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heliads · 1 year ago

Note

hi!! Can I request Harry Potter x f!reader, where Harry and y/n are dating and during the battle reader gets severely injured almost dead by Voldemort and Harry doesn’t know until after he defeats him he goes looking for reader but can’t find her, getting scared he goes looking for her and finds her under a pile of rubble realizing she’s about to die he uses the resurrection stone or wand to bring her back to life/heal her. Sorry if it’s really I’ve never requested before!

just read manacled so i'm desperately craving to write some hp angst so this request was perfectly timed thx anon xoxo

'someone take me home ' - harry potter

masterlist

The air is dark, choked with the ash and smoke of Harry Potter’s only true home.

Although he is not the one setting fire to the turrets, sending trolls in to demolish the stone parapets, or hurling curses through glass windows, Harry still feels responsible for the destruction. He is the one who challenged Voldemort by trying to hunