drop the long boats once we're anchored offshore, men!” He yelled to the gathered men on the deck.

“Aye, Cap'n!” His men roared back, throwing up their hands in cheer.

“You.” Henry called, turning towards you.

You started and looked at him as he strode over to you, catching your elbow and turning you back towards his cabin, marching you through the door.

“From this point, until your father gives me my ransom, you are not leaving this cabin.”

“Why!” You protested, planting your hands on your hips.

“Because, I know in that little head of yours, you're already plotting on how to get yourself to that island and I'm not losing my bargaining chip, and if my men have to spend their first time on land, in months, looking for you, they'll bitch about it until we get home.” He told you, sternly.

“Now, stay put and behave.”

“And if I don't?” You retorted, lifting your nose at him.

“I'll tie you to a fucking chair for the rest of your time here.” He replied with a growl, then slammed the cabin door shut, the sound of it locking following.

You let out a frustrated shriek and stomped your feet, before angrily pacing the cabin, mumbling under your breath about how much you hated him and his stupid pirate crew, hoping your father and the Crown sunk his unsinkable ship with him on it. You soon felt the ship slow and the scrapping of the anchor chain unwinding from its storage as they dropped anchor, no doubt close enough to the island for the crew to row the longboats out to shore and enjoy themselves.

“I hope they all get the bloody pox!” You shouted at the cabin door, picking up a glass from Henry's desk and launching it at the door.

“I want you to employ our usual method of message running for our ransoms.” Henry told Nullings as they stood on the deck, huddled together.

“Aye.” Nullings nodded, taking the heavy pouch of gold coins Henry held out to him. “The auction should be bustling, taking in all the ships currently in harbor.” He observed, glancing at how packed Tortuga harbor was. “I'll have Barnard and David take our messenger to Lockemirth Island. With any luck the Kilmartin survived the storm and is already anchored in their harbor. But, if they're late getting in, I'll have them wait.” He explained to Henry, running a hand over his smooth, suntanned and sweat drenched head.

“That leaves one other thing.” He sighed. “What if they wrecked in the storm? What do we do with the girl?”

Henry rolled his jaw, mulling over the possibility. “We'll deal with it, if it happens. Until then, act as if its still sailing.”

Nullings nodded. “Aye.”

With that, Nullings boarded the first long boat that had been lowered into the water and rested as the men manning the oars rowed them ashore. Once they landed, Nullings marched up the crowded beach, smiling as a few of the Crimson Jersey crew called out to him or made lewd gestures before vanishing into the streets to find the taverns and whore houses. As much as Nullings wanted to do the same, he was on official ship's business, so it would have to wait until later in the day, once his task was completed.

It only took a handful of minutes for Nullings to find the place he wanted to be, the Tortuga Slave Auction, melding into the crowd that pressed in on the auction block, voices from various positions in the crowd shouting out prices. He waited until he found one of interest and joined the chorus, not allowing the other buyers to push him out, until he finally won the bid and left the crowd to pay and collect them.

“You understand English?” He asked the teenaged boy, pulling him into a quiet and discreet corner.

“Yes.” The boy replied with a mild accent, and a nod of his head.

“Excellent.” Nullings smiled. “What's your name?”

“Hany.”

“Well, listen here, Hany. I'm the First Mate of the Crimson Jersey, and I have a task for you; a task that once you fulfill, you'll gain your freedom and a passage to any place you wish to go or a place on our crew, that will be left up to you.” He explained to him.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I do.” Hany nodded again, blinking at Nullings, wide eyed.

Nullings removed a small, rolled up piece of parchment out of his pocket. “You will take this to the Governor of Lockemirth Island, two of my men will take you there, then wait for his reply and return here with it. You will find me at the Golden Mermaid, ask for Nullings.” He said, handing him the note.

“Any questions?”

“No, sir.” Hany shook his head, tucking the note into the pocket of his filthy and tattered pants.

“Great! Follow me.” Nullings nodded, then took the teen to the boat where Barnard and David were waiting for him.

With that done and nothing else to do, Nullings went to the Golden Mermaid tavern in central Tortuga and ordered a room, a pint and a woman to fill his time, while he waited for Hany, Barnard and David to return with Sir Thomas's reply.

Thomas was a mess after Henry had taken you for ransom, going from spurts of violent anger to deep depression and lamenting. Captain Davis tried his best to keep the new Governor's spirits up, but more often than not, failed at it.

“The vile things that damned pirate and his men could be doing to my beautiful and innocent daughter.” He raged, pacing the cabin in a highly agitated state. “I swear, if he harms a hair on her head, I'll hang the bastard thrice!”

“You must keep your composure, Thomas.” Davis replied, watching his friend pace from his seat behind his desk.

“Composure!” Thomas roared, stopping before the Captain's desk and slapped it with his palms. “I don't have to do any such a thing! You are not a father, you do not know the pressure and responsibility it is for one to care for their children, especially their defenseless daughters!”

Davis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. “You know my meaning, Tom.” He replied, exhausted. “We'll be in Lockemirth harbor in a couple hours time, then we can muster what we need to rescue her, in safety.”

“Yes, we will.” Thomas growled, starting to pace again. “I'll be damned if I give that abominable pirate a cent from anywhere! The only payment he will get will be to the hangman's noose.”

A few hours later, the HMS Kilmartin docked in Lockemirth harbor and Sir Thomas disembarked from the ship, meeting the welcoming party the gentry of the island had put together for him, and you had you been with him. But, Thomas was in no mood for a welcome party and good cheer under the circumstances. He demanded to be shown the base of his operations and have all the top officials of the island to be assembled there, at once.

Several people branched out from the large group that had congregated around him, to set about his orders, while the rest of them showed him the Governor's office.

“What is the meaning of this?” One of the officials demanded as he entered Sir Thomas's office.

“Yes.” Chimed another, entering behind the first.

“We have serious business to conduct.” Thomas snapped, glaring at the full room of officials.

“What business can be so urgent that you must conduct it the moment you've stepped on the island?”

“While we were sailing here, we were attacked and boarded by pirates.” Thomas replied, his temper mounting more and more.

“Pirates!” Several gasped.

“Yes, pirates!” He barked, impatiently. “They've not only stolen several valuables from the HMS Kilmartin, they've also kidnapped my daughter and are holding her for ransom.”

A murmur went through the collection of men in the room, agitating everyone.

“What is the pirate's demand for her back?” One of the men asked, lifting a brow at Sir Thomas.

“Three-fourths of the islands money and goods.”

“Absolutely not!” The man roared back. “You can't just show up here and give them almost all that we have, I don't care if the pirate has your mother!” He protested, several of the others agreeing.

“I have no intention of giving them anything, you fools.” Thomas hissed, banging a fist on his desk.

“Then, how do you propose we retrieve your daughter back?”

“That—what is it?” Thomas barked as the door to his office opened to his clerk, Samuel.

“There is a boy here to see you, Sir.” The clerk replied, sheepishly. “Says, he has a message for you.”

“Tell him to wait.”

“But, Sir, he says it's from a man on a ship called the Crimson Jersey.”

Thomas stiffened at his words. “Let him in.” He said, pushing off his desk.

The clerk pushed the door open and stood out of the way, omitting Hany into the office. He looked around at the full room and gulped, slowly removing the note Nullings had given him out of his pocket and held it up, looking into the face of everyone in the room, not sure which of them it was meant for.

“Governor?” He said, hesitantly.

“Yes, that's me.” Thomas replied, stepping from behind his desk. “Hand it here.”

Hany took a couple steps forward, meeting Thomas halfway and allowed him to take the note from his hand. “I wait for reply.” He informed your father, uncomfortable.

“Yes, yes.” Thomas nodded, breaking the wax seal and unrolled the stiff paper.

“To the Governor of Lockemirth Island. I send you this note to inform you that I and your daughter, who is in good health and condition, are quite nearby to your island of Lockemirth. I send this messenger and expect him, and your answer, back before first light tomorrow morning. If he, or your reply, do not return by that time, I will take that as a sign of your refusal to pay her ransom and your leaving her to my mercy. Captain Henry Cavill of the pirate ship, the Crimson Jersey.”

Thomas read the note aloud, his hands slowly starting to shake with the multitude of emotions he was struggling to keep at bay.

“What is your plan, Governor?” One of the men asked, watching him restlessly pace the room.

He paced the room for several more moments, trying to gather his thoughts and form some sort of plan to get you back from Henry. Stepping up to the globe that was beside his desk, he studied it for a long moment, before turning to his desk and took up a quill and a piece of parchment paper, scribbling down his reply to Henry's note, and sealed it, pressing the signet ring on his pinkie into the cooling wax to make it official.

“Take this back to him and tell him we'll be waiting for him at that location.” He told Hany, then dismissed him to return to Nullings with the reply.

“Sir?” A man impatiently growled.

“We'll be meeting the pirate on Hafstead island.” Thomas replied, meeting the group's eye. “There is only one likely place that the Pirate and his men would make harbor in, and that's Tortuga. It's the only Island close enough to us and is friendly to their kind.” He explained his logic.

“Putting Hafstead island between Tortuga and Lockemirth, a perfect neutral ground for our transaction.”

“You stated you wouldn't be giving them their ransom demands? How then, are you planning to get your daughter back from them?”

“Misdirection.” Thomas smiled at him.

“We'll fill two crates with the goods and the rest with something else that will weigh roughly the same as the real two. They'll demand to see proof that we have their demands, so when they do, we show them the first two. Once they've handed my daughter over and move to start loading the ransom onto their long boats, we'll have guards from here attack, and all will be well.”

“I'll have my daughter back and the island will lose none of its profits.”

“You're sure this will work?”

“Yes.” He nodded, confidently.

With what men who wanted to go ashore gone, Henry let some of the tension go out of his shoulders, before heading back into his cabin. He opened the door just as you were opening one of the windows at the back of the ship, crouching in it, poised to jump into the water blow.

“Don't you dare!” Henry barked between clenched teeth, pointing a finger at you in warning, his lip curling with anger.

You looked over your shoulder at him, heart racing in your chest and hands shaking as you gripped the open window frame. Both of your hearts paused for a frightful moment, and everything became slow-motion; Henry taking a slow step forward as you gradually let go of the window and tipped forward out of it. Reality caught up as you slipped out the window, free falling countless meters, just as Henry stuck his head out the open window to see you crash into the foamy waves.

“Fuck!” He shrieked, enraged and concerned.

Glancing behind him for a moment, Henry tore off his jerkin and boots, before swan diving out of the window and into the water after you. Making it into the water, Henry saw you slowly sinking and struggling to swim with the weight of your clothing bearing down on you. Bubbles rose towards him as you struggled to hold your breath and quickly losing the fight. Kicking his feet harder, Henry reached you and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you against his sturdy body, buoying both of you, before his fingers dug into the ties of your corset and dress, ripping them open and letting the heavy garment slip off your body and sink into the oblivion of the ocean below. Kicking his legs in unison with yours, Henry propelled you both to the surface of the choppy waves.

“You fucking brat!” Henry hissed, shaking his head, his long hair coming free from its tie, before sticking two fingers into his mouth and let out a shrill whistle, right beside your ear, uncaring if it hurt you as you coughed and sputtered for air.

A shrill whistle sounded back as he guided you around to the side of the ship, the remaining crew leaning over the railing, to see the two of you treading water.

“Man overboard!” A call went out, the men jumping to action.

“Captain overboard!” Another corrected back.

Several of the crew helped Henry haul you back onto the ship from a small ladder built into its starboard side. You stood on the deck in nothing but your shift, hugging your arms against your chest and shivering violently in the strong breeze. Henry finally set his soaking feet onto the deck, the men huddled around him for a moment, to make sure he was all right, but his blue eyes were burning holes into you.

“Go back to your duties!” He bellowed at his men, who paused for a moment, then scattered out of sight.

Henry snapped across to you, his hand raised and stopping a centimeter away from your cheek, you scrunched up your body, wincing and turning your head away, anticipating the slap. He shook, throat bobbing up and down as he struggled to control his white hot anger. His hand unclenched and squeezed around your jaw, in a bruising grip. He jerked your head forward to look up at him, making you whimper. Your frightened eyes looked into his furious blue gaze, like he was tearing you apart with his sight alone.

You shivered again and whined, cold and scared, the suspense of not knowing what Henry was going to do to you, for your open and continued disobedience.

His hand moved from your chin and grabbed you by the neck, making you yelp with alarm, terrified he was about to kill you. But he growled deep in his throat; dull nails digging into your skin. Henry jerked you sharply towards him, crushing you against his soaking body and crashing his lips to your cold ones, in an angry and sloppy kiss, his other hand coming up to tangle in the back of your wet hair. You struggled against him, squirming, beating and clawing at his chest, but Henry wasn't deterred, his continued to kiss you, for a long moment, before breaking it, then, with his hand still in your hair, Henry dragged you back into his cabin and shoved you onto his bed, uncaring that you would get the blankets and mattress wet.

Stomping across the cabin, he retrieved a coil of twine that was on a sideboard and crossed back to you. Yanking your arms up, Henry tightly weaved the rough twine around your wrists and tied it off, leaving a length of it hang from it, before cutting the excess with a small knife that was in his belt. Taking the lead of your bonds, Henry tied it to one of the bed posts.

“You're a fool.” You hissed at him as he picked up his boots and jerkin, closing the window as well.

“Am I?” He laughed, tossing his jerkin over the back of his chair.

“My father doesn't suffer Pirates.” You replied, jerking on your bonds. “He never has and he never will. You may think you'll get what you want. But, the moment he has me. He will kill you.” You told him with a deep conviction.

“He's been killing Pirates, better than you, before you were alive.”

Henry turned towards you, eyes wide with focus as he regarded you and digested your words, but before he could answer you, the door flew open and Nullings came flying in, skidding to a stop as he noticed you tied to the bed, then looked to Henry with a questioning look.

“What's the word?” Henry asked, ignoring his expression.

Clearing his throat, Nullings replied. “The Governor has replied to our ransom, he'll meet us at Hafstead island with our demands in exchange for the girl, tomorrow afternoon.”

Henry gripped the back of his chair, drumming his fingers against the carved dark wood, then glanced over at you, before pushing off his chair and hustled out of the cabin with Nullings, closing the door behind them.

“It's a set up.” Henry told him, keeping his voice low.

“What?” Nullings snapped, brow and forehead creasing. “Why do you say that?”

“Something she said.” He replied, carding a hand through his drying curls. “I want you to go back into town, find a girl her height and appearance..”

“I'm sure the man knows what his own flesh and blood looks like, Hank.” Nullings huffed, shaking his head. “Be real.”

“Listen to me.” Henry growled back, chest heaving. “Cover her head, so they don't see her face. That way, we find out just how truthful the dear old Governor is being. Take everything they bring for the ransom, only after everything loaded, will you give her to them.”

“And where will she be?”

“With me.” Henry replied. “I know Hafstead island, I know a good place to keep her. If anything goes wrong, I'll take her back aboard here, we'll all come back to the ship and head for our island.”

“You want to take her back to Shipwreck Island, if something goes awry?”

“That was the deal.” Henry barked at him. “His refusal to pay, would forfeit her to my mercy.”

“What do you bloody plan to do with her?” Nullings asked, exasperated.

“I'll figure something out.” He replied, unperturbed. “Do you understand the plan, Ben?”

Nullings tapped his foot, antsy, as he ran through the plan in his head, things were getting so much more complicated than he anticipated.

“Yeah, yeah!” He sighed, giving in. “I got it, Hank.”

“Great, get about it.” Henry smiled, patting his friend on the shoulder and going back into his cabin. “You and I, my sweet pet.” He grinned, tilting your head back to look up at him.

“Have a date tomorrow.”

168 notes · View notes

arywizm · 3 years ago

Text

Books read in July

aka my wild chase to catch up with popular literature

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo - “Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.” || 5/5

*incoherent screaming*

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo - “My mother is Ketterdam. She birthed me in the harbor. And my father is profit. I honor him daily.” || 4. 5/5

it's just as good as SoC, I just liked the concentrated structure of the first one better.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller - “‘There was blood’ I snarled ‘ All over him, his face. In his mouth. Do you know what it did to him?’” || 5/5

I really wanted to love this and it didn't disappoint in the slightest.

Slaughterhouse-five by Kurt Vonnegut - “And Lot's wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human. So she was turned into a pillar of salt. So it goes.” || 5/5

I was reading this and felt like crying and laughing at the same time but I couldn't do either. So it goes.

Vicious by V.E. Schwab - “It perplexed him, how someone about to play God could pray to Him, but it clearly didn’t bother his friend.” || 4,5/5

I had so much fun that I don't care if the characters' motivations made sense. They could have hated each other for stealing each other's socks for all I care.

Vengeful by V.E. Schwab - “When you think about it, it’s really all anyone ever wants. Once upon a time, power was determined by lineage—the age of blood. Then it was determined by money—the age of gold. But I think it’s time for a new age, Victor. The age of power itself.” || 3,5/5

it's not even that this is bad, it isn't, it's just so bland compared to the first one.

If we were villains by M. L. Rio - “Romeo and Juliet,” I said again. (...) “Would you change the ending, if you could? What if Benvolio came forward and said, ‘I killed Tybalt. It was me.’' || 4,5 /5

I had my problems with it at the beginning and I was squirming all the way through, waiting for it to end, but maybe that's because it hits a little too close to home for me. everything after the first quarter fully deserves a 5 though, an amazing concept and it really shines through in the second half, incredible how I had my suspicions early on but just didn't want to believe it. also yes, I hid in the bathroom and cried over it all.

A darker shade of magic by V. E. Schwab - The bodies in my floor all trusted someone. Now I walk on them to tea. || 3.5/5

this is a very long short story, I enjoyed it though.

A Gathering of Shadows by V.E. Schwab - If there is a god, she thought, a celestial body, a heavenly power, or anyone above—or below—who might just like to see me live another day, for pity’s or entertainment’s sake, now would be a good time to intercede. || 2.5/5

a lot of things happened but also nothing happened. I really didn't enjoy reading this one but somehow I'm still invested enough to read the third book.

The Wicker King by K. Ancrum - "Where we are, there is light." The wind blew hard from the east and the trees rustled their branches. "From where I’m standing… it is warm enough." || 5/5

I was like 'this is just a silly, pretentious YA' and than the silly and pretentious YA hurt my feelings.

what is this cover design though

The Foxhole Court by Nora Sakavic - "What about the line-up?" Kevin asked. Nicky winced. "Kevin, the man is dead. Like, permanently." || 2.5/5

the only time I ever cried in public was in fourth grade when my mum called to tell me I have to stay in school for two more hours to attend additional German lessons. this entire book feels like that moment.

The Legend of the Golden Raven by K. Ancrum - So old and so weary of each other’s tantrums and each other’s needs. August looking at him with millennium eyes as Jack fulfilled every inch of every requirement expected of him. Taking the lead when August got weak, handing it back when his own knees buckled. Hitting against each other back and forth until Newton’s cradle turned into Huygens’s pendulum and they finally moved as one. || 4.5/5

I'm going to be the odd one out but I am not a fan of the scenes revisited from Jack's pov but I really loved the fantasy parts. the writing is more lyrical in this one, but it's also a bit melodramatic at times? anyhow I didn't really mind.

Plays

The Government Inspector by Nikolai Gogol - I mix chiefly with the literary set—Pushkin and I are great pals.

I like my Russian plays. what of it.

78 notes · View notes

cactusnymph · 4 years ago

Text

matters of the heart

“Sir Caroline, I must ask your advice in an important matter.”

“You don’t have to call me ‘Sir’ anymore, Angelo. We’ve been over this.”

“Excuse me, Caroline. Now, this important matter—“

“Is this about Ale? Because, and I cannot stress this enough, I do not want to hear anything about your love life, Angelo.”

Angelo has to admit that this is not the way he had hoped the conversation to go. He feels himself deflate a little as he looks at Caroline’s disapproving face.

“But S—Caroline, I wouldn’t know who else to ask! Usually my best friend and former rival would be my first choice, but he’s not available at the moment.”

Caroline looks at him for a moment then sighs, lowering her head into her hands for a heartbeat before looking up at him again.

“Fine. Just this once. Next time you can just write Damien a letter.”

“Yes, Sir—I mean. Yes, Caroline.”

Caroline starts massaging her temple.

“So. Spit it out. What is it?”

“I almost can’t believe that I am saying this—truly, I think it is the first time I understand my friend Damien. I must speak my heart—“

“Oh, for the love of—“

“You are married to Miss Quanyii, are you not, Caroline?”

“Yes, I am. What does that have to do with anything?”

“So you must be well-versed in matters of the heart! How did you court your wife? I admit, I have never attempted this before and I have no idea how to go about courting a man—“

“And why should it be different than courting a woman, Angelo?”

Angelo pauses for a second. It was brought to his attention many times now that the distinctions between men and women he has learned about all his life might not actually be as accurate as many people make them out to be. Truly, Caroline is the best example. And now he has met Ale and Miss Quanyii, who is sometimes not Miss Quanyii but Mr Quanyii.

Angelo considers Caroline’s words.

“So you’re saying I should court Ale in the exact same way I would court a woman”, he says.

Caroline rolls her eyes.

“I do not see how gender has anything to do with this, Angelo. The way you court a person depends on the person. Not all women care for flowers and candles and love letters. I have no idea what Ale would prefer as courting; maybe he doesn’t want to be courted at all.”

“Like Sir Talfryn, yes. I have learned about this. You are correct, Caroline and I am glad to have asked you. I shall speak to Ale about this to make sure that I am not overstepping any boundaries! I thank you for your wisdom! Hophophophophophop.”

Angelo is not afraid of anything.

He’s not afraid of pain or fighting or dying or even things as complicated as numbers even though he is not very good at them. But when he finds Ale sitting next to Olala, showing her how to start a campfire with her little hands, something tightens in Angelo’s chest and all he can do is stare.

Ale is beautiful. Dark skin, long hair, big eyes and long lashes, a soft smile as he tells little Olala that she’s doing well.

Angelo feels his stomach drop; a sensation that is very similar to falling and his heart beats so rapidly in his chest that he has trouble breathing for a moment.

Maybe he should have rehearsed this. Maybe it would be better if little Olala was not there with Ale. Maybe he was hasty when he concluded that speaking directly to Ale would be the best course of action. A warrior’s approach. Head on. The same way he always approaches difficulties.

Ale looks up when he notices Angelo and he flashes him a grin that makes Angelo’s insides squirm around like very lively snakes. Saints, if he starts using more metaphors for how Ale makes him feel he might turn into Damien before he knows it.

“Hey schoolboy, what can we do for you?”

Angelo isn’t sure why it makes him feel warm and tingly when Ale calls him ‘schoolboy’, but it absolutely does.

He clears his throat.

“I was about to—hm. Well.”

Angelo wishes Damien were here so he could tell him how to find the right words for this. Damien has such a knack for language and beautiful words, while Angelo—well. Angelo has never in his life understood one poem that Damien showed to him.

“We’re making fire, Sir Angelo! I made a small flame, all without magic! Look!”, Olala proclaims excitedly and waves at the little wisp of smoke her efforts have conjured.

“Very good, Olala. I—uh. I must take my leave.”

And for the first time in his life, Sir Angelo The Strong turns around and flees.

“Aw, Angelo, what is it?”

Angelo looks up as Quanyii appears out of nowhere right beside him.

“I am afraid that I have become a coward, Miss Quanyii”, he says as he looks down at his big hands.

“I highly doubt that, sweetie. Is this about our beautiful vigilante boy?”, Quanyii wants to know as she scoots closer to Angelo, her colorful hair surrounding her head like a cloud.

“Yes. I have spoken to Si—to Caroline about this and she gave me important insight on the matter of courting rituals.”

“She did?”, Quanyii asks, sounding surprised.

“Yes. She explained that courting is not a matter of gender but of the individual’s personality. She also pointed out that Ale might have no interest in romantic relationships which I had not considered before.”

Quanyii puts her index finger to her lips and taps them thoughtfully.

“Yes, yes, such wisdom. But have you considered asking me about this? Romance is a magical thing after all and sweetheart, I’m a witch! Caroline doesn’t know one itsy-bitsy thing about romance, let me tell you that”, Quanyii says and pouts a little.

Angelo raises his head.

“So you would help me in this quest to court Ale?”, he asks. The grin that spreads on Quanyii’s face makes Angelo pause. This might not be a good idea.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you worry your silly little head. I will give you one tip for free because we have become such good friends during those past few weeks! I know a little secret and that is that Ale does like romance!”

Angelo feels his face light up with a smile as relief courses through his entire body. He feels like he could do a hundred push-ups right here and now. Maybe even lift Porthos. Or the whole, fallen tree he’s sitting on.

“Why thank you, Miss Quanyii, that is most helpful!”

He grabs both of her hands and shakes them as Quanyii giggles.

“You are so very welcome, Angelo. For every other piece of help I’m going to require a little bit of payment. A witch has to make do, you know.”

Angelo doesn’t really understand but he nods anyway and gets up from the fallen tree trunk.

“I do not believe that I will need further assistance, now that the issue of romantic attraction has been resolved! Sir Angelo The Strong is back on his feet! Ha ha! Hophophophophophop.”

“Good luck, brave knight!”, Quanyii calls after him as Angelo runs back towards the camp.

Now that Angelo knows that Ale is not generally opposed to romance the path seems clear. That is, at least until Angelo arrives back at the place where Ale and Olala made their little fire before.

The two of them are still there, but both of them are asleep. Ale is sitting with his back against a tree, his legs spread, and Olala has curled up between his legs, her tail gently snoring. Caroline sits by the fire and sharpens her blade.

She looks up as Angelo enters the clearing.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Angelo”, she says as Angelo stares at Ale’s sleeping form. His long lashes are feathered out on his cheeks and for a second Angelo imagines to brush his fingers over Ale’s cheek and give him a kiss.

The thought immediately sends his heart into another gallop that would make Porthos proud and Angelo swallows heavily.

“I cannot report any ghost sightings at this point, Sir—I mean. Caroline.”

Angelo notices how Caroline’s eyes narrow as she looks him up and down and since Caroline has stated that she has no interest to know anything about Angelo’s love life he tries very hard to respect her wishes and to not look at Ale as if he’s the most beautiful thing that Angelo has ever seen.

Which he very definitely is.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, sit down, you oaf”, Caroline snaps and Angelo, still as an automatic response to her authoritative voice, walks over to the fire and sits down next to her.

“Did you talk to Quanyii?”, she wants to know.

“Yes. She cleared up a question I had and I thought it would make things easier, but as it turns out, it did not.”

“I wouldn’t make any deals with her, witches are fickle and cunning creatures.”

“Babe, you’re being so mean!”

“Oh, shut it. You know it’s true.”

“Yes, but when you say it like that it’s mean, mean, mean!”

Angelo watches them bicker for a while before his eyes drift back over to Ale and Olala. Ale’s hand is resting on Olala’s back and Angelo looks at it for a while. Ale’s hand is much smaller than his and Angelo wonders what it would feel like to hold it. It must be rough from all the sword-fighting, much like Angelo’s hand.

Maybe Ale doesn’t have any interest in holding Angelo’s hand. Maybe Ale doesn’t like men.

“What is it now, Angelo”, Caroline asks with an expression on her face that says she might regret asking.

“I forgot to consider another important thing regarding this whole courting business”, Angelo says and looks at Caroline. Quanyii seems to have vanished into thin air—something Angelo has seen happening multiple times during those last few weeks.

“Which is?”

“You made me aware of the possibility of Ale being averse to romantic relationships, but I forgot to consider whether or not Ale would be opposed to romantic relationships to men. I only ever knew one man who liked another man. Lizard. Does it count as a man if it is a lizard? I certainly don’t know. My point stands, though.”

Caroline sighs deeply and cards through her short her.

“It seems highly unlike you to ask all these questions instead of simply acting, Angelo”, she says and looks at him with a stern gaze.

Angelo sighs.

“Yes, I know. I am afraid I have found my most lethal opponent yet! Matters of the heart! No monster could ever best me in combat, but my own heart is betraying me.”

Caroline puts her blade to the side and leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she looks at Angelo with her piercing eyes.

“Just talk to him. It’s that easy. No one can ever truly know another person’s heart or thoughts unless they speak them out loud.”

“Unless you’re a witch”, comes a disembodied sing-song from somewhere above them.

“Unless you’re a witch in which case you should stay out of people’s heads”, Caroline barks up the tree and looks back at Angelo.

“I cannot believe that I should turn into a coward for something as simple as talking. It seems highly ridiculous.”

Caroline shrugs.

“Emotions are hard. And I... understand your hesitance. But you should not let your feelings rule over your rational thoughts.”

“That is a very Caroline thing to say, Sir Caroline.”

“Stop calling me ‘Sir’ already!”

“Certainly, Sir Caroline.”

“Ugh.”

“Ale, can I ask you a personal question?”

“You can ask anything you want, schoolboy. I can decide whether or not I want to answer.”

“Oh—yes. That is very reasonable. Thank you. Uh—“

“Sir knight, are you alright? Did you get sunburnt? Sir Caroline says it is important to not stay outside in the sun for too long!”

“I am not sunburnt, little Olala.”

“Ask your question, schoolboy. Is this about gender again?”

“Uh—no. Not—huh. I suppose it is! But not in the way you think!”

“Well then, shoot.”

“This is more about the genders of others, I suppose! A potential paramour, one might say! I have a friend who has a fiancée but who is also involved with a man. Lizard. Male lizard? I am not entirely certain about the lizard’s gender and I was told not to assume. Anyway. What I wanted to ask—“

“You want to know if I like lizards?”

“No, that’s not—“

“I was joking, schoolboy. Calm down. You want to know what kind of people I’m attracted to.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t much care about gender, but it doesn’t happen often that I’m attracted to people. Either romantically or sexually.”

“Oh.”

“I just don’t fall in love easily. And I don’t find many people hot.”

“Hm.”

“Any more questions?”

“Yes, but I am afraid they would be borderline offensive and highly invasive.”

“Well then. Let’s keep it at that, schoolboy.”

“Sir knight, are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, little Olala.”

“It’s just that you are usually very loud but you have been very quiet for a while. I recently learned about heatstrokes and it sounds awful and I hope you don’t have a heatstroke, Sir knight.”

“I don’t think I have anything of the kind, Olala.”

Olala sits down next to Angelo. He’s leaning against Porthos who’s lying down and nibbling on some grass. Ale and Caroline are investigating something and since Angelo is not the best at clues he offered to stay behind to guard their belongings and also Olala.

“Most adults do not like to tell children why they’re sad. But if you wanted to, I would certainly listen.”

“That’s very kind of you, Olala. Have you ever liked someone?”

“Of course! I like so many people!”

“Ah, yes. Hm. And were you ever scared to tell any of these people that you like them?”

“No, Sir knight. I grew up in the Garden of Graves and we tended to the dead and my sisters always taught me that it is important to speak your heart while the people you love are alive, for you never know when they might die and then you can’t tell them anymore.”

“That is... very wise, Olala.”

“Thank you, Sir knight! My sisters taught me a great many things and I am honored to pass their wisdom on to others.”

Angelo looks down at Olala’s small form and ruffles her hair.

“I will take it to heart!”, he promises.

“Hey, Angelo. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

They make camp by a river and Caroline takes Olala for a bath. Angelo turns around to look at Ale, who tied his long braids into a top knot. He’s wearing a white tunic that is a little too big for him and allows Angelo a view of Ale’s collarbone.

Angelo tries very hard not to stare because he refuses to be disrespectful any more than he already was when they first met.

“Of course, Ale.”

Ale looks at him. Angelo would never trust himself to read people’s behavior—that has never been his forté. But he could swear that Ale looks almost a bit nervous; something that Angelo hasn’t seen on him so far.

“So, remember that talk we had? About how I might like lizards or not?”, Ale begins and Angelo winces a little.

“It was poorly worded and I apologize—“

“It’s fine, Angelo. That’s not what this is about. But... you remember what I said. About not being attracted to people often?”

“Yes. I remember.”

“Why did you want to know that?”

Angelo takes a deep breath and scratches the back of his head.

“I—uh. Well”, he starts, then doesn’t know how to continue. He remembers the talks he had with Caroline and Olala and straightens his back. Sir Angelo the Strong will not back down from a challenge. Any challenge!

“I would like to court you, Ale.”

Ale blinks. Once, twice, three times.

He opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“You—what?”

“Courting. I would like to court you. Woo you. Win you over. In the romantic sense. But I was not sure if that was something that would make you uncomfortable, so I tried to figure out if you might be opposed against courtship. By men. Or anyone.”

Ale takes two steps towards him and Angelo has the great need to spread his arms and pull Ale close to him, but he doesn’t. He’s asking for permission and he will not ruin this by overstepping boundaries.

A slight chuckle pulls him back to reality and he sees Ale’s eyes twinkle, the corners of his lips turned upwards.

“Are you asking me on a date, schoolboy?”, Ale asks. His playful smile is doing things to Angelo he can’t describe because he is not Damien. But man, he almost feels the need to write a poem about that smile. That is how badly smitten he is with this wonderful, splendid man standing in front of him.

“I suppose so! Ale, will you allow me to take you on a date?”

Ale takes another step and raises his hand to softly flip one finger against Angelo’s forehead.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#ale of milltown #tpp #the penumbra podcast #penumbra podcast #the second citadel #second citadel #sir angelo #sir angelo the strong #alengelo #mi writes #i'm still in the penumbra zone #and i love these two so much and also the whole weirdo brigade

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bubble-booty-cuties · 4 years ago

Note

Yesterday, the bindings on Naoto's ass came a bit loose, which seemed to distract Senpai when she subtly probed him for info (read: had a steamy makeout/petting session with him at school). Thinking she could get him to slip up and reveal something, Naoto not only ditched them entirely, she wore her tightest, ass-huggingest pants. Unfortunately, she didn't how much the attention she's getting turned her on, or how sensitive her ass really was, until Senpai had gotten his hands on them.

Once again, I took this ask and turned it into something bigger, sorry if you were hoping for something else!

__________________________________

"Y-Yes Niijima-San.. Yes, I know.. I require a bit more time before I can show you anything concrete, but I promise you, I am very close to cracking this case wide open! I need only find my in, and I will have my suspect! Yes, I won't fail!" With a tap of her phone the call was ended, and Naoto looked straight ahead towards her destination.

Well, she tried to at least, currently she was doing her absolute best to turn invisible in the middle of a busy backstreet, and failing, unsurprisingly.

Even as she looked down low at the ground, hiding her face behind the rim of her hat, the echoes of her own high heels clacking against the stone ground reverberated loudly, and she could hear every one of her steps. Though she was having a bit of trouble, she'd quickly grown used to the shoes and her pace was quick, hoping to reach Leblanc with some ounce of dignity left, at least.

And why was she dressed in such eye catchingly blue, high heeled shoes? Well, it was to accentuate the rest of her outfit, something Ann had managed to drill into her when she'd made her purchase the shoes on one of their outings. For the shoes matched her dark blue button up shirt, blending wonderfully with her own hair. And they even matched her deep blue lipstick covered lips.

Of course, that was just about the most normal part of her outfit. Foregoing her chest binder once again, her plump, perky breasts bounced freely with each long stride of her long legs, straining against her shirt and revealing her deep, creamy pale valley of cleavage that not only stretched out her shirt, but pressed her erect nipples against the soft fabric, making each move a slight, shiver inducing feeling of fabric against sensitive nubs.

Naoto cursed silently as another man passing by tripped and stared like she was the first woman he'd ever seen, his head following her even as she passed by, no doubt looking at her massive, wobbly globes of meaty ass hang out of her extremely tiny, slutty jean booty shorts. Did she forget to mention the shorts? How silly of her, it wasn't as if she felt like she was walking around in nothing but a thong in public with the chill to match.

And speaking of thongs, hers hugged her hips high above where the shorts ended, putting together the perfect slutty image that she regretted she pulled off so well. Damn her naturally curvy figure. Damn her perky, ballooning tits that even Makoto looked jealous of when she saw how they naturally stayed perky. And damn her massive, round, bouncy butt that she could literally feel jiggling with every step!

Why couldn't things have been easy and she was just small? No, she had to be short AND stacked. Even her thighs were plump and meaty, something that made all kinds of men stare. She swore her face would catch fire if one more man whistled after her. But she was so close, so close to Leblanc and so close to making Senpai confess to his crimes!

That's what all of this was for! She had to keep reminding herself, even as her shorts rode up between her perfectly meaty, fat, giant cheeks like a second skin, like a thong, and even as she convinced herself that NO she wasn't wet. You have no proof otherwise! Senpai's weakness, that's what this was! He talked more when she'd dressed like this, talked more when he had her on the ropes doing lewd things to her, talked more into her ear while he was fingering her holes then he ever had before!

That was her chance, she had to make him talk through any means necessary! And if that meant dressing like a five dollar whore for him to toy with while he finally slipped up and spoke of his status as the head of the Phantom Thieves, then goddamnit that's what she was going to do! She was a Shirogane Detective, and she would do what it takes!

"But maybe I should have at least brought a coat.." She muttered to herself as she finally made it to Leblanc's front door, the sign reading closed, but the lights on inside. She'd texted him, told him she'd be coming over, so surely the door was unlocked? At least that meant she wouldn't have to be gawked at by men on the street, but perhaps the alternative of being toyed with and.. Licked was the wasn't the lesser of the two evils..

Bells rung out above her head as she pushed her way inside, making sure the door behind her shut and locked, just so she and him were left alone, and no one walked in while she was dressed this way.

"Senpai? I'm, um, I'm here!" The detective however got no response, the cafe lit up, but seemingly quiet.

"Senpai?" She called out again, hoping for a reply. With a cautious step, Naoto stepped deeper into the cafe and towards the stairs of the attic, where her suspect's room was.

"Hello? The door was unlocked so I let myself in!" She called out just as she made it to the top of the stairs, just to see.. Nothing. The young man was nowhere in sight. Not even his feline companion was in his room.

"What? But he knew I was coming over. Perhaps I should try his cell-Ah!!"

"Why don't we skip to the fun part?"

Naoto squealed yelled in fright as she felt the large, warm hand of her Senpai suddenly smack grip her bubble butt as hard as he could, his other arm snaking around her slim waist and hugging her back closely to his chest, and she didn't even hear his footsteps coming up the stairs! H-How did he sneak up on her?!

"S-Senpai! How did you-? N-No, it doesn't matter, I've come to talk with you!" Naoto tried her best to relax against the young man, but she usually found it difficult when he was groping and mauling her fat ass like a stress toy.

"You came to talk," He started, plainly, evenly, even as he felt p her curves. He simply talked gently into her ear. "You came to talk, dressed in this?"

"I-I.." Naoto froze, looking down at her own clothes, her own perky breasts, feeling her own heat racing. Was it excitement? Was it worry? Why were things never easy with him..? "I need to ask you a few questions, S-Senpai.."

"Sure." Was all she heard as he began kissing the side of her neck, one of his hands snaking down between her thighs in the way it always did when they were alone, in the way that made her spread her legs for him instinctively.. Pushing her pelvis against his hand as if to invite him inside of her..

N-No! Focus! The bluenette detective bit her lip, her face bright red once again, and she tried her best to focus on anything but the pleasure of his fingers.

"Senpai, where were you on-Aah~!" His fingers hooked against her inner walls, and she was gently lead to his bed in the corner of the room, pushed slowly, her high heels clacking loudly. "Wh-Where were you on the night o-of October 8th?"

The young man froze for a second, his fingers paused in her folds, before continuing the next, so quickly she almost didn't catch it, but she did, and she wasn't sure what emotion filled her in that moment.

"With my friends." Was all he said as they both got on their knees on the bed.

"Wh-Where, Senpai?"

"Here and there."

Naoto had to actively rip her mind away from the hope that he was going to bend her over and eat her out again, she had to stop herself from looking forward to the feeling of his face between her- Stop! She's so close! She can feel it!

"Plea-Mmh~! Please answer the question, S-Senpai!" She needed to know! She.. Fuck, why was it so hard to focus when he was so close?! She couldn't even think of what else to ask, her practiced questions, her traps she had thought up for days! Not when he was so close to bending her over once again, not when she wanted to feel his tongue slither passed her tight pucker once more!

That feeling of his tongue inside her ass, it was.. Damnit she'd resorted to fingering her own backdoor on nights he'd teased her just to leave her alone! Her face burned, her lower lips burned with need even more, and all she could remember was that she needed to know the answer to that one damn question!

And then he stopped, with them both on their knees on the bed, he'd stopped his fingers from toying with her, and he pulled away from her sensitive neck to talk into her ear.

"How about a wager?" Naoto's eyes shot open from their clenched shut state in surprise. "If you win, I'll answer any question you want with the truth-"

The detective's heart raced in her chest, the whole truth, there, right there within her grasp.

"And if I win, you have to answer any question I want, with the full truth."

"Wh-What's the wager..?" Whatever it was, she needed to try, she's so close, she could feel it.

"Simple. The first one to cum loses." Excited butterflies bubbled up in her tummy, but just so did trepidation. She'd never made him cum, he'd only ever toyed with her, made her scream, or made her.. Make a mess..

"B-But how am I supposed to.. I-I've never made you.." She trailed off, the words burning in her mouth, but she was far to embarrassed to tell him to his face she wanted to know how to make him cum.

"It wouldn't be fair if we weren't both having fun," He whispered even closer, making her shiver and squirm in place. "So you're going to bend over, and I'm going to fuck you."

"Wh-What?!" Naoto wasn't stupid, she was a Shirogane detective for christ's sake, she had questioned why he'd never tried to go the next step, why he'd never.. Bent her over and fucked her. And on those steamy nights alone, she'd fantasized about it, wondered what it was like..

"Your choice. You can leave if you want." His hands slid down her sides to grab her wide hips, pulling her plump, jiggly ass back against his covered cock, straight up showing her that he was ready to rail her, much to her burning hot embarrassment. "Or, you can get on all fours, and I'm going to rail your ass 'till you're squealing."

He was plain, as usual, and she doubted he was much for negotiating his terms right now. The choices were simple. Leave, or let him fuck her from behind. The choice was obvious.

Slowly, on shaky legs and arms, Naoto leaned forward onto all fours on the bed, laying her well endowed chest down low on the bed, and raising her extra meaty, plump ass high up into the air, those tiny booty shorts riding up deep between the valley of her ass, both hefty cheeks wobbling as she got comfortable in her new position.

Looking back over her shoulder, Naoto's pretty face looked more feminine then ever as she gently held the pillow for comfort, her hat hiding one eye as the other looked at him with excitement and worry. And her voice broke the tension in a way that reminded him who she was, so soft and girly.

"P-Please be gentle, S-Senpai..~"

Joker's cock nearly broke passed his belt as all the blood in his body raced to his appendage at once, his cool guy act all but gone and replaced with pure, red hot horny at the sight of that massive fucking ass wobbling like jello on one of the cutest girls he's ever met. How could she expect him to be gentle after that?!

"S-Senpai~!" Naoto squeaked out as she felt the man smack her ass as hard as he could, he heart beating out of her chest as that feeling of pleasure from a spank came back 10 fold. But she wasn't focused on that. No, she was focused on the fat, raging, throbbing, veiny slap of meat that just slapped down on her ass with a weighty thud, the first cock she'd ever seen in person and it looked hard enough to cut glass, and felt like a bat as it slapped down between her warm cheeks.

Th-That was going in her backdoor? It was throbbing and twitching with need, and it looked so huge, thick and long! And it was so hot! Naoto already felt heated and steamy in the young man's bed, her cheeks lightly peppered with beads of sweat, but the warmth between her cheeks now was like an oven with that fat cock squished between them.

And it was squished between them, sandwiched in between those meaty buns like it belonged, the first thing she'd felt him do was press his cock deeper in her newly slippery valley of heat, and now the head of his cock was almost the only thing visible as it poked out passed her cheeks and over her lower back.

Naoto bit her lip to fight back the adorable little noises she threatened to make as she felt her Senpai grab her asscheeks, squishing her globes together like balls of dough, with his veiny cock right in the middle. And finally, she felt her body lightly rock on the bed as he began thrusting his cock between her sweat slicked cheeks.

"Ahaaa~! Senpai~!" She could feel his thrusts grow faster between her cheeks, and she could only think about how her Senpai was using her pillowy butt like an onahole! B-But, she remembered the wager, if she could m-make him cum first, then she'd win!

With a peptalk and hope not a single soul could see her besides the obvious, Naoto braced herself against the bed and did what she'd seen Ann and even Futaba do a number of times before.. With a bounce of her extra wide birthing hips, Naoto started twerking her massive fat ass on her Senpai's c-cock! Each and every twerk of her hips made her ass jiggle and ripple like two massive water balloons, her cheeks clapping against his hips heftily as he let go of her and let her work.

Naoto had never felt this way before, the embarrassment was like a forest fire against her pretty face, and she'd wondered if she ever saw herself doing something so.. so.. Lewd! But, the moment she heard the deep, masculine, pleasured grown of the young man behind her, Naoto felt.. Sexy.. She felt good knowing her extra plump rear was good for something other then ripping open her favorite trousers.. That groan was from her twerking on her Senpai's dick, from her making him feel good, and she just couldn't stop herself from slipping her own hand down the front of her shorts, toying with herself at the feeling of his cock between her sweaty cheeks.

The plapping of her cheeks against his hips echoed in the room as the young man groaned in pleasure, and once more the harsh sound of him smacking her fat ass and her high pitched squeal filled the room instead.

"A-Aaah~! I-It's okay, S-Senpai~! You can c-.. Cum whenever you w-want~!" Naoto tried to sound sexy, anything she could to make him cum early, to win the wager, but one look back at that throbbing beast between her cheeks and the look in his eyes made her realize he wasn't anywhere close to being done.

Suddenly, Naoto felt the man pull his cock free from her her warmth and felt him grab her booty shorts, yanking the poor excuse for pants down around her thighs and down onto the bed below, leaving her extra fat ass bare of all but her tiny blue thong that couldn't hope to hide her jiggly cheeks, let alone the cute little twitching pucker between them.

"W-Wait, S-Senpai-!" Naoto squeaked in ways she didn't wanna think about tonight, her voice high and feminine, pretty and girly, and she sounded so needy it hurt to think about. But what else was she supposed to do when she felt the tip of her Senpai's cock slid up and down her cheeks, pressing lightly against the fabric between his cock and her pink ring, as if taunting her.

"Senpai, pl-please, just-" Naoto pushed her face in deeper to the pillow when she felt him grab her thong and pull it out from between her cheeks, not even taking them off, just pulling the small blue string to the side, catching on her plump cheek. And with two jiggly handfuls, the young man pulled her cheeks apart and once again was greeted with a front row seat of her needy, wet, twitching holes.

"P..Please don't stare Senpai.." Naoto's gasping breaths were quick and uneasy as the gravity of her position finally set in, and she knew her Senpai was looking at at her little backdoor, with his member hard and waiting for it's chance to enter inside of her.

"You're so pretty, Naoto."

It was those simple, quiet words that made Naoto push her face into her pillow in embarrassment, warmth spreading in her chest at the compliment.

"It's why you can't expect me to hold back."

"A-Aaah~!" It was a sudden, warm, wet pressure against her back door that made her clenched eyes shoot open in surprise, the feeling of his broad, throbbing hard tip against her tight little pucker was as pleasurable as it was shocking. There was a slight amount of pain, a feeling of something so big pushing into her that only his tongue and her own fingers had gotten into, but it wasn't unbearable.

Certainly, that didn't stop Naoto from gripping the pillow and sheets as tight as she could as the pressure against her asshole only got stronger, and she felt the warm precum drip out onto her ring of muscle.

He was slow but firm, and just like that, with a wet little plop, Naoto's anal cherry was popped, and her tiny asshole spread and clenched around the tip of her Senpai's cock, feeling bigger then it ever had before.

"S-Senpaiii~!" There was a dull pain that mixed in with radiating warmth and pleasure, and the tip of his cock throbbed and twitched inside of her, completely still as the man stopped his push to slide his hands up from holding her cheeks open, to holding her wide, sultry hips like handle bars. And it was all the break she got before he started right back up again.

"Ha-Haaaa~! S-Senpai~! You're so-!" Deep, that's all she could think of, as inch after inch of thick, throbbing, veiny cock slid passed her stretched little ring and into her warm little asshole, inch after inch filled her and reached places she'd never felt before. There was pain, but it was deeply overshadowed by an intense, blistering hot feeling of pleasure and fullness as he plundered her insides, making sure she couldn't pull away even if she tried by pulling her wide hips back to meet his narrow ones, watching her extra fat ass swallow up his dick hungrily while she made the most adorable noises ever.

And just as she felt like his cock was reaching her very core, making her head spin, it stopped, and she felt her wobbly cheeks meet his with a small clap of flesh on flesh, his balls nuzzled comfortably against her wet, dripping lower lips and reminding her that it wasn't just an endless ladder, and her Senpai was officially balls deep in her rear.

He groaned, and twitched, and throbbed, and she could feel her own hole clenching and squeezing from the new and strange feeling of being absolutely filled. Naoto's eyes were practically rolled up into her head as she pressed her teeth into the pillow in front of her, and that was before the sudden and breathtaking feeling of him slowly pulling his cock back out of her almost sore already asshole.

Every inch leaving made her feel more empty then ever before, not unpleasant, but she had just gotten used to having his cock inside of her, and now he was pulling it out until just the tip was left inside. And then, with her legs quaking under her fat ass, she felt him press his hips forward once again, but gone was his gentle care and slow pace, instead she felt like he was trying to force his dick back inside of her, quicker, harder. Not so fast, but certainly enough to make her, well, scream.

"Aaaaaah~!! S-Senpai~!!" Her high pitched scream was muffled by the pillow in front of her mouth as he once again bottomed out sinde of her ass with another meaty clap of her ass, much louder and harsher then before, not taking a second of hesitation before she was ince again pleasurably tortured by that feeling of him pulling out of her ass inch by inch, just for him to actually pull her wide hips back to meet his hard, firm thrust.

All things considered it was a moderate pace, thrusting his hips forward in long, hard strokes while pulling her fat ass back to meet him halfway, a nice rhythm of her ass clapping heavily back against his pelvis, weighty cheeks rippling and wobbling like two massive waterballoons as he fucked her ass.

For Naoto however, the virgin felt like her asshole was on fire, and she had no idea this was a slow pace. Instead, Naoto's body rocked back and forth on the bed, her much smaller and lighter frame bouncing forward and back to the strong thrusts while she almost lost her mind to feeling of getting fucked like a bitch, face down with her ass raised high for her Senpai.

"H-Hhnnng~!! Hng~!! Hngk~!! Hnnngggk~!!" The pillow between her clenched teeth muffled her squeaks and squeals, her own juices pouring down her thighs as tears formed in her pretty blue-grey eyes. Oh god, she.. She was getting fucked by her Senpai, she was bent over on all fours getting fucked by her Senpai and she could barely remember where she was!

The harsh smack of his hand meeting her meaty bubble butt echoed even louder then the clapping of her cheeks, her globe of pale flesh rippling on impact and wobbling for seconds after as she squealed loudly at the feeling of getting fucked and spanked at the same time.

"Fuck! Your ass is so tight!"

Naoto almost didn't register it, her Senpai's voice was deep and guttural, labored as he pounded her ass like a slow drum, and she could feel herself shiver at the idea.. The idea he was feeling so good from using her hole~

And that's when she felt the young man grab her wrist, yanking it away from sheets and using it like like a handle, yanking her face up and out of the pillow while the other stabilized her rocking body. Of course, that just meant she couldn't hide her bright red, beautiful face in the sheets, or her pretty voice~

"Aaaaaah~!!! Ah~!! Ah~!! Ah~!! S-Senpai~!! Y-You feel s-so-Aaah~!!" She looked back at him, tears of pleasure shining in her eye as her pretty voice chimed so loudly when not muffled, and it was all that the young man needed to snap.

Grabbing her other arm, the young man pulled her entire body back against his hips and her fat ass onto his cock, slamming forward far harder then he had before, catching her completely by surprise as she was suddenly not in control of her own body at all, her arms bound and pulled behind her, and her whole body now at the mercy of her Senpai. The feeling was exciting yet scary, but not nearly as exciting as the sudden strength in his hips, slamming against her bubbly cheeks harder then she thought he could. And she soon realized she knew very little about how rough sex could actually be.

Suddenly her Senpai yanked his cock out of her already abused whole like it was stuck, before jamming his cock into her asshole like it barely fit before, yanking her entire body back to meet his extremely hard thrust before doing it again even faster, and it was this sudden and brutal pace that made Naoto's eyes roll up completely as her tongue hung out of her mouth.

"Senpai~!!! S-Senpai~!!! Ghaaaa~!! Haaaa~!!!" The young man's blistering pace turned her detective brain into a slutty mush as he brutalized her previously virgin asshole, her meaty, wobbly, planetary globes of creamy smooth flesh clapping like a drum so hard and fast it was a wonder if anyone could hear it outside, along with the squeaking bed and her slutty squeals of pleasure.

In the back of her mind she wondered if this was what it was like to be a whore, to be used by a man who wanted nothing more then to watch her fat cheeks jiggle and ripple around his cock while he ripped the screams of pleasure from her throat, just to dump the contents of his balls inside of her. It was the last vestige of her inquisitive mind, but even that soon shattered along with the buttons of her blue shirt, the small bits of plastic popping off as her plump, perky tits sprang free, swinging and bouncing freely beneath her chest as her whole body bounced and rocked back and forth.

Sweat dripped down each and every curve of her body, the heat in her core as sweltering as the heat around her, and it was there that the young man suddenly let go of her arms to grab a fist full of her partly long hair instead, her hat skewing forward on her head to cover her vision partly, rocking, bouncing, and teetering on her head dangerously. It was a wonder it hadn't already fallen off, but she wasn't focused on that, not when the brutal, feral pounding of her asshole made her clench hard around her Senpai's cock, and the moment she felt the man smack her fat cheek harder then it'd ever been smacked before, something inside of her snapped, broke, and suddenly she felt a rushing pleasure overtake her entire body and she saw stars for a few seconds. Not to mention her squeal.

"AAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhh~!!!!!" Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours as her entire body shook and writhed in pure, white hot, mind melting pleasure, and the feeling of her Senpai's cock still slamming in balls deep into her tiny clenching asshole only made it last longer, hit harder, and she could feel something spray across her meaty thighs and make a mess of the bed below her. Drool dripped down her chin and she felt a tear fall down her face as well, and every single fiber of her being was on fire.

And suddenly, it all stopped, and she felt the young man behind her let go of her hair and hips, yank his cock free from her little gaping asshole, and let her fall face down onto the bed, her shock overtaking her for a second as her body screamed out for more! There had to be more! He wasn't done yet right?! He hasn't cum, he can keep going!

Naoto looked back at the man with almost desperate surprise, rising to her hands and knees shakily, looking almost pleadingly at his lubed, throbbing, shining cock before looking up at him.

"S-Senpai, wh-what-?"

"You lost the wager."

What?

"You lost, and now you have to tell the truth."

"I-I don't under-"

"Tell me what you want."

What did she want? What did he mean what did she want?! She wanted to know.. something. She- What did she-? N-No, she wanted-! She wanted-!

"I-I want.. I want.."

"I-I want you to f-fuck my a-ass~!! P-Please Senpai, f-fuck my ass m-more~!!" Naoto needed more~! She felt so empty, shame and embarrassment made her face light up and almost steam, but she couldn't hold back anymore, not when she felt so lightheaded, not when his cock was still so hard~!

The needy detective bit her lip in desperation as she reached back and took both of her creamy globes in her hands, spreading her fat cheeks apart while looking back at her Senpai, panting and gasping while revealing her own tiny, winking, slightly gaped, slippery little backdoor~!

"Please~!! I-I need Senpai's c-cock~!!" She didn't care anymore~! She needed to be fucked again~! She needed that feeling of being filled, she needed to feel him fuck her ass so hard she could barely think~! "Fuck my ass~!!"

All it took was a grab of her wide hips and a slam of his as hard as he could before Naoto felt his balls slap against her dripping cunt, slamming in nuts deep into her needy asshole while her cheeks rippled from the meaty clap~! And Naoto once again made that slutty face she tried to hide, but she kept herself held up, didn't put her face in the pillow~! Her Senpai wanted to hear her, it's why he did it before right~? And she squealed just as loud as she did before~!

"Y-YEESS~!!!" There was no build up, Naoto's entire body rocked as hard as before as her Senpai fucked her fat ass, brutally railing her tiny little pink pucker like a jackhammer, but this time he was met by the slutty sight of the little detective throwing her fat ass back on his cock, bouncing her cheeks back against his hips and making sure every single inch was as deep as could possibly be!

"F-Fuck me~!! Aaaah~!!! Fuck me Senpai~!!" Stars exploded across her vision with every single brutal slam of his hips, and Naoto had the sluttiest look she'd ever had on her face, her eyes rolled up while she squealed happily out for more.

Naoto suddenly felt the young man's weight push harder into his thrusts as he reached forward and began mauling her fat tits, groping and squeezing them so hard she almost winced, from pain and pleasure both at once, and she could only grit her teeth s=to stop herself from screaming so loud it broke the window near them as he pulled and twisted one of her sensitive little nubs~!

"Tell me what you are!!"

What she was~? Naoto could barely remember her name, but she knew what she was, she was a whore~!! She was a nasty, needy whore~! That's what women like her were right~? Women who loved getting fucked up the ass like this were-

"I-I'm a whore~!! I'm a n-nasty whore~!!" Naoto couldn't hold on, she fell forward onto chest and her Senpai followed her down, slamming his cock down hard into her little asshole one last time like a feral beast, ruining her tiny previously virgin tunnel in a prone bone that left the room spinning for the little detective. Leverage worked against her in the best way possible, and her fat ass rippled and wobbled like two massive water beds, both meaty cheeks shining with sweat as he hooked her legs open permanently with his own, making sure she couldn't curl up even if she wanted to. And all she could feel was her Senpai's weight and heat on her body while she was fucked into a squealing puddle.

"You're my whore!! My personal whore!!"

"YES~!! I'm your whore~!!! I'm Senpai's anal whore~!!!" She could do nothing but lay there and take his cock like a whore, it's what she was~!! A whore for cock~!! Cum squirted out of her untouched cunt over and over all over her thighs and the sheets as he slammed in like a jackhammer, she swore she heard something under the bed break as she almost blacked out, screaming so loud she felt her own throat hurt before he finally slammed into her slutty little love tunnel one last fucking time, and she was so suddenly filled with a boiling hot, bubbly sticky heat~!!

"AAAAAHHHHHH~!!!!!" Naoto's entire body tensed as she came harder then she ever had in her life~!! The feeling of being filled, of practically being bred felt so fucking good, she wanted every single last drop inside of her~!! She wanted to be Senpai's cock warmer~!! She wanted him to fill her asshole with his cum every single day~!!!

And suddenly, it stopped, all of it, the pounding, the squealing, the cumming.. And all that was left was her Senpai suddenly flopping down on top of her, his cock still twitching inside of her hole, spurting the last of his seed, and the only noises filling the room was their panting and gasping.

Naoto felt so small under her Senpai, more feminine then she'd ever felt in her life, so warm and full~ She felt.. She didn't know, but it felt right, almost as right as the butterflies that sprung up in her tummy as the young man wrapped his arms around her small waist and held her gently, laying them both to their sides on the bed and pulling her as close as he could against his chest, his face buried in her hair behind her.

She felt so light, and happy~ So.. Sleepy~ Darkness slowly covered her eyes, or were those her eyelids, and she felt her entire body relax against the young man behind her~ And she remembered she was supposed to tel the truth~? Or something~? Well she knew what the truth was~

Sleep finally came for the small detective as she mumbled what was in her mind~

"I love you Senpai~"

Soft snores was the only thing that filled the room now, and the young man wasn't far behind, putting his glasses to the side and shutting off the lights. He'd have to say it back to her tomorrow.

Though he was worried how she'd react when she found out she needed to walk to school the next day wearing what she came over in, with a limp.. And he wondered how Sojiro would react when he saw them both coming down the stairs..

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eldritchlittleblackdragon · 3 years ago

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Me: I’m just going to quietly work on a scene tonight. My Brain: SHARE SHARE SHARE Me: Oh fine then.

(Have some newlywed Barolice, with Alice getting inflicted with thirst brain over a rain-soaked Barok and getting flustered because attraction and what gets someone hot under the collar are very confusing. Warning! Slightly unsafe for work.)

Her hand reached up to temporarily take off and assess the state of her glasses. There were still a few stray droplets on the lenses. Her soaked clothes chilled her to the bone. She was extremely grateful to be inside the safety of the manor now, at least, where it was dry. They would need to get out of their wet clothes soon or risk catching cold. Replacing her glasses, Alice followed her husband up the stairs to the bedroom, going inside ahead when he opened the door for her.

It was such a disappointment that their walk around the grounds was cut short by the sudden onslaught of rain, she thought. She really had been hoping to get more of a feel for the land around the Van Zieks’ country estate. But, it seemed that would have to be a matter for another time.

Alice wasted no time in beginning to undo and remove her clothes. She was not at all self-conscious about the matter, thinking about getting herself into something dry, and warm. That was, until she heard the door close behind her. She heard the soft rustling of Barok divesting himself of some of his own clothing, and instinctively turned towards the noise. He was turned away from her, having already discarded his coat, cravat, vest, and gloves.

“Do you need any help?” she found herself asking without really thinking about it. But before she could add an additional thought, she found the words evaporate as her eyes fell upon him. Even his undermost shirt wasn’t spared from the storm. It wasn’t as thoroughly soaked through as the top layers had been. But it was still wet, enough so that it was translucent and clinging to his form.

The dips and curves of his body revealed themselves in ways that even his more form-fitting attire normally did not.

Water streaked from his hair, running down across his face to the line of his jaw. His skin glistened with moisture. And while his breath was slightly haggard from the run back into the manor, it was even and steady, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm.

The sight not only held her gaze, but caused a sudden wave of heat to rise up through her body. Her heart started to flutter in her chest. He looked positively breathtaking at that moment to her. And images of running her hands along his glistening skin began to dance around in her mind. Tempting, tormenting images.

Wait… why … of all the-?

Her surprise at her own reaction caused her to gasp lightly as she immediately shot her gaze away. What on earth? For goodness’ sake, Alice, your husband is all cold and wet! She attempted to refocus herself as she awaited her husband’s reply, hoping desperately that she could get her mind to be cooperative.

Though it seemed ever since their wedding night, which was a few days ago now, her mind had been anything but cooperative when it came to matters of earthly delights.

“I wouldn’t object to your assistance, my dear,” he replied serenely, “I offer mine in kind, should you require it. But, pray, tell me something, if you would.”

Alice found herself momentarily snapped out of her flustered state, looking back over to her husband with a quizzical expression. “Yes, Barok?”

“What had you so vexed until just an instant ago?”

Oh! And just as she’d thought it’d left her in peace, her previous state returned with a vengeance. Another wave of heat rushed through her, darkening her cheeks with a vibrant blush. The fact there was a certain sort of knowing in his tone made it all worse. And he looked as stoic as ever.

“Oh it’s not … it’s only-” She halted abruptly, considering her words before continuing. “It’s rather silly, really. I just thought for a moment that you looked rather handsome is all. Forgive me.”

Even though you’re rain-soaked. Actually because you’re rain-soaked. She internally sighed at herself.

There was a pause. But then, there was the slightest crack of a smile on Barok’s countenance, and the rise and fall of his chest became quick and erratic as though he were… quietly laughing to himself?

He’s laughing? Alice blinked in confusion. “What’s so funny?”

#alice van zieks #barok van zieks #barok van zieks/oc #tgaa #tgaa oc #lbd writes #citrus #well more citrus-y rather than citrus

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avelera · 4 years ago

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Part 2 of Let’s All Drag Joss Whedon (Finally) - Joss Whedon Doesn’t Accept the Premise (And that’s why he struggles with modern superhero franchises)

Part 1 - “Break the Cutie” aka Whedon’s just writing his fetish over and over and people are just beginning to figure that out

So apparently, Joss Whedon’s take on “The Justice League” was so horrible even WB’s own execs despised it, and we get some hints as to what they hated from the Vanity Fair article, “The robber on the rooftop—so goofy and awful. The Russian family—so useless and pointless. Everyone knew it. It was so awkward because nobody wanted to admit what a piece of shit it was.”

Now, I have a theory as to what went wrong here, and it’s the same thing that went wrong (for me) with Steve Rogers’ plot line in Age of Ultron, and looking back, in Avengers 1. It goes beyond Whedon just not wanting to continue any other creator’s stories (a gripe for another day) into the fact that AoU and even Avengers 1 feel a bit like, well, the movies that people in the Marvel Universe make about the Avengers. Not events that happened to the actual Avengers as seen in their own films.

It’s because when it’s not his own world, Joss Whedon just doesn’t accept the premise of other people’s fantastical worlds.

What do I mean by “accept the premise”? Another phrase could be “suspend disbelief” or “take it seriously” but what it translates to is being willing to accept even a ludicrous scenario as fact and go from there as a writer, arguably the foundations of writing speculative fiction. I can write for you a heart-wrenching story about a clown who is supernaturally stuck in his clown-car if I just accept the premise enough, because once the silliness of the premise is accepted, we can acknowledge it and move on to the seriousness of the character’s suffering and continue from there. Any ludicrous premise can be played straight if you accept the premise.

Young nerds may not remember, but for all the scattered success of late 90′s/early 00′s sci-fi/fantasy/superhero films there were ten times as many ridiculous failures that all felt like they were self-conscious to even be alive much less daring to subject you to a story about wizards or superheroes for goodness sake. It felt as if the creators themselves were embarrassed to be there. This all changed when films like Lord of the Rings, The Dark Knight, and Iron Man 1 stopped cringing away from the fantasy elements and accepted the premise that fantastical things are happening, that there are heroes in rocket suits and bat costumes saving the world and ok, now that we’ve acknowledged this is a departure from normal reality, we can actually deal seriously with the things happening in these world.

Superhero franchises like Marvel haven’t looked back from this decision! Yes our heroes are in costumes, but Captain America isn’t just a boy scout in spandex, he’s a man who suffered and lost more than most people can comprehend in the course of being frozen in ice for 75 years, and in films like “Winter Soldier” we’re going to deal with that immense suffering, the scars it leaves, and what happens when he discovers his best friend has suffered a fate worse than even he has.

Whedon didn’t want to accept Winter Soldier in AoU. Actually, he didn’t want to accept any of the individual character films in his story, he just picks up right off from Avengers 1 with a few scant nods to the intervening canon. In fact, he outright said he wanted the MCU to be loosely connected one-offs where creators like him could all do their own thing without paying attention to each other.

To me it seems obvious that this was in part because Whedon couldn’t accept Winter Soldier (and, IMO, was jealous of it). He couldn’t accept Cap/Steve Rogers being more than a punchline. He’s always making him into this golden retriever, boy scout, whatever. Tony Stark, for all that he gets better treatment as the “cool”, quippy guy of a Joss Whedon story, also has most of his trauma and PTSD dealt with in his own individual films tossed out the window in favor of him, yeah I’m gonna say it, basically bullying everyone with how smart he is the whole film and generally being obnoxious and unbearable.

The only place serious emotion is allowed to live in a Whedon story set in someone else’s world is when he gets to play out his “Nerd Guy and Battered Strong Female Character” love story, which for Avengers he twisted Nat and Bruce Banner into performing for his fetishistic pleasure. A story that made no objective sense for the characters, that at least Scarlett Johansson protested as not making sense for her character (and she was right) and which required absolutely tortured logic for some of the other characters, like Hawkeye suddenly having a family that was never alluded to previously in order to derail the burgeoning (and actor promoted!) love-story between Hawkeye and Black Widow.

Not that I’m bitter or anything.

My point is, I’m not surprised that given modern superhero films are built on accepting the premise of a superhero world where people where spandex but also feel really bad emotions that we’ve gotta take seriously for the story to work, that Whedon’s 90′s comic book era quippy detachment from all this “silly comic stuff” just doesn’t work. It’s great for the occasional humorous scene but it can’t carry a franchise and it clashes with other creators who are taking the characters, premise, and world seriously.

So while everyone is waking up, shocked, to this realization that Titan of Nerd Culture Joss Whedon can’t carry a modern superhero franchise that takes itself seriously, I admit, I’m kind of sitting here going, “You just figured that out??”

#joss whedon #joss whedon critical #mcu meta

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jingabitch · 5 years ago

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Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell - final

SUMMARY: when you were ten, taehyung adopted you and gave you a home. now that you’re eighteen, the sudden change in your scent perplexes and confounds him.

PAIRING: wolf hybrid!tae x human!reader (all bts members are hybrids)

WORD COUNT: 20.5k (lmfao)

RATING: explicit

A/N: yay this massive fic is finally done!! when i first started this i thought it would be like a 15k oneshot and now it’s a g i a n t. thank you to everyone who read this, left lovely comments and feedback, and cheered me on! not quite sure what i’m going to work on next, but nevertheless I hope to have your support for future projects too. :)

also, shoutout to my wonderful betas @knjkitten and @xoxrinaxox for going over this for me! yall are the greatest 💕

btw the last part of this isn’t betaed because google docs sucks and doesn’t sync reliably most of the time lmao. i’ll work on finding a better solution but in the meantime i hope there aren’t glaring mistakes.

series index

“The only recorded cases where a hybrid was able to move on from an imprint… is when the object of the imprint passed away.”

When the object of the imprint passed away.

You blinked at Namjoon in shock, unsure how to react. You certainly hadn’t been expecting such an extreme solution, and you hesitated audibly.

“Not that I’m suggesting that, of course,” he hastily reassured you. You nodded slowly, your mind still playing catch up. “We’ll figure out another way to manage it, all right? Don’t do anything crazy.”

“Okay.” You agreed, nodding robotically. It felt like your mind had short-circuited when he said that. You didn’t want to die. After all that had happened to you, you just wanted to live normally, safe and secure in your home.

Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about what Namjoon had said. Spring turned to summer, and then to fall, and it almost seemed as though you could forget about it entirely. Things were going well at home – you and Taehyung had settled into a new routine that was, if not ideal, comfortable enough, and you thought that he was coping fairly well with the imprint.

Now that everything was out in the open, it felt like an oppressive air had been lifted from the apartment. You understood now why Taehyung had done that to you, and while you still weren’t thrilled, at least you knew why. He was relentless in his attempts to show you his remorse, too, doting over you almost obsessively.

Gradually, you eased up around him, too. He was always respectful of your need for space. After the first night where you stayed in his room, you’d returned to your own room to think about how you wanted to proceed. All his cards were on the table now, and it was only fair that you figure yourself out. You still weren’t really comfortable being as close to him physically as you’d been before, and you were definitely leery of any sexual contact, both because of your traumatic experiences on the street as well as because of what Taehyung had done.

He handled your attempts to put more distance between the two of you with grace. You didn’t quite know whether he’d hoped to pick up where you’d left off, but you weren’t ready or willing to do that, and he didn’t push. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t acutely aware of the way his eyes would follow you around sometimes, almost predatorily, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Sometimes you could hear him sigh when you went into your own bedroom at night instead of his.

Still, he never made a move, and you understood probably better than anyone else that having an urge and acting on it were two different things. He couldn’t help the way he looked at you, wanted you, but he held it in as best he could to avoid making you uncomfortable. You saw, and you appreciated his effort. Even though he probably didn’t see it, you were trying too, to move past everything that had happened.

For Taehyung, though, this was like purgatory. Having you so close, just out of reach, unable to touch you, was driving him insane. It hadn’t been so bad at first, because his wolf could sense the sour notes of your fear and reacted accordingly, wanting to provide for you and comfort you. It was difficult maintaining his distance even then, of course, since his instincts demanded that he wrap himself around you to keep you warm and protect you from any threats. His wolf had never been the smartest, of course, failing to realize that it was Taehyung who was the threat.

As you started to ease up around him, though, was when the trouble truly began. When you looked at him and smiled, or didn’t flinch away when he accidentally touched you… every sign that you were finally starting to let your guard down around him, no matter how insignificant it seemed, was a win for Taehyung. He celebrated internally every time he noted a milestone, charting your progress silently. The unpleasant scent of your discomfort was slowly replaced by your natural, happy, fruity scent, the one his wolf found so alluring. Which, of course, meant that he was having a hard time keeping his instincts at bay.

If this was what the rest of his life was going to be like, it was going to be torture. He could handle it, though. He was determined to, for your sake – he would grit his teeth and bear anything you threw at him. He would not, under any circumstances, let his imprint ruin his relationship with you more than it already had.

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

Last year, when you were still happy and carefree, you’d noticed immediately when Taehyung went into pre-heat. It had been clear as day to you when you were attuned to him and paying attention – the increased neediness, the voracious appetite, how moody he had been. You’d broken up so many silly arguments between him and the boys, picked purely because Taehyung was in a bad mood.

This year, however, was different. Even though you’d started getting better with time, and Taehyung’s conscientious, careful treatment of you, it was clear you were still affected by your time on the streets. You sometimes avoided Taehyung’s gaze, ate as quickly as you could because you still remembered what it was like to be hungry, and slipped away from the table as soon as you were done with your meal. It was still difficult for you to sit quietly with Taehyung, since it required a level of comfort with him that you hadn’t managed to get back.

Even when you were with him, you were hunched over on yourself, cautious, trying not to do or say anything to anger him. Even though he’d explained why he’d kicked you out and took pains to assure you that it would never happen again, you couldn’t forget the memory of him grabbing your arm and dragging you out of his apartment, throwing you out like garbage. It made sitting with him a far more difficult and uncomfortable endeavor than it had been in the past.

When Taehyung started going into preheat, the boys were on tour, which meant you were too. It was an East Asian tour – a short one, just six weeks, kind of a warm up before the global tour that was going to start next spring. The tour had been, to say the least, stressful. Before, they’d been great fun. Who wouldn’t love the opportunity to travel around the world, getting to eat different things and be spoiled by the boys and their entire crew? While everyone had to work, your life had basically been one giant vacation.

Now, though, things were different. As awkward as you felt around Taehyung, you’d had to act normally in front of all the cameras that were perennially trained on you. That meant giggling, smiling, cuddling up to all the boys, especially Taehyung, and never letting your guard down. Because of the boys’ social media presence, even the hotel rooms weren’t always safe, and it had been exhausting.

Taehyung was equally stressed out, trying to act nonchalant in front of the cameras when you clung onto him and plopped yourself into his lap for cuddles every day the way you used to. He quickly became an expert at shifting you around to avoid making you uncomfortable when his body reacted instinctively, and on not overreacting to your proximity. No stiffening (ha), no sharp inhales, or wide eyes, or anything else that would tip off the fans, who were basically detectives.

Knowing his heat was coming didn’t make dealing with the symptoms of it as it approached easier. This was already shaping up to be the worst heat he’d ever had, and it hadn’t even started yet. His increased sensitivity to scent made it all the more difficult to pretend like he wasn’t affected by you, and as the tour dragged on (and his preheat symptoms intensified) he could also see you withdrawing, the stress of pretending like everything okay evidently too much for you.

When the tour finally ended and you were back at your apartment, you immediately made a beeline for your bedroom and shut the door after you, desperate for time to yourself after spending weeks on end surrounded by the boys. Humans didn’t get their own hotel rooms, after all. It just wasn’t in the budget.

You’d think that spending so much time basically glued to his side would have made it easy for you to realise that he was going into heat, but that wasn’t the case at all. The more time you spent without a break with him and everyone in the crew having to keep up the act, the more it took out of you, until you were barely able to take in anything from being so stressed out all the time. Being so occupied with controlling your own reactions to being so close to Taehyung meant that all your attention was focused on yourself, instead of on your surroundings, and the fact that he was acting weird barely blipped on your radar.

Taehyung looked sadly at the closed door separating the two of you and sighed. Even though things had slowly started to improve, you were still clearly holding yourself away from him, and as much as he understood why and wanted to respect your need for space, his impending heat was making things difficult, bringing his animal side to the forefront and making it harder for him to resist his impulses.

As embarrassing as it was, he steeled himself to have an awkward conversation with you about it tomorrow morning. It was, somewhat surprisingly, the first time he’d ever had to tell you that he was going into heat. In the earlier years that you’d been his pet, all the boys had worked together to keep you from being too exposed to that aspect of their unique biology, and the only difference you noted during his heat was that Taehyung spent a lot of time shut in his own room while the other boys took turns playing with you.

Later on, you figured out fairly quickly what was up, and cottoned on to the symptoms that his heat was approaching easily. By the time you were fifteen, you had established a comfortable pattern and he’d never had to explain to you in words that his heat was coming – you just always knew, based on how differently he acted and the time of year.

It was almost tempting to go back to the way they’d dealt with his heats when you were a child – pawning you off onto his brothers and struggling through it alone without having to have an overly intimate conversation was probably the last painful option. In light of last year’s disastrous heat, though, he figured it was only fair that he let you know what was going on.

He scrubbed his hands down his face with a groan. Why had things gotten so complicated? All he’d wanted had been some companionship, and now there was this huge problem staring the both of you in the face that no one had asked for. Not for the first time since finding out about the imprint, he wished that he hadn’t been born a hybrid.

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

You woke up in the morning in your own bed, relieved to be back in your own space after having to share a hotel room with Taehyung for six weeks straight. You hadn’t shared his bedroom since that night, months ago, when he told you everything, and he never pushed, a fact for which you were grateful.

Still, morning meant you had to get up and prepare breakfast, since Taehyung was all but useless until noon. Feeling rejuvenated from the best night of sleep you’d had in weeks, you pushed the covers away and headed for the bathroom. You’d established a new morning routine with Taehyung now that you weren’t sleeping in the same room anymore, that gave you a little more space in the mornings. You’d use the bathroom and prepare breakfast while he got ready, then he’d eat while you got ready.

Today, however, was different. You’d placed his breakfast on the counter and were going back to your room to get your clothes when Taehyung cleared his throat.

You stopped short right as you were about to round the counter and leave the kitchen, your eyes darting towards Taehyung. Had he made that noise on purpose or was he doing that stupid sleepy grunting thing he did when he didn’t feel like getting up?

He stared back at you, and you couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. Damn. So he’d made the noise on purpose then to get your attention, then.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.”

That sounded serious. You moved back to where you were so that you were standing directly across the counter from him. “What is it?” you asked curiously.

Cue some more awkward throat-clearing and avoiding eye contact.

“Uhhh… you know it’s autumn now, right?” Taehyung started.

You raised your brow. “Uh, yes…?” Did he just want to talk to you about the weather? That seemed very unlike him, especially this early in the morning.

“So… winter is coming soon?”

“Yes… that is what autumn usually means.” You didn’t mean to get snippy with him, but his wishy-washy attitude was starting to grate on your nerves.

“Right, so, um… I’m going into heat…?” Taehyung mumbled his words directly into his plate, his shoulders hunched over as he cringed, not quite daring to look up and see your expression.

Your mind was racing, panic threatening to overwhelm you when you remembered what had happened during his last heat. You’d almost lost control then and let him have his way with you, and it was what had started this whole thing anyway. As you were freaking out, your heart rate picked up rapidly, and Taehyung could hear it even if he wasn’t looking at you.

“Hey, whoa, what’s happening?” Taehyung asked, holding his hands out placatingly. You took a deep breath and refocused on him.

“Are you okay?” his brow furrowed as he watched an array of emotions cross your face in quick succession.

“Yeah,” you said, though your voice was a little choked. “I’m fine. What do you want to do about your heat?” you asked, trying to calm your racing heart. Wild panic was definitely not the best way to go here.

Still eyeing you suspiciously, Taehyung told you, “Well, I’m sure Suga-hyung wouldn’t mind it if you stayed with him for a week or so…”

The suggestion was so unexpected that it completely wiped out your distress, replacing it with shock instead. You gaped at him, unable to find the words to ask him the question you wanted to ask.

Thankfully, despite everything that had happened between you Taehyung was still fairly good at reading you, and he hurried to reassure you. “Oh, don’t worry about all of that,” he said, referring to the imprint and the fact that during his last heat he’d basically gone feral for you. “I’m sure it won’t be too bad.”

You could see on his face though that even he didn’t believe his own words. Even though you appreciated his attempt to smile and muscle through it for you, you couldn’t help but remember how miserable and out of it he’d been during his last heat when you refused him, and your heart squeezed at the thought of him going through it again.

Seeing your clear doubt, Taehyung smiled at you, though it was a little strained and didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I- I’m not,” you immediately denied, your voice shaky and unconvincing.

“Okay,” Taehyung accepted easily, not believing you for a second. “Go get ready.”

You hesitated then. “Actually… I think I might stay home today.”

“Oh… okay,” Taehyung said, this time slightly dejectedly.

“I just started a new book,” you offered, a lame excuse to try and spare his feelings. He nodded, acknowledging your effort, but it was clear the conversation was over.

“Well… have a good day at work then,” you said, before escaping back into your room.

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

As much as you wished you could say you’d taken on the role of martyr quickly and decisively, the truth couldn’t be any more different. It took days of agonizing over the decision, days in which you stayed mostly alone in your room, pacing up and down despite Taehyung’s repeated pleas from right outside your door to come out and tell him what was bothering you.

You ignored him, knowing there was no way you could tell him. You didn’t know if Namjoon had told Taehyung about the rather radical solution that he’d found to the imprint, but you didn’t want to hear anything Taehyung said about it. The best case scenario would be that he told you insincerely that he didn’t want you to do anything rash, that he could live with it, even though you could see in his eyes and every fiber of his being that he just wanted to be free of the imprint. The worst-case scenario… you shuddered to think about it.

No, this was a decision you had to make alone.

On the one hand, you really didn’t want to die. After everything you’d already been through, why did you have to make the ultimate sacrifice for Taehyung? The injustice made you want to scream in anger at the sky, roll around and pound your fists against the ground. You’d never asked for any of this. All you’d ever wanted was to be a good pet, to love and be loved by your owner.

Then again – Taehyung hadn’t asked for any of it either. He’d gone into all of this with the same hopes as you, just wanting companionship and a cute pet. Instead he’d gotten arguably the short end of the stick, far more affected by the imprint than you were. After all he’d given you over the past nine years, was this the best way you could pay him back? By setting him free?

Even if you stayed alive, what kind of life would this be? Stuck in this uncomfortable situation without any way out, living indefinitely with Taehyung? It was torture for the both of you. Even though he tried to hide it, to show you a brave, unaffected face, and never made you feel bad about anything, you knew he was suffering. You could feel the way his eyes sometimes followed you around hungrily, even if he himself was unaware of the way he was looking at you. During the tour, whenever you’d glomp him in front of the cameras to play the role of an adoring pet human, you could feel him stiffen ever so slightly and hold his breath to avoid inhaling your scent. Was this really the way you wanted to spend the rest of your life, pretending to be a devoted and adorable pet when neither of you enjoyed it?

You’d never felt so trapped before. There were no other options for you – you were too old to be adopted again since everyone wanted babies, and in any case, you were sure Taehyung wouldn’t let you go. Having you somewhere in the world but away from him would be torturous for him given the nature of the imprint, and even in your darkest moments, when you resented him and wanted him to suffer the way you had and were continuing to, you wouldn’t wish that on him.

Why were your only options staying put or death? The unfairness of it all, the feeling that you’d been wronged by the universe, twisted your insides. You wanted to cry, but you’d cried so much over the past few days that your eyes hurt and you didn’t think you had any more tears in you.

The worst part was that you knew this was difficult for Taehyung too. He’d barely left the apartment in the days since his announcement, when he came back from the studio on the first day and found you in your room. Despite your best attempts to cry quietly, his keen hybrid ears picked up the sounds of your muffled sobs and sniffles and he’d been camped outside your bedroom door ever since, begging you to let him in, to tell him what was going on and let him help you.

His heartfelt pleas tore at your heart, and you found yourself sitting on the ground with your back against the door to be close to him even though you needed to be alone, in the same position you’d found yourself in almost a year ago – Taehyung begging to be let in, and you in tears as you refused, for his own good. The irony was not lost on you.

Ultimately, though, you knew the choice had always been clear. Between setting the both of you free and staying trapped in this purgatory, you’d always choose the former.

It didn’t make going through with it any easier, though. Even though you knew rationally that this was the best option, your instincts urged you to cling to life. You could always go back to the streets, hitch a ride out of Seoul and try to eke out an existence by yourself in the countryside. You knew how to grow fruits and vegetables from living with Taehyung’s parents, and you wouldn’t starve. As you lay in bed on what you’d decided would be the last night of your life, you allowed yourself the comfort of dreaming about what such a life might be like. One where you didn’t need to worry about where your next meal was going to come from, or pleasing someone else, where you could live independently, just you and your little garden.

You fell into a restless sleep that night, the tears you’d thought you didn’t have any more streaking your face.

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

When you opened your bedroom door the next morning, Taehyung, who’d been leaning against the door while he slept, fell backwards into your room. He jolted awake before he hit the floor and managed to catch himself, leaving you impressed, as always, with his superior hybrid reflexes.

“Good morning,” you murmured as he blinked up at you sluggishly.

“Y/n…” he said softly, his mind still foggy from sleep. “Good morning,” he replied reflexively.

“Did you stay out here all night?” you asked, squatting to bring your face closer to his.

He cleared his throat and nodded, and your heart squeezed from how cute he was when he’d just woken up. You wished you’d gotten to see more of it, and maybe in a different world, you’d have gotten a shot at a happy ending. Thinking about it too much kind of made you want to cry, so you started to stand up to go brush your teeth.

Quick as a dart, his hand snaked out to capture yours, and you looked down at him in surprise. He rarely initiated physical contact anymore, after learning about your trauma, but since he was still half-asleep, old habits came back to the surface. “What is it, Taehyung-oppa?” you asked, kneeling back down.

“I have to go to the studio today,” he rasped in his deep, early morning voice. You suppressed a shiver – as difficult as you found it to be around him sometimes, your body had never forgotten the initial attraction you’d had towards him a year ago, and when he was sleepy and pliant like this he almost seemed like a different person from the cruel man who’d forced you onto the streets.

“Okay,” you accepted easily. In truth, you didn’t understand why he was telling you this – you knew he had to go in. They were already preparing for the world tour next spring, and you were surprised that he’d spent the last two days camped outside your bedroom door when he should really be at work with the rest of the boys. “I’ll go get your breakfast ready,” you said, looking pointedly down at your hand still enveloped in his. He needed to let go if you were going to help him get ready.

“Wait,” he said, blinking the last of the sleep out of his eyes. Yesterday Namjoon had called him to ream him out for not turning up for practice for two days in a row, and even though he’d been understanding about the whole situation with you, knowing that Taehyung was always worried about you now, he’d still told Taehyung in no uncertain terms that he couldn’t just shirk his responsibilities to his bandmates and fans like he’d been doing for the past few days. Taehyung had wanted to stay home with you because you were so clearly upset about something, but he’d been neglecting his duties at work long enough.

“I- I know you’re upset about something,” Taehyung began haltingly. He didn’t know exactly what it was, since you’d refused to tell him, but since it had started right after he told you about his heat, he could pretty much guess that it was related to that. Approaching it, however, was difficult since he didn’t know how to go about it tactfully, especially in the mornings, since it took so damn long for him to get his act together. He really should have written this down last night.

“Y/n…” He stopped, swallowed, then started again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

That caught your attention, and you froze, staring at him with wide eyes.

“I know you hate this imprint,” he choked out, and the words felt like sand leaving his mouth because of how difficult it was to express thoughts that went so directly against his instincts. “I don’t like it either, and I promise you that I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, okay? You’re safe here.” Even though he meant well and was trying to reassure you, his admission that he didn’t want the imprint either made you all the more certain of your decision.

“I understand,” you said, reaching out to pet his ears soothingly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” he accepted. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? Promise. Even if it’s about the imprint.” His gaze searched yours imploringly, like he didn’t quite know how to reassure you of his sincerity.

“I know,” you agreed. You really didn’t agree with that, but you’d say anything to get that hangdog expression off his face.

He stared at you for a couple more seconds, then let you go with a nod. “All right, then,” he said, looking slightly embarrassed as you fled to the bathroom.

You blinked back tears as you made his breakfast for the last time, feeling Taehyung’s gaze boring into the back of your head from where he sat at the counter waiting for you to finish. He was still worried about you, you knew, though he wouldn’t pry anymore since you’d shut him down. You both loved and hated him for that.

When you set his plate down in front of him, you tried not to look at him because you were barely keeping it together as it was. Then you realized that this was probably the last time you would have the opportunity to and swung your gaze from the countertop to his face, taking it all in greedily.

Taehyung was still looking at you, and when you looked back, your eyes met, which you were completely unprepared for. Your jaw dropped slightly in surprise as he stared intently at you, and in that moment, you felt stripped bare for him, like he was looking effortlessly into your soul. It was too much for you, and you averted your gaze out of embarrassment, hating how vulnerable he could make you feel. Before, you hadn’t minded it, had thought it was a sign of your affection and trust for each other, but after your security in this home had been stripped away, it just scared you.

“Do you want to come with me to the studio today?” Taehyung asked. He was still watching you with that unsettling, piercing gaze, and you shook your head without looking back at him.

“Are you sure, Y/n-ie?” Something was off, Taehyung could feel it, and his instincts were ordering him to keep you by his side. Imprinting wasn’t magic, but it meant he was always hyper-attuned to you. With his hybrid senses, he could hear the erratic beating of your heart, smell the salt of the tears you tried so hard to keep at bay, see the distress written clearly across your face. There was clearly something bothering you, and it killed him to know that he was the cause of it and that he’d ruined the trust between the two of you so much that you were too afraid to talk to him about it. He’d always been there for you, and the fact that you weren’t letting him in now cut him up inside.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile as you looked back at him.

His brow furrowed in concern. “Okay, I’ll call Namjoon and tell him that I can’t come in today either then.” He reached for his phone, sitting next to his plate on the counter.

“What? No,” you protested, snatching the phone before he could grab it. “You need to go to work; I know Namjoon-oppa will be mad if you skip again.”

Taehyung’s frown deepened. “I don’t want to leave you alone when you’re like this,” he objected.

“Tae-oppa, I’m fine. Please just go to work,” you begged, using the old nickname you had for him for good measure. You hadn’t called him that since before he kicked you out, and you could see him softening in front of you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at you – not that he needed it, with his enhanced wolf vision.

“Yeah.” You nodded, smiling tremulously at him.

“Okay. I’ll see you when I get home then.” Taehyung got up and got ready to leave, and you followed him to the front door. As he was putting his coat on, you sidled up to him and wrapped your arms around him in a hug, the first one you’d voluntarily given him since he’d found you at Hangang Park.

“What’s all this?” he asked, bemused, even as his arms wrapped around you. His wolf just couldn’t resist, and you were so cute, nuzzling into the hollow between his collarbones like you were scenting him. Humming with pleasure, he dropped his head to the top of yours, sniffing your hair.

“Nothing,” you said, your voice slightly muffled. You pulled back a little so you could look up at him, and for a second, your faces were so close that he could have just dipped his head slightly to kiss you. The temptation was overwhelming, especially since you’d initiated the hug, but Taehyung held it together – just barely. You squeezed him a little tighter and it took everything in him to stay still, praying that you wouldn’t notice the erection starting to form in his pants.

Obviously, you did notice it, since it was pressed into your belly, but you graciously ignored it, knowing that he couldn’t help it. Knowledge of your impending mortality made such things seem less significant, anyway.

When you finally released him and took a step back, he blinked for a moment, slightly bereft. Without your warmth pressed against him he felt a little cold, even though he knew it was ridiculous. Still, he had to leave, so he brushed your hair behind your shoulder fondly and asked, “Are you sure you’ll be okay at home?” one last time.

“Yes,” you stressed, pushing him gently out the door. “I’ll be fine, I promise, Tae-oppa.” He still looked a little dubious, but you’d distracted him by calling him that again, and he left with a small smile on his face.

With the door firmly shut behind Taehyung, you leaned against it and sank onto the ground. Just getting him out of the house had been exhausting, and you didn’t know if you actually had the strength to end your own life. Your breath shuddered out of your lungs and you tipped your head back against the door.

Even though you were now alone, you were afraid to give in to your emotions because you didn’t know if you would have the courage to go through with it if you let the fear take over. Instead, you mechanically got on with your morning routine, washing the dishes and tidying up. You avoided the bathroom because you knew what was there.

Since Taehyung had been having trouble sleeping without you in his bed, he’d gotten a prescription for sleeping pills which he kept in the bathroom cabinet. He didn’t use them all the time, you knew, just the nights that were particularly bad. If you thought hard enough, it would be easy to connect the times when he couldn’t sleep to your ovulation cycle, but you were determined to ignore that.

It wasn’t until hours later that you opened the bathroom cabinet and found the pills. You reached into the cabinet, your hands trembling, and closed your fingers around the small bottle. Your legs wouldn’t work properly when you went back to your room and shut the door, and it felt like every muscle in your body was already stiff.

Looking down at the bottle in your palm, you bit your lip to prevent tears from leaking out again. You rolled the container back and forth a little, looking at the sticker with Taehyung’s name on it. The recommended dose was half a pill to one.

Breathing out heavily, you steeled yourself to open the bottle, but you couldn’t do it. With a sigh, you placed it down on your bedside table, staring at it. The little orange bottle with a white cap sat innocently where you’d left it, like it was mocking you.

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

Something had been off all day, Taehyung could feel it. Obviously, there was no supernatural aspect to the imprint, but he’d been living with you for almost ten years now, and you weren’t as good at hiding your emotions as you thought you were. Worrying about you consumed almost all of his focus, and he was a complete mess during dance practice – even Namjoon was doing better than he was.

After the third time Hoseok had stopped practice to yell at him, Namjoon intervened, taking Taehyung aside to talk to him in the hallway.

“Tae, what’s been going on with you recently? You skip out on practice for two days, and now it’s like you’re not even here when you are.”

Taehyung shrugged, averting eye contact. He was ashamed of how he was acting, because he knew it was stressing his brothers out too when they were already freaking out over the comeback tour, but he just couldn’t get you out of his mind. “I’m sorry, hyung. Y/n’s been acting a little strange recently, and I’m just worried about leaving her alone,” he explained.

Namjoon’s expression softened. “Do you need to talk about it?” he offered.

“I don’t know. She’s been acting a little strange since the tour ended, and after I told her that my heat is coming up…” he blushed. Hybrids weren’t shy when talking about their heats – it was a normal bodily function for them, after all – but since Taehyung had the imprint, any mention of the heat implied that he couldn’t stop thinking about the way his pet human smelled and tasted. Even though he was coming to accept that the imprint, and by extension, his desires, were not his fault, it was still awkward and embarrassing for him to talk about it. He hadn’t told anyone about it other than you, so only Namjoon knew.

“Yeah? What’s been going on? Maybe she’s just stressed out about it,” Namjoon tried to reassure his brother. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know…” Taehyung pursed his lips in thought. “She spent the last couple of days locked up in her room and I kept hearing her crying. She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, though.”

Namjoon was starting to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. Was this related to the conversation he’d had with you so many months ago?

“And she was really weird today, too. You know she gave me a hug?” Try as he might, Taehyung couldn’t stop the dreamy note from entering his voice. As uncharacteristic as it had been for you, he’d missed your physical affection so much that he couldn’t bring himself to complain about it.

“That sounds nice. Why are you worried then?” Namjoon prompted.

“I don’t know. She just seemed really upset even though she was trying to hide it.” Taehyung frowned. “I even offered to stay home again to keep her company, but she basically forced me to leave the house.”

His jaw tightening, Namjoon’s mind raced. “You should go back to check on her if you’re worried,” he told Taehyung.

“What? But practice and everything, I can’t just abandon you guys-” he protested.

“Please, as if you’re helping us out in your current state.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Go, I’ll cover for you with the others.”

“Okay. Thank you, hyung,” he said gratefully before running down the hall to the elevator.

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

You picked up the bottle again, shaking it a little and hearing the noise as the pills rattled against the container. “Okay, now or never,” you psyched yourself up with a deep breath. Of course, you’d rather it be never, but you pushed that thought out of your mind. This was for Taehyung, you reminded yourself.

The bottle cap had a child lock on it, which was truly ridiculous when you stopped to think about it, because adult humans were definitely more able to open a stupid bottle cap than a hybrid child was. If they were going to restrict access to prescription medication, a human-proof lock would be better.

Then again, you mused sardonically, most humans were smart enough to know not to break into medicine cabinets and eat whatever they saw, so it was probably seen as redundant.

Opening the bottle easily, you turned it over and emptied the contents into your hand. You dropped the bottle onto the covers next to where you were sitting and reached for the glass of water you’d prepared on your nightstand. Your hand trembled so much, though, that you had to work extra hard to get a good grip on the glass, and even then, you spilled a bit on the bed.

Slowly, you unclenched your hand and stared at the pills. Closing your eyes, you tossed them all into your mouth, then brought the glass of water to your lips. Come on, you thought to yourself. It would all be over soon – all the suffering that you’d experienced in the last year. Just a couple of minutes, and you would slip into blissful sleep. No more nightmares, no more trauma…

Now that you’d decided on this path, the knowledge that you wouldn’t need to continue living such a painful existence was almost a relief to you. Finally, you tipped the glass a little so water filled your mouth and swallowed. You finished the water before setting the glass back on the bedside table, then stretched out so you were lying on your side, facing the door.

Although it was too soon to feel the effects of the sleeping pills, you felt an incredible wave of peace wash over you, and you closed your eyes. Soon, all of this would be over. You’d be free, setting down all your burdens.

Right before you faded out of consciousness, you vaguely registered your phone vibrating against the bedside table, but your eyelids were too heavy to lift, and it felt impossible to raise your hand to pick it up to see who was calling.

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

The sense of dread and discomfort Taehyung felt brewing in the pit of his stomach only intensified as he drove back home, and by the time he parked his car, the unease bordered on panic. He’d been attempting to call you the whole time, but you hadn’t picked up, which was strange for you – you’d not been far from your phone ever since you’d gotten your first. It was just lucky that he hadn’t been pulled over or gotten into an accident from how poorly he’d been driving, his gaze constantly flicking from the road to his phone.

He raced up to his apartment as quickly as possible, bursting through the door like a madman. Every second felt like life or death, and he’d almost broken the elevator buttons from pressing on it so hard so many times. “Y/n?” he called, his voice echoing through the apartment the moment he stepped through the door.

There was no response to break the ominous silence, only the deafening sound of his heart pounding in his ears. Kicking off his shoes, Taehyung walked quickly through the corridor, peeking into the kitchen and living room as he passed them to make sure you weren’t in either of those rooms.

“Y/n?” he called again, his voice starting to sound slightly manic. He hoped more than anything that you would appear from around the corner and laugh at him for getting so worked up over nothing, but there was no sound or movement. Your bedroom door was shut, so he knew you hadn’t left the apartment, because you never shut it after you.

Stopping in front of your room, he knocked on the door. “Y/n, are you there? Can you let me in, please?”

Silence.

“Y/n?” He knocked again, a little more insistently.

When there was still no response, he opened the door hesitantly and peeked in. “Y/n?” When he saw you lying on your bed, he relaxed for a moment, thinking that you were just taking a nap. In fact, you looked so peaceful like that, with all the lines in your face from that tense expression you always wore around him smoothed out.

He stepped into the room and realized only then that something was wrong. You were breathing too slowly, and your heart rate was sluggish. Looking closer, he saw the empty pill bottle lying on its side next to you and his panic rocketed through the roof.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, rushing to you. “Y/n? Y/n!” he tried to shake you awake, to no avail.

“Shit,” he hissed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to prop you up. Your head lolled listlessly. “Y/n, please,” he begged, tears pricking at his eyes that he tried to blink away. He had to keep it together, or you wouldn’t make it.

Setting you back down on the bed, he called the ambulance hotline. The moment he heard the click that meant someone had picked up, he started explaining what had happened, the words spilling out of him in his urgency. “My human, she’s swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills, I don’t know what to do, I—” His voice broke on a sob.

“Sir? Please remain calm. I’ll send an ambulance; can you provide your address?” The person manning the hotline’s soothing voice helped Taehyung, and he took a deep breath as he told her the address.

“An ambulance will be there ASAP. In the meantime, it would be helpful if you could induce vomiting to start removing the drug from her system.”

Taehyung tossed his phone onto the covers and pushed his sleeves past his elbows. “Induce vomiting…” he muttered to himself, his hands hovering uncertainly over your face. “Uhhh…”

Gingerly, he slid one hand under your neck to hold your head off the mattress slightly and winced as he stuck two fingers in your mouth, gently probing at the opening of your throat. No response.

“Fuck, come on…” he said, voice strained as he pushed a little harder and felt you gag. Encouraged, he did it again, and it felt like your whole body convulsed as you started throwing up.

“Gross,” he cried, unable to retract his hand fast enough. He tilted your head so you didn’t choke on your own vomit, and it fell onto the floor instead. He wrinkled his nose – the smell was awful, especially to his enhanced hybrid senses – but he could see the pills lying among the mess, and he sagged in relief, bracing his arms against the bed on either side of your prone form as he bowed his head, his forehead just barely touching your stomach.

And then the paramedics arrived, and everything was a blur of motion that Taehyung could barely keep up with. You were lifted onto a stretcher and someone was wiping off his hand, then he was following the paramedics out while answering their questions about you. Turns out, he didn’t know a lot about what you’d been doing before you decided to do this.

On the way to the hospital, he sat in the ambulance clutching your hand, hovering anxiously above you and watching your face for any sign of discomfort or pain. There was none, of course. You were still out cold, but watching you made him feel useful, and reassured him that you were still breathing and okay. His wolf was frantic, and it was difficult to keep his baser instincts under wraps when his control was so frayed by his emotional state, but he had to, for your sake.

It became almost a mantra for him during the traumatic hours when they wheeled you off into the hospital, pumped your stomach and gave you other drugs to get the sleeping pills out of your system. He reminded himself sternly that he could not give in to his animal instincts, rip into the doctors and nurses who were causing you pain and growl at everyone to leave you the fuck alone. It had been easier staying in control of his animal side when there was a task at hand that he needed to focus on to help you, but now that there was nothing to do but sit around, he felt like he was going crazy, the two sides of his psyche at war with each other.

He sat in the corridor right outside the room you were in, listening to the sounds coming from within: the beeping, the yelling from the doctor and nurses as they tried to save your life, and worst of all, the revolting sounds that came with you having your stomach pumped. You regained consciousness briefly during that time, and your cries of distress and pain were agonizing to listen to. Unaware that there was nothing he could do, his wolf side snarled and begged for him to help, to snatch you away from the people who were torturing you. He bowed his head, sat on his hands and cried along with you.

It wasn’t until you were safely in your own room in the hospital, cleaned up and asleep in your bed with an IV drip in, that Taehyung could finally relax, knowing you would be all right. He texted Namjoon to tell him what had happened, then just sat with you, waiting for you to wake up.

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

The room was dark, you noted sluggishly. The door was open, and some light spilled in from the hallway, but the ceiling was barely lit with a dim yellow. It was kind of soothing, you thought as your eyes slid shut again. Everything felt heavy and ached, so you didn’t bother trying to move. It was easier to just go back to sleep.

The next time you woke up, the room was bright again, and when you tried to lift your hand to your face to block out the light, you found that you couldn’t. This was concerning until you turned to see Taehyung, slumped on the bed with his cheek resting against your hand.

You wriggled your fingers a little, just to check that you still could, and the motion woke him up. He blinked slowly, his vision blurry for a second, until he realized where he was and jolted upright. It was probably the fastest you’d ever seen him wake up, and you wanted to make a dig at his expense about it, but when you tried to speak, you realized how dry your throat was.

“Water,” you croaked, and Taehyung leapt to do your bidding, bringing you a paper cup filled with water. You reached out to take the cup from him, but he refused to hand it over, helping you sit up with one arm while feeding you the water with the other. When the cool liquid touched your lips, you sucked it down eagerly, unaware until that moment how very thirsty you actually were.

“Slowly,” Taehyung cautioned. Ignoring him, you drained the cup and asked for more.

When you’d had three whole cups of water, he helped you find the remote control for the bed so that you could sit up comfortably. The blanket pooled around your hips and Taehyung continued fussing over you, making sure you were comfortable.

“I’m fine, oppa,” you said, batting his hands away gently. He looked up at you, his face so close to yours, and the anguish you saw in his eyes took your breath away. “Oppa… are you okay?” you asked, cradling his face with your hand. You swept your thumb across his cheek as his eyes closed. He was supposed to be okay… that was the whole point.

“I should be asking you that question,” he forced out, his voice thick with emotion as he sat back down heavily. “Y/n… why did you do it?”

Swallowing hard, you looked away from him and refused to say anything.

“Y/n, please…” he begged. “I want to help you. That’s all I want.” He leaned forward, trying to meet your eyes, but you slid your gaze away again. “If you won’t talk to me, will you talk to a psychologist or a therapist?”

Your eyes widened in panic and you turned back to face him so fast he thought he might have heard your neck crack. “I can’t talk to anyone else about this!” you cried out. “You know we can’t tell anyone about the… the…” As you realized what you’d almost blurted out, you clammed up, clutching at your blanket in distress as you lowered your gaze.

“Is this… about the imprint?” Taehyung asked, his voice shaky now. You didn’t reply, but the damage was already done. “Y/n, I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice choked. He sniffled and blinked away tears. “I know this has been difficult and unfair for you,” he continued. “If you want to leave me, you only have to ask, okay?”

Fuck. This had never been the plan. Now he thought there was something wrong with you and wanted to get rid of you. Of course he did – who wanted a defective pet who tried to commit suicide? “You want me to go?” you asked in a small voice. “Where- where would I go?”

“Will you be happier if you leave? I just want you to be happy, baby. You can go live with my parents, or I’ll get you your own apartment somewhere, or if you want--” He gulped. “I can see if anyone else wants to adopt you. You’re so cute and pretty, I’m sure lots of hybrids want to adopt a human like you.” The words felt like ground glass, but he was sincere in his offer. If it would help you, he would give you up entirely, despite the personal cost to him. Even saying the words had his wolf going crazy, begging and whining for you to stay, but he remained resolute, refusing to give voice to his feelings. This was about you, and it would remain about you.

Would you be happier if you left? Honestly, you didn’t know. You looked up at him and bit your lip thoughtfully. The imprint had been difficult for you to deal with, yes, and he’d ruined your trust in him by kicking you out. But he’d been trying to make up for it ever since, and it had been about eight months of him reining in his instincts and being patient and kind. You were more than aware that his insomnia was caused by you, and it probably wasn’t the only problem that you were causing in his life, yet he’d never made you feel bad.

And—most importantly, he’d saved you. You were sitting in this hospital bed, well and alive, because of him, and he was still trying to help you. Would you ever find somebody who cared about you as much as Taehyung? Who else would go to the same lengths to make sure that you were safe and happy?

Even now, you could see how difficult it was for him to make you that offer. Taehyung was notoriously bad at hiding his feelings, after all, especially from someone as familiar with him as you were, but even without seeing his distress from his body language, you knew that it wouldn’t be easy for him if you left his life. Yet he’d offered, and he was being sincere about it.

Taehyung was one in a million, and you’d lucked out by having him as your owner. He’d been exemplary other than his one slip, and as awful as that had been, you could sort of understand why he’d done it. Besides, hadn’t he made up for it?

Before you knew it, you were shaking your head. Slowly at first, then increasingly vehemently. You didn’t want to leave him, you realized now. Yes, things had been difficult recently, but he’d done his best to make up for it, was truly remorseful about his mistake, and you could feel how much he cared for you with everything he did. For the most part, you really liked being his pet, and you would miss him if you left.

“I don’t want to leave,” you said in a small voice.

Taehyung sagged in relief. “Okay, baby,” he said, reaching out to stroke your hair. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Trust me. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you ever again.”

His promise made you feel like everything was going to be all right, because you knew Taehyung would move heaven and earth for you.

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

When you were discharged from the hospital a few days later, Taehyung was right there to pick you up, wheeling you out in your wheelchair – despite your protests that you could walk, thank you very much – and attempting to help you into the car. Although you slapped his hands away and got into the car unaided, you couldn’t stop the small smile that stole across your face at how eager he was to coddle you.

Taehyung had barely left your side during the time you’d been in the hospital, and they’d given him special permission to stay past visiting hours because he was your owner. He’d only gone home to shower and change, and to bring you some proper clothes to change into when you were discharged. Your near-death experience had changed your entire outlook on the situation you were in, and you were more open with him now than you’d been in the past months, ever since he rescued you from the streets. Taehyung, for his part, reveled in your new, easier relationship with him, smiling so much at you that you wondered how his cheeks didn’t ache.

You were glad to be home, honestly. Hospital food sucked and you craved the comfort of being back in familiar surroundings. Taehyung looked over at you after pressing the button for the elevator, and you smiled back at him. “You doing okay?” he asked, just to be sure. He’d been doing that a lot over the past couple of days – asking after you periodically, like he just had to make sure that you were still okay.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you told him, squeezing his arm. You knew it had scared him when you suddenly – or so it seemed to him – decided to take your own life, with very little warning. Since you didn’t have any plans to tell him why you’d done it, not being willing to throw Namjoon under the bus when you knew he’d meant well, you’d made up your mind to reassure him that you didn’t have any plans to try again. You were quite happy being among the living.

When Taehyung opened the front door and let you in, you about leapt out of your skin when you saw the other boys standing in the entrance. “Y/n-ie!” Jimin cried, rushing to give you a hug. Confused, you stood still and let him rub his cheek against your temple, staring with wide eyes at the boys over his shoulder.

“Guys, what are you doing here?” Taehyung grumped, trying to sound irritated but not entirely succeeding.

Hoseok shrugged. “We wanted to come welcome Y/n back,” he explained. “We brought lots of food, too.”

“Aww, thank you guys,” you giggled.

It was easy to not overthink when you were with all seven of the boys. They were rowdy and noisy, as always, yelling at each other and hamming it up to make you laugh. You didn’t need to do much to feel comfortable with them, sliding into old, familiar patterns of interaction as you sat at the table and ate the food they’d brought, giggling at their antics.

Even Taehyung seemed to relax around them, losing the tension you’d seen him carry in his shoulders and the lines around his mouth. As he smiled and laughed with Jungkook and Jimin, you couldn’t help but feel warm inside. This was what you had chosen, and you were happy with your decision.

None of the boys mentioned why you’d been in the hospital to begin with, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but from the way Namjoon kept staring at you, you knew Taehyung had definitely told at least him. You tried your best to avoid his gaze, feeling awkward, but you could feel his eyes drilling holes into the back of your head.

After lunch, you excused yourself to use the restroom while the others started clearing up. As you were washing your hands, you stared into the mirror as the memory of what had transpired the last time you were in this room happened. Right behind the mirror was the cabinet, and you couldn’t help but recall reaching in to grab the bottle of pills.

Shaken, you quickly dried off your hands and exited the room – only to run into Namjoon, who was leaning against the wall by the bathroom door.

“Oppa,” you greeted him, making to skirt around him and return to the living room, where the rest of the boys had migrated.

“Y/n,” he said urgently, and you looked up at him, surprised. You’d thought he just wanted to use the bathroom too, but apparently you were wrong.

“What is it, oppa?” you asked politely, not wanting to make a scene.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking down shamefully.

Your eyes widened. This hadn’t really been what you were expecting. “What for?” you asked cautiously.

“For suggesting that you should… you know,” he gestured at you with his hands, unable to say the words.

“Oh… don’t be sorry. You didn’t force me or anything,” you said, patting his arm.

“Still, I shouldn’t have told you about it,” he persisted. “That was wrong of me, I realise now. It’s not your responsibility to break the imprint.”

“Oppa…” you sighed. “It’s really not your fault, okay? I was the one who made the decision, and I was the one who asked you for the information. I know you were just trying to help.”

He raised his anguished gaze to meet yours, and you were surprised by how truly miserable he looked. This whole time, you’d thought that he only tolerated you, that he resented you because of what you’d done to Taehyung. His attitude towards you had shifted so drastically after finding out about the imprint that you’d gotten whiplash, and it was a huge part of why you ultimately accepted that the imprint was mostly your fault. Seeing him so cut up about your suicide attempt was jarring, to say the least.

“No, it was wrong of me,” he insisted. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I realise now that it isn’t your fault all of this happened, and I should have known better than to tell you when you were still recovering from your traumatic experience.”

“What did you tell her?” Taehyung’s voice cut rudely into the discussion you were having with Namjoon, and you both whipped around, eyes wide. It would have been almost comical if Taehyung hadn’t been so furious.

“Taehyung-ah—”

“Tae-oppa—”

Both of you tried to placate Taehyung, but he wasn’t having it. “What. Did. You. Tell. Her?” he asked, louder and more forcefully this time.

You wanted to facepalm. You’d been so careful about not letting it slip to Taehyung, trying to prevent this very situation from happening, and he’d caught you at the earliest possible moment.

“Tae-oppa, please—” You ran towards him, grabbing his shirt with your hands and trying to stop him from advancing on Namjoon. “It was nothing, please just let it go,” you begged.

When he looked down tenderly at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek in a manner that was very reminiscent of the way you’d done the same to him in the hospital, you relaxed a little, thinking he was going to do as you asked. Then he looked up at Namjoon over your head, and you sighed. Oh well, you thought. It would have been too easy if you’d been able to defuse the situation just like that.

Namjoon, for his part, wasn’t doing anything to defend himself, standing with his head bowed and hands clasped in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, knowing that Taehyung would be able to hear him anyway.

It didn’t help. Taehyung pushed you out of the way gently and you stared, wide-eyed, as he stalked towards the taller hybrid. Namjoon could probably defend himself if he wanted to, but he didn’t bother, letting Taehyung deck him so hard he fell onto the ground. Unsatisfied, Taehyung straddled him and continued hitting him repeatedly, so hard you could see Namjoon’s eye already swelling shut as blood spattered on the ground.

“Stop, stop!” you screamed, throwing yourself onto your knees behind the and wrapping your arms around Taehyung’s waist. “Stop, please…” you started sobbing, burying your face in his back. The violence reminded you of being out on the streets, watching the various gang fights between the humans that would take place on a near-daily basis.

The commotion had the other boys rushing to see what was going on, gathering in the hallway as they gawked at the scene in front of them. Hoseok was the first one to snap out of it, running forward to haul Taehyung off Namjoon. The fox hybrid wasn’t strong enough to control the incensed wolf, but Jin and Jungkook quickly stepped in to help, and together they managed to separate the two.

Jimin darted forward to fuss over Namjoon, helping him up while Taehyung strained against his brothers and continued yelling and swearing.

“Tae-oppa, please,” you begged, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Please stop.”

The proximity to you seemed to help, as he relaxed slightly in your hold. “You’d better go,” you said to Namjoon, and he nodded. The rest of the boys filed out with him, leaving you alone with your owner.

“Tae-oppa, are you okay?” you asked worriedly once the door closed behind the others. You pulled away from him and grabbed his hands, examining them to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself.

“Is that why you did it?” he asked. He didn’t sound like himself, and you looked up at him with concern. His bangs hung over his eyes, which were still sparking with rage. He’d never seemed more like an animal than in that moment, and this was including the last time he’d been in heat.

“Taehyung-oppa…” You didn’t know what to say.

“Is it?!” he raised his voice, and you jumped in fright. Your nerves were already shot to hell from the bathroom and then the confrontation with Namjoon, and you broke down in tears.

“I’m sorry,” you blubbered between sobs. “He said it was the only way to break the imprint, and then you said you didn’t want it, and I thought—”

“Hey, hey.” Your distress snapped Taehyung out of his anger, and he immediately turned his attention to comforting you. “I wasn’t blaming you, please don’t cry,” he said, his tone a lot softer now as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “You don’t need to apologize, ever, okay? It was my fault for being thoughtless,” he said, ducking a little so he could look you in the eye when you were stubbornly looking downward.

“I don’t ever want you to think that the imprint is a problem for you to solve, okay? It’s not your fault, and I should never have made you think that you had any obligation to seek out a solution, especially one like that.” The strength and conviction with which he spoke the words made it difficult to do anything other than nod, and you finally felt the weight you’d been carrying on your shoulders ever since Namjoon told you about what he thought was the only way to break the bond.

“And I’m sorry for yelling.” He sighed as you hugged him, wrapping his own arms around you and stroking your hair as you sobbed into his shirtfront. “Next time, if you have any problems, I don’t want you to think you have to hide them from me, okay? Even if they’re about us.” He might have imprinted on you, but he was still your owner and he was still responsible for you. He’d been paying for his slip-up for almost a year now, and he was determined to be more mindful from now on. The image of your body, looking so small and fragile, in your bed still haunted him.

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

Being back in your room was difficult, you realized once you’d washed up and gotten ready for bed. Even getting into bed made you think of your suicide attempt, and there was also that ugly stain on the carpet from where you’d thrown up. Taehyung had tried to clean it, but he hadn’t been able to get the stain out, and looking at it bothered you.

There was no way you’d be able to fall asleep in the room, so you hesitantly walked over to Taehyung’s intending to bunk in with him. However, the moment you reached the door, you chickened out and paused with your fist raised. Would it be okay if you slept with him tonight? Taehyung would never say no, but you knew it would probably be difficult for him to get any rest with you in his bed. The last time you’d slept in the same room with him had been the night he found out about your experience on the street, and you still remembered waking up to his hard-on pressing into your back.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, you thought. You could always stay on the couch tonight, you decided and turned to do just that. Before you could take a step, however, the bedroom door opened behind you and you turned back around to see Taehyung standing in front of you wearing just pajama pants.

“H-hey,” you said awkwardly.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked. You didn’t ask how he knew you were there – of course he heard you coming down the hall. You bit your lip uncertainly, but sleeping with him did sound like a much better option than the couch, so you said yes and scurried into his room, climbing back into your side of the bed and burrowing under the sheets.

“Are you all right?” Taehyung asked as he got back into bed.

You hummed noncommittally. “I guess,” you said cagily, and he turned onto his side to look at you more fully. The intimacy of this position made your heart race, and you weren’t sure if it was discomfort or something else. His quirked brow was all it took to make you come clean. “Being in my room reminds me of… you know,” you mumbled, feeling guilty for some reason.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung soothed, though he didn’t initiate any physical contact. “You can stay here tonight, and tomorrow we can go stay with my parents for a while, okay? Would you like that?”

Your eyes lit up at the prospect. “We can visit Yeontan?” you asked, your voice lilting with delight.

“Of course we can,” Taehyung said, smiling at you. Your affection for the little dog knew no bounds, and he really should have done this sooner, he realized as he watched you snuggle more deeply into the sheets and shut your eyes. You were asleep within minutes, which he envied, knowing it would probably be a sleepless night for him.

Thankfully, he was wrong, although he thought maybe it would have been better if he’d stayed awake when he woke up and realized that he was wrapped around you again. He was really working on remembering to limit physical contact with you, but it was difficult not to give in to habit (and his wolf instincts) when you seemed more open and comfortable around him than you had in months. Your brush with death had really changed your attitude towards him, it seemed, and though he didn’t really understand why, he was just pleased that you didn’t seem to shy away from his touch as much anymore.

Carefully disentangling himself from you, he slipped out of bed with his phone in his hand and hobbled awkwardly towards the bathroom. Sharing a bed with his imprint was hard (pun intended). Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he called his parents to ask if it was okay if the two of you stayed with them for a little while. They were more than pleased to have you.

The next call he made was considerably harder. Since he wasn’t exactly on talking terms with Namjoon, he called Hoseok to let him know that he would be taking a couple of weeks off to spend time with you and his family. He felt bad about it, and apologized repeatedly, but right now he had to make you his priority.

Hoseok was understanding enough, explaining that he too thought it was best if Taehyung and Namjoon didn’t see each other for a little bit. They were already going to have to push promotions back by a couple of weeks because Namjoon’s face was messed up, so it would be fine if he skipped practice.

When he hung up the phone, he took a moment to bury his face in his hands. God, everything was a mess, but at least you were healthy and seemed to be in high spirits. Shaken up by your near brush with death, sure, but overall doing way better than expected. Thank God for small blessings, he supposed. And big blessings too, like that he’d decided to come home early and found you before it was too late.

You woke up to an empty bed, but that didn’t really faze you. When you peeked out the bedroom door, you saw the bathroom door was closed, and figured Taehyung was in there. Shrugging, you skipped over to your room to start packing. You couldn’t be more excited about going back to Geochang and seeing Yeontan and Kai and everyone else.

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

Being back on the farm was great, you thought. Yeontan came running up to the car as soon as it pulled up in front of the house, and you leapt out to pick up your furry little friend. “I missed you so much,” you cooed, rubbing your face in his fur as he wriggled around excitedly, trying to lick your face. Taehyung’s parents came out to greet you, hugging their son and then you. Yeontan was now panting happily from his perch in your arms, and you cuddled him as Taehyung brought your bags in.

Distractions abounded on the farm, and you kept yourself well-entertained with Taehyung’s siblings, nephews and nieces, and hanging out with your old friends. It made it easy to avoid thinking about everything that had transpired, and every night when it was time for bed, you were so exhausted that you weren’t able to lie there thinking and worrying, falling asleep almost immediately.

Taehyung was enjoying the break too. He loved the city and his work, but being back in the countryside, with the clean air and the family he rarely got to see was a welcome respite. He spent his days mostly in the house, hanging out with his family while you ran around doing whatever. It was nice to see you happy again, he thought one afternoon as you took a nap on the couch, snuggled up with Yeontan. He was still a baby, but he was getting on in age and wasn’t as spry as he once was, something you didn’t mind as you carried him around so he wouldn’t strain his little joints walking.

Still, you could only distract yourself for so long before everything caught up with you, and you found yourself huddled in a shed late one morning crying over everything you’d lost. As healing as being on the farm was, it reminded you of the last time you’d lived here, while Taehyung had been serving in the military. It had been so much easier, everything uncomplicated and simple. You hadn’t had to battle these complicated feelings for Taehyung, knowing that he was struggling with his own turmoil – you’d just been secure in the fact that he loved you the way he should love a pet.

Yeontan, concerned, propped his front paws on your knees and tried to lick your tears away, but you just pulled him close as you continued to sob. Why had everything become so difficult? What had you done to deserve all of this?

As you were having your little breakdown, Taehyung was looking for you. It was almost lunchtime, which you were never late for because you loved his mom’s cooking, so he got concerned when you didn’t pop up with Yeontan in tow. It seemed like the dog liked you better than everyone else, including Taehyung himself, which didn’t seem fair, but he’d gotten over sulking about it when he saw how happy you two made each other.

“Mom, have you seen Y/n? She’s usually never late for lunch, I’m getting worried,” Taehyung finally asked after checking every room in the house and the spots around the farm he thought she’d be.

“Oh, try looking in that old shed on the far corner of the orchard, sweetie,” his mother replied carelessly, plating up the dishes. “She likes to hang out there for quiet time; thinks we don’t know about it.”

With that helpful tip, Taehyung jogged through the orchard to the shed in question, knowing he’d hit the jackpot even before opening the door because of the sound of your sobs coming through the door.

“Y/n?” he called, knocking on the door. “You in there?”

Sniffling, you hastily tried to wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your shirt. “Yeah,” you called out.

“Hey,” he greeted you as he walked in, coming to take a seat next to you. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you said, looking down at your hands, half-covered by your oversized sleeves. Only your fingers peeked out, making you look smaller and more vulnerable than usual.

“Come on,” Taehyung coaxed, knocking his shoulder into yours gently. “You know you can trust me with anything, right? I’ll always support you.”

You clenched your hands into fists, hiding them in your sleeves. Yeontan hopped from your lap to Taehyung’s, and you felt the loss of his warm little body immediately, curling closer into Taehyung in response.

“It’s just… it’s a lot,” you said vaguely, unsure of how to put your thoughts into words.

Thankfully, Taehyung understood without you needing to say anything. “I’m sure it is,” he empathized quietly. His giant frame radiated heat that you soaked up eagerly. As a human, you weren’t quite as resistant to the cold as he was. “If you want to talk about it, though, I’m always here for you, okay? It can be now or any time.”

“I know.” You nodded. Taehyung had definitely demonstrated his commitment to you. Whether it was because he was a responsible pet owner or because of the imprint you weren’t sure, but you knew now that there was no stronger force on this earth than Taehyung’s determination to keep you safe.

It was that sense of security that had you opening up to him. Resting your head on his shoulder, you started speaking. “Being here just reminded me of a simpler time, is all.”

“I get that,” Taehyung said quietly, leaning his head against yours. “Being here reminds me of my childhood too.” He ignored the way his heart seemed to skip at your proximity, determined to be there for you. You’d always enjoyed physical comfort in the past, and it wasn’t anything more than that. What kind of owner would he be if he couldn’t even cuddle his pet?

He looked down at Yeontan, sitting on his lap and panting up at him happily. That’s right, he tried to convince himself. You were just like Yeontan. Pesky imprint aside, he shouldn’t see or treat you any differently.

Thankfully, you didn’t notice any of his inner turmoil since you were so absorbed in your own thoughts. Looping your arm around his, you continued speaking, feeling like now that the dam had been broken the words were spilling out of you almost too fast, without any control. “I know none of this is your fault – well, except for kicking me out, that most definitely was—” Taehyung nodded, accepting your censure with grace, “—but it just feels like a lot of pressure, you know?”

Taehyung stiffened. “If I’ve ever made you feel obligated to do anything—” he began, but you cut him off, shaking your head.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Your brow furrowed as you thought about the best way to phrase it. “It’s just that…” you paused to think for a moment, before continuing. “Knowing how much you’re struggling makes me feel like I should be doing more to help you,” you explained.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to, really, you shouldn’t worry about this at all,” he stressed, and meant it.

“That’s not how caring about someone works, Tae-oppa,” you countered. “Besides, isn’t your heat coming up soon? If we don’t go back soon you’re going to have to go through it here and it’ll be super awkward and—” You stopped when Taehyung abruptly lifted his head off yours and stared down at you.

“What is it?” you asked, looking up at him. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Oppa? You okay?”

“My heat,” he murmured. “I forgot about that.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. “You forgot? How is that even possible?” The symptoms of his preheat were so disruptive that all his daily activities were affected by them.

“I don’t know, the symptoms just… disappeared.”

Blinking at him, you tried to put the pieces together. “Okaaaay…” you said slowly. “When did this happen?” If there was a problem with his health, you had to go back to Seoul ASAP so he could see a doctor. You’d never heard of this happening before, although granted, you’d never been seeking this information out.

“Uhh, I remember eating way more than usual for breakfast the morning that you, uh…” he paused awkwardly, then continued, skipping over any mention of your suicide attempt altogether. “Then you were in the hospital and I was so worried I was barely eating, so I guess it was then?”

You frowned. That didn’t make sense – his heat cycle had never been disrupted by stress before. Even when there’d been deaths in his family his heat had still passed without incident. Yet it had to be that, since the timing lined up so perfectly.

Taehyung’s lips pressed together to avoid smiling at how cute you were when you were deep in thought, trying to figure the puzzle out. “Come on,” he said, standing up and dusting his pants off. “It’s lunchtime.”

“Oh, okay,” you said quietly, jolted out of your train of thought, as you let him help you up. By the time you got back to the house, lunch was almost over and as you exclaimed your disappointment over your favourite stew being gone, you forgot entirely about the strange mystery of Taehyung’s heat.

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

Being back in Geochang meant hanging out with Kai again. Your reunion with your ex-boyfriend was something you’d been looking forward to since Taehyung even floated the idea of going back to visit his parents. You hadn’t broken up because you were incompatible in any way, of course, but because it was just impossible to be together, since your life was with Taehyung’s in Seoul, and Kai’s family was very happy living in the countryside.

Still, when you went to visit him, his owners just let you into the house, telling you that Kai was upstairs in his room. After thanking them politely, you ran up to his bedroom, bursting in and jumping on his bed, where he was still sleeping.

“Kai! Wake up, you lazy sack!” you giggled as you shook him awake.

He batted you away irritably. “I haven’t seen you in over a year and you’re still just as annoying as ever,” he grumbled, but since he glomped you while he was saying it, you ignored his annoying whining.

You bullied him into going to brush his teeth and sat on the edge of the bathtub watching him as he did so. He was just as handsome as ever, if not more so, but somehow you didn’t feel any attraction towards him. Was it because of the time you’d spent on the streets? Oh God, what if you didn’t like men anymore? Or sex in general? That would be a real tragedy, you thought, pressing your lips together.

Despite your confusion about Kai, the two of you still had a good time together, riding bikes around the countryside the way you used to. It was cold now, since it was winter, but you didn’t let that stop the two of you, even though you were both freezing with red drippy noses. Eventually you ended up in the community greenhouse, setting up a picnic in a cozy corner and shucking your coats. Being with Kai was easy and familiar, and you found yourself slipping into a younger state of mind, feeling lighter and happier. Still no lust, though.

Kai, on the other hand, seemed to have no such compunction – you felt his hand sliding along your lower back, clearly trying to get under your shirt, and you bit back a smile. Even if you didn’t reciprocate, there was something so therapeutic about the predictability of your ex-boyfriend trying to hit on you after all the chaos in your life over the past year.

“Kai,” you rebuked, brushing his hand away from you.

“No?” he asked, pouting at you.

Instead of answering verbally, you just shook your head with a smile.

“Okay,” he accepted, lying back. “I had my doubts anyway.”

“Yeah?” You turned onto your stomach and lay down next to him, propping yourself up with your elbows so you could look down at him easily. “How come?”

He shrugged. “Your whole vibe just seems different,” he said vaguely. “Can you move over a little, please? The sun is getting in my eyes.”

You rolled your eyes but acquiesced so that your shadow blocked out the sun. “What do you mean by that, though?”

“You seem… quieter, and your eyes are different. Like you’re keeping secrets, or you have a burden.”

Well, that much was certainly true, you thought as you hummed in acknowledgement.

“You’re still hot, though,” was his conclusion. You rolled your eyes as you laughed. Kai would be Kai, you supposed.

“Don’t worry, everything’s going to work out,” he said unexpectedly, and you looked at him with wide eyes. He’d always been perceptive, so you shouldn’t have been surprised though. He just smiled sweetly at you in response, and your heart squeezed with affection for him.

“Kai,” you sighed, snuggling close to him and resting your head on his chest. His arm came up around you, and it was nice and secure and warm. Still, you couldn’t shake the thought that Taehyung gave warmer hugs and was altogether better at making you feel like nothing in this world could touch you.

The both of you fell asleep in the greenhouse and only woke up when the sun was starting to set. Kai dropped you off at your place, just like old times, and you smiled fondly at his departing figure on his bicycle before turning around to enter the house.

You almost tripped over Taehyung on your way back into the house.

“Where were you all day?” he demanded.

“Jeez, oppa!” you screamed, pressing your hand over your pounding heart. “I was hanging out with Kai today, don’t worry,” you said dismissively, walking into the house. “Mom, I’m home!” you called out, unwinding your scarf and shucking your coat.

Taehyung came in after you, right on your heels. “You smell just like him,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, we fell asleep after lunch,” you explained with a shrug. This wasn’t necessarily uncommon behavior – even when you were just hanging around the house, you often napped in the afternoon.

His face still looked like a thundercloud, though. “What’s wrong, Taehyung-oppa?” you asked, your brow starting to furrow in concern. Had you missed something important today?

“Nothing,” he sulked. “You just really smell like him,” he repeated.

“All right,” you accepted, though you gave him another strange look before going to the dining room.

Jealousy was inappropriate and ridiculous, Taehyung reminded himself sternly as he ran his hands through his hair. He glanced towards the dining room where you’d gone, and tugged on the fluffy strands hard, hoping the pain would help him ground himself. You’d done nothing wrong and didn’t deserve this weird attitude from him.

Still, he had to admit that he absolutely hated having to smell another man’s scent on you, especially because Kai was human. He knew that you hadn’t done anything with Kai, but still, even if you had, who could blame you? Certainly not his mother, who was asking you about your day with your fellow human.

He needed to get a grip, he decided as he went to rejoin his family. This silly possessiveness over you was because of the imprint. He’d promised you that the imprint wasn’t going to be a problem because he could control it, and he intended to keep that promise.

Although, he thought as he looked over at you again, helping his mother set the table, these days he wasn’t quite sure where he ended and the imprint began.

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

By the time you headed back to Seoul with Taehyung two weeks later, your relationship with him was much stronger, and you were happier than you’d been since before his last heat. Being in Geochang was like magic for you, the change in your surroundings making it so much easier to talk to Taehyung about all the doubts and insecurities that you’d been battling with for the past year. You’d even confessed your long-held guilt about taking advantage of him during his last heat, which he’d been horrified by.

Taehyung was driving, and he thought you were asleep in the front seat, so you took the opportunity to open your eyes just a crack to peek at him. He looked so good today, his large hands handling the steering wheel with ease, and you never felt safer than you did with him at the wheel.

“Tae-oppa?” you asked hesitantly as he got into the other side of the bed.

He hummed in acknowledgement, letting you know he was listening.

“About your heat…”

At that, he turned around to face you more fully, showing that you had his full attention.

“Can you go through your heat with another woman?”

“Uhhh…” Taehyung blinked at you. The question had come out of nowhere, and it took him a few seconds to digest it. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s not like there’s a manual for the imprint. It was thought to be obsolete technology, remember?”

You scooched further down into the sheets as you contemplated your response. “So what happened during your last heat… will it happen again?” It was kind of embarrassing talking about this, but you needed to be prepared. You weren’t going to end up in the same position as last year, caught off guard and unable to protect Taehyung from himself and you.

Unbeknownst to you, Taehyung was thinking the same thing. “It won’t,” he rushed to reassure you. “Now that I know what’s going to happen, we can make preparations, okay? You’ll stay with Yoongi or one of the others during my heat. You don’t have to worry that I’ll, uh…” He didn’t want to use the word ‘attack’, but that was what came to mind. “Anyway, yeah,” he concluded lamely.

“But you’ll be miserable, won’t you?” you asked, your eyes filled with concern.

“You don’t have to worry about that, sweetie,” he reassured you. “I can handle myself.”

“But I already feel bad about what I let happen last year,” you protested. “Are you sure you can’t go through your heat with someone else?”

His nose wrinkled in distaste at the mere thought of another woman, but he was more focused on what you’d accidentally let slip. “What do you mean what you let happen?” he asked.

Oops. You hadn’t really meant to say that. “You know,” you equivocated, gesturing helplessly with your hands. “You were clearly indisposed,” you tiptoed around it delicately, “and I should have known better than to reciprocate.” God, this was embarrassing. Your hands itched to bring the duvet up over your head.

“Y/n… what are you talking about?” Taehyung, completely flummoxed, had nothing else to say.

Okay, screw this. You burrowed further under the sheets, hiding your head under the covers. You were officially leaving this conversation.

“Y/n, what happened wasn’t your fault at all,” Taehyung said strongly, patting the head-shaped lump under the covers. “I basically attacked you like an animal, and you were the one who stopped it from getting out of hand. Thank you for that, by the way.”

Your head popped back out. “’Thank you’?” you echoed disbelievingly.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen, especially when we hadn’t talked about it before. You took charge when I wasn’t able to control myself, and I know it was difficult for you.”

Your eyes started to sting, and you willed your tears away. The relief of knowing, after all this time, that he didn’t blame you and you didn’t need to keep carrying this burden silently was overwhelming, making your throat close. You couldn’t have said anything in response to him, and Taehyung didn’t push you, just smiling down at you before he turned over and went to sleep, leaving you with your own emotions.

You’d thought about that night almost obsessively since, and you were replaying the events that had occurred in your mind again. Ever since then, you couldn’t stop the way your heart sped up a little when Taehyung was around, and you didn’t quite know what to make of it. He just made you feel so safe and cherished, and he’d so easily helped you set down all the emotional baggage you’d been accumulating for the past year. Was it gratitude or was it something more?

You opened your eyes fully and blinked at Taehyung, and he took his eyes off the road for just a second to smile at you. “Did you have a good nap?” he asked, returning his gaze to the front.

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling back at him. It was true – ever since you’d told him everything, you’d been sleeping so much easier. You still had occasional nightmares about your time on the streets, but Taehyung was always there when you woke up to comfort you, and you were starting to move past it.

“That’s good,” he said, the sincerity radiating off him.

Yeah, you thought to yourself. It was good.

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

The return of his preheat symptoms didn’t particularly surprise Taehyung, but it definitely complicated things a little. Now that you were less distracted by everything and getting the space you needed from being home, without cameras constantly trained on you, you noticed almost immediately, increasing the amount of groceries you bought and making other small adjustments to make it easier for him.

These days you accompanied him to the studio more often than not, and somewhat ironically, it was Namjoon who was the most grateful to see you there. Even though you still seemed a little uncomfortable around him, refusing to make eye contact and getting jumpy whenever he walked past your chair or came too close, you were also careful to keep an eye on Taehyung, intervening whenever it looked like Taehyung was getting too hostile. Without your presence, he was sure that the comeback prep would have fallen apart ages ago. It wasn’t the first time you’d mediated fights between the boys, but Taehyung had never been so angry for so long before.

As Taehyung stormed out of the studio where they were practicing the choreography, citing his frustration with Namjoon’s inability to get the dance moves right as the reason he needed a break, you winced as you stood up and bowed deeply to the others in apology. “His preheat is making him irritable,” you explained. “I’m so sorry, I’ll talk to him after his heat passes and he’s more level-headed.”

The others made various noises of assent and/or irritation, but they all accepted that Taehyung’s behavior was just going to get more irrational until his heat was over. As hybrids themselves, they were more than familiar with the havoc that the heat wreaked on their emotions.

Turning, you ran after Taehyung, finally finding him in the empty recording booth. He was seated on the couch, his elbows propped on his thighs and his face buried in his hands. When he heard you come in, he didn’t even react.

“Hey,” you said softly, coming to sit next to him. “You doing okay there?”

“No,” Taehyung grumped. “And you probably shouldn’t sit this close to me, either.” Your scent had been distracting him all day, and the sexual frustration added to his existing anger towards Namjoon. He probably shouldn’t have snapped, but he was still so angry at the older man for meddling.

Ignoring him, you rubbed his back soothingly. You’d gotten a lot better about physical contact, and while he was grateful that you seemed to be moving past your trauma quite well, it really wasn’t helping. One consequence of the delayed heat seemed to be that the heat symptoms were coming on a lot faster and more intense, and he didn’t really trust himself around you anymore. Even your comforting touch was making heat coil in his belly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you suggested.

“I’m just mad at Namjoon-hyung, that’s all,” Taehyung explained sulkily. “I don’t know why you aren’t more upset with him. He literally told you to kill yourself.”

“Okay, first of all, no he didn’t,” you said firmly. “He just said that was the only way he’d found to break the imprint, and he told me explicitly not to do it.” You might not be pleased with Namjoon for what he’d said to you when you were in a fragile state, but still, you didn’t want Taehyung to get the wrong idea. Namjoon had meant well, after all, and besides, Taehyung still had to work with him, and they were brothers.

“Secondly, I was the one who sought him out and asked him. And you know he’s just looking out for you. You weren’t happy about the imprint either and he thought he was being helpful.”

“I guess,” Taehyung grunted. He hated how much sense you were making. He still wanted to be angry with Namjoon, especially since it was giving him another outlet for all the nervous, pent-up energy he had inside him.

“Besides, he gave you information when you asked for it, right? It would have been unfair for him to not tell me when I asked too.” Seeing him start to cave, you snuggled closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I’m not saying you have to forgive him or anything. You’re allowed to feel how you want to feel. Just be a little more patient with him, okay? He was just trying to look out for you, and he made a mistake. It happens to all of us.”

With your scent in his head and your body pressed up against his, Taehyung lost all sense of reason as he turned his head, caught your chin in his hand, and kissed you. His lips were soft as they moved against yours, but you were completely frozen, your mind blanking at the unexpected kiss. It was only when Taehyung brought his other hand up to cradle your face as he started to deepen the kiss that you regained your senses, pushing him away by his shoulders.

You stared at each other for a second, neither of you sure of what to say. You were sure the shock was written across your face clearly, while Taehyung just looked slightly confused, his eyes still heavy-lidded. Then you could see the awareness trickle back into Taehyung’s gaze and his ears started turning red.

“Fuck!” he exploded, standing up. “Fuck, Y/n, I’m so sorry, I—” For a second longer, he just stood there, then he made an abrupt turn and ran out of the room.

Damn. You ran your fingers over your lower lip thoughtfully. You hadn’t been kissed for a long time – the Big Bang boys hadn’t been big on that – and it seemed you’d missed it. There’d been some initial anxiety when he kissed you, and your mind had short-circuited for a second, but right before you pushed him away… you’d started to enjoy it, just a little.

Huh.

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“Hey, Y/n?” Taehyung said suddenly, breaking the silence that the two of you had been stuck in since leaving the studio. That had been one of the most awkward car rides you’d ever experienced, but every time you wanted to say something, you looked over at Taehyung and his troubled frown stopped you. He really was awful at hiding his feelings.

You looked up from your dinner, happy that he was finally talking to you again. “Yeah?”

“Maybe it would be a good idea for you to go stay with Yoongi until my heat is over,” Taehyung said, fiddling with his stew and refusing to look up at you. He’d been castigating himself about what he’d allowed to happen ever since he left you behind in the recording booth, and feeling lower and lower the more he thought about it. This was the only way to make sure you were safe from him, he figured. He’d promised to protect you, and that included from himself.

You frowned. “But your heat isn’t here yet, is it?”

Some awkward throat-clearing and foot-shuffling later, he admitted, “It’s coming on really strong this time, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry about earlier, but I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen again if you stay here.”

Here it was. You swallowed and put down your chopsticks, lining them up with your thumb on the edge to buy some time. You’d been thinking about this ever since he left, and you weren’t quite sure whether this was the right decision to make, but you wanted to anyway. Taehyung had been there for you every step of the way, not just throughout this whole year-long nightmare, but before that too, and remembering how amazing he’d been throughout it all, even though it had to have hurt him to know how much trouble you were having because of him made something flutter in your tummy.

“I don’t want to go.” Now that the words were out in the open, you looked up through your lashes, sneaking a peek at Taehyung’s reaction. Would he be happy? Excited? Turned on? The anticipation made your stomach clench.

“Y/n…” Taehyung sounded slightly irritated now, and that wasn’t what you’d been hoping for. “Thank you for your trust in my restraint, but please go. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he begged.

“Maybe… I do want it,” you suggested. Your voice was barely a whisper and the words had come out so fast a normal human would never have been able to make it out, but you knew Taehyung would have no problem with that.

As he gaped helplessly at you, you felt a thrill of satisfaction. There it was, the reaction you’d been hoping for. “A-are you sure?” he asked, and you felt a pang of fondness for him. He was always doing his best to look out for you, even at his own expense. If anything, it made you more certain of your decision.

“I’m sure, Tae-oppa.” Then you realized that he might not be willing to do this with a human and quickly backtracked. “I mean, only if you want to too! If you don’t want to be with a human—”

“No,” Taehyung interrupted. “I do, I…” Emotion seemed to overwhelm him for a second, before he composed himself. “Do you know what you’re agreeing to?” he asked, just to be sure. He didn’t think he would be able to restrain himself if you were here with him during his heat.

You smiled at him and reached across the table to scratch his ears. “I do,” you told him with a soft smile, as his eyes closed in enjoyment. He’d always enjoyed this, you thought fondly, and he was so handsome like this, with his features relaxed. He’d spent a lot of time frowning in the past year.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and when he opened his eyes, you saw such profound gratefulness shining in them. You wondered if he saw the same thing in your gaze.

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Now that he had permission, it was like a switch had flipped in Taehyung. He insisted on helping you do the dishes that night, which was usual, but he decided that he absolutely had to stand shoulder to shoulder with you in front of the sink, helping you rinse the dishes and place them on the drying rack after you’d scrubbed them with dishwashing liquid. When you were done, he stood behind you as you rinsed your hands off and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his nose in your hair.

When you went to bed with him, he snuggled up to you like he used to before everything happened, dragging his nose across the pulse point in your neck to scent you as he wrapped himself around you. It didn’t take you long to realise just how restrained he’d been in terms of physical contact, letting you initiate more often than not and only touching you casually and fleetingly when he did reach out to you.

Still, you could tell that he was holding himself back, not wanting to overwhelm you with the sheer extent of his heat-driven desire for you. In the mornings, though you could feel his boner pressing into your ass, he just rolled away when he woke up without you saying anything. Neither of you quite talked about the inevitability of his approaching heat and what it meant that you’d agreed to spend it with him, but the tension between you was thick enough to cut with a knife. Taehyung still tried his best to be respectful of your need for distance, though, keeping all physical contact – well, if not platonic, at least affectionate more than overtly sexual.

You could tell it was taking a toll on him, though, and now that you were aware and looking out for the signs, you wondered how it was that you’d been so oblivious last year when he’d been struggling through his preheat. You had to stop going to the studio with him because he was having a hard time focusing on anything when you were around and would often just stare at you instead, which had earned him a few questioning looks from the other boys.

Now that you’d agreed to spend his heat with him, Taehyung’s wolf was finally satisfied after over a year of being in conflict with his rational side, and it felt indescribably good, like puzzle pieces falling into place. He hadn’t even realized how agonizing it had been to hold himself apart from you, like trying to tear the two halves of his psyche apart. His wolf reveled in every touch, every flirtatious look and smile that you sent his way, puffing up proudly every time he saw you. It was a little embarrassing, since Taehyung knew that it was ridiculous to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. Now that he didn’t have to fight the imprint, it settled into place in his chest warmly, making him feel like he could take on the world. For the first time in years, he actually found himself looking forward to his heat.

As his heat drew ever closer, Taehyung, ruled by his baser instincts, allowed himself to indulge in you. Casual cuddling on the couch while watching TV turned into lazy makeout sessions, which inevitably ended with him lying on top of you, your tongues sliding against each other lewdly while he tried his best not to grind against you. More than once, he’d had to excuse himself abruptly while you lay, dazed and flushed, on the couch, trying to recover and feeling bereft from the loss of his warmth.

This time, Taehyung was well-prepared for his heat, taking time off instead of going to work like a fool like he had last year, so when he woke up one morning and felt the familiar full-body ache that meant his heat was coming, he didn’t have to do anything but pull you closer to him. He knew you were awake from the sharp intake of breath you’d taken when you felt his erection rubbing against your ass, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel all that embarrassed about the way he was basically grinding against you.

“Y/n…” he groaned, his hands sliding up your shirt greedily to feel you up.

“Tae-oppa,” you gasped, and he made a noise low in his throat in response. He liked that, he decided. In his heat-addled state, he wasn’t capable of much complex thought, but he was definitely more than capable of making you scream his name.

However, your priorities were very different from Taehyung’s. As you gradually gained consciousness to Taehyung manhandling you, it occurred to you how nasty your breath was – and how bad his was as well, probably. Knowing that you might not have a chance to brush your teeth for hours if you let him start now, you tried your best to wriggle away from him to get to the bathroom.

“No,” he whined against your neck. “What are you doing?”

“I wanna brush my teeth,” you complained. Thankfully, his heat had just started and he hadn’t lost all sense of reason yet, so he let you go, though he was sulky when you turned back to look at him.

“Come on,” you coaxed with your hand out for him to take, rolling your eyes at his pouty expression. He looked just like a child that had had his favourite toy taken away. Still, he was pliant and obedient, and you even managed to convince him to brush his own teeth too.

“Do you want breakfast?” you asked as Taehyung was rinsing his mouth out. The bathroom door was open, and you were leaning against the wall right outside the door. He wasn’t very vocal this morning, but then he usually wasn’t a morning person anyway, so you didn’t think too much of it.

At your question, his entire demeanor changed. “No,” he growled. “I don’t want fucking breakfast.” He took the couple of steps to you, his long legs eating up the distance, then he was on you, pushing you back into the wall as his mouth descended on yours.

You’d been kissed like this only once before, a year ago during Taehyung’s last heat. He was ravenous, one hand cupping your cheek as his other gripped your hip urgently, sliding around your back to press you closer to him. As his tongue slid against your bottom lip, you let out a small moan as heat rushed through your lower belly. The sound only spurred him to deepen the kiss further. All those makeout sessions on the couch had nothing on this.

Taehyung’s urgency was contagious, and you hooked your fingers in his pajama pants to pull his hips closer to you, reveling in the feel of his erection prodding at your belly. He started grinding it against you, detaching his lips from yours to pant. “Fuck,” he gasped, shuddering. “You smell so fucking good.” Then his lips were back on yours again, his hand diving into your pants.

As much as you were enjoying this, you didn’t particularly want to be fucked against a wall, at least not for your first time. (You decided to put a pin in it to revisit later.) “Tae-oppa,” you gasped as his fingers ghosted over your clit through your panties. “We should go back to the bedroom.”

He pulled back, clearly displeased with the idea of any more delays, but couldn’t fault your logic, so he lifted you off the ground and carried you back to his room. The casual display of strength was more arousing than you could have imagined, and you felt the wetness slipping out of you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Fuck,” Taehyung said again, gripping you more tightly. He couldn’t get back to the bed fast enough now, and one hand slid down to your ass to hold you close to him as he sped up.

Unwilling to part from you for even a second, he fell with you onto the bed, almost crushing you beneath his weight as he kissed you again, a filthy mess of lips and tongues that made both of you moan. He separated from you for just long enough to pull your camisole over your head, although you definitely heard it rip – not that you were overly concerned about it, however, when he was sliding his big hands over your body to grope your tits.

In retaliation, you stuck your hand down his pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear, which was very typical of him, and you smiled against his lips as you wrapped your hand around his dick and he shuddered in response. It felt so good to finally have a cock in your hand again, all warm and hard and throbbing.

Bracing his knees on the bed on either side of your hips, Taehyung lifted himself off you to tug your remaining clothes off, taking your panties and sweatpants in one fell swoop. You continued jerking him off almost lazily, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

With you now naked, the scent of your arousal permeated the air, driving Taehyung crazy. He had to have more of it, and it was that thought that guided him to shift so that he was between your legs, pushing them further apart to reveal your soft, wet pussy, all shiny from how turned on you were. It made his mouth water and his cock throb between his legs.

“Shit,” he breathed quietly, his eyes completely fixated on what lay between your legs. His unabashed scrutiny was starting to make you feel a little self-conscious, and you started to bring your legs together, but he stopped you with his hands on your inner thighs and a warning look.

“Tae-oppa,” you whined, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide. “Stop staring.”

“Okay,” he agreed absently. It wasn’t a difficult promise to make, he thought as he lowered his head. There was so much more he wanted to do to you.

The first swipe of his tongue across your slit had you shivering. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned before he dove back in with gusto, using broad strokes of his tongue to scoop up all the juices leaking from you before circling your clit. He teased you with light, kittenish licks that you honestly wouldn’t have expected from someone clearly so wrecked, and he moaned like you were doing him a favour by letting him eat you out.

It was all too easy for him to build you up to the brink of orgasm, his heightened senses allowing him to take note of every sigh, whimper and moan that you emitted as he found all your best spots. With his fingers in you rubbing against your g-spot and his lips suckling on your clit, it wasn’t long before you were lifting your hips off the bed, thrashing as you came ever closer to the edge.

“Please, Tae, pleasepleaseplease—” you moaned, cutting yourself off with a choked cry as you felt the tension in your lower belly snap beautifully. You clenched hard on his fingers as you came, your slick dripping out of you and down his hand. When the waves of pleasure buffeting your entire system stopped, you opened your eyes and blinked at him lazily with a small smile.

Taehyung, on the other hand, stared down at you with intense bedroom eyes as he lifted his hand – the one that just been inside you – to his mouth and cleaned your juices off with his tongue, keeping eye contact the entire time. You couldn’t help but feel a frisson of arousal snake through your core again at the clear intent in his gaze.

“Tae…” you held your arms out for him invitingly, and he groaned as he bent to kiss you, one hand planted into the mattress next to your head for balance while he worked his way out of his pajama pants with the other. Too impatient to take them off fully, he left them bunched around his knees as he shuffled closer to you, stroking his erection with his hand.

“’m gonna fuck you now,” he mumbled against your lips as he lined the tip of his cock up with your folds. You held your breath in anticipation – despite everything that had happened, including your brief dalliance earlier this year, the two of you had never actually done this before. You found yourself tensing up as he started pushing his way into you, making him groan at the increased tightness and friction.

“Relax for me, love,” he mumbled, his breath washing against your temple. You whimpered, locking your arms and legs around him and clinging on for dear life. Slowly, biting your lip, you concentrated on doing what he said, and he huffed in pleasure as he sank further into you. You were wet enough that even though you were tight around him, it didn’t really burn, the stretch and fullness teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” Taehyung praised, stopping to kiss you. Compared to what you were currently in the midst of, this kiss was gentle and chaste, intended to comfort you. It was somewhat surprising – based on what he’d told you and what you’d observed, you’d expected him to be out of control, unable to focus on anything other than his own pleasure. This considerate, gentle side of Taehyung wasn’t one you’d expected to see until the initial wave had subsided and he could think more coherently.

That wasn’t to say, of course, that you didn’t notice the strain this slow pace was taking on him – he was sucking marks almost viciously into your neck, his teeth catching on your skin almost threateningly, and his whole frame was wound so tight that he was almost trembling. You felt the tension in his shoulders and back, and you stroked his side soothingly, although from the way the muscles under your hand jumped, he didn’t appreciate the meaning behind the gesture.

When he finally bottomed out, you let out the breath you’d been holding as he groaned, holding himself painfully still. He could feel every ripple as you clenched and fidgeted under him, trying to get used to having him inside of you, and it was sorely testing his control. “Y/n, please,” he finally groaned. “Please stay still.”

Instead of doing as he said, you clenched as hard as you could around him, delighting in the shaky groan he let out as he dropped his head, his forehead brushing against your collarbone. “Fuck,” he huffed, reaching down to hook his arms behind your thighs and draping your legs over his shoulders. “I tried to be nice,” he grumbled as he pulled his hips back.

“Fuck being nice,” you purred as you hooked your arms around his neck, one hand finding its way into his hair.

That was the last straw, and all the impressive control Taehyung had been showing up till now shattered spectacularly as he started a brisk pace with his hips, folding you almost in half with his frame. You really didn’t have any clue just how much he was holding back until he stopped, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it as he plowed into you with everything he had.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he huffed, his breath making the baby hairs by your temple flutter. The bedsprings were creaking and the headboard thumping against the wall, but neither of you could bring yourself to care. All of Taehyung’s energy was being channeled into fucking you as hard and as fast as he could, his mind solely focused on the race to the finish. He was going to fill you up so good, you’d be dripping with his cum for days, finally getting those vile human men’s scent out of you…

The thought was endlessly titillating to him, and when he looked down to where you were joined, putting a visual image to the filthy thoughts swirling in his head, he bared his teeth in a snarl. The sight of his cock splitting you in half, shiny from your juices was almost too much for him, but he couldn’t look away.

Taehyung had never looked more like an animal than he did right now, completely focused on fucking your brains out, but instead of being afraid, his fucked out expression sent a shiver through you – the good kind, of course. You wanted to cum with him, but in his current state, he wasn’t focusing on your pleasure, so you snuck a hand between your joined bodies to rub at your clit.

As close as he was to orgasm, the sight of you pleasuring yourself filled him with irrational fury. His wolf howled, demanding that he take care of his mate, and completely under its sway now, he batted your hand away with a growl. “You’re mine,” he snapped as he took over, rubbing your clit with the rough pad of his thumb.

“Cum with me,” he groaned into your ear before he kissed you. He was too far gone to do it properly, of course, basically just pressing his open mouth against yours in a filthy imitation of a kiss, but he still managed to retain the presence of mind to tilt his hips slightly to adjust the angle with which he was pounding into you so that he could brush against your g-spot. The increased stimulation made you wail as you tried your best to move with him despite your limited leverage.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you huffed, trying to warn him as your hips jerked slightly, pressing your clit harder against his thumb to get that little bit more that you needed to cum. And then it was happening, your mind blanking out as you squeezed his cock tightly, clenching rhythmically as you worked through the waves of your orgasm.

As he heard and felt you cum around him, Taehyung groaned like he was dying and redoubled his efforts, his hips now basically a blur with how fast and hard he was thrusting into you. “Fuck, Y/n, yes,” he groaned breathlessly as he finally came, pushing himself as deep as he could and grinding against you for that extra bit of friction to make his orgasm last just a little longer.

When it was over, he slumped down over your body, letting go of your legs so that you could wriggle them out from under him to wrap them around his hips, a far more comfortable position for you. He felt boneless, so utterly satisfied that he would never need anything again, although he knew that was definitely not true. In about ten minutes, he’d be ready to go again.

For now, though, he was happy to just fuss over you, nuzzling into your cheek and brushing your sweaty, matted hair away from your face. “You’re so pretty,” he sighed blissfully, bracing himself over you with his elbows as he leaned down to kiss you. The urgency was temporarily gone now, and he traded soft, slow kisses with you, feeling so happy his heart could burst.

“I love you,” he blurted out unintentionally, and your eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t know where it had come from either, but now that it was out there, he realized that he meant it. No one had ever made him feel so good – not just physically, of course, but so at peace with the world. When he was with you, everything felt so right, so perfect, like you’d been made for him and he’d been made for you. If that wasn’t love, what was?

You raised your hand to cup his face, brushing your thumb across his lips. The way he looked at you, searching, hopeful, made your heart clench. Taehyung always made you feel so safe, so protected, like nothing could ever touch you. Being with him felt like being free from the difficulties of life that lay outside his bubble of protection. If that wasn’t love, what was?

Smiling back at him, you told him, “I love you too.”

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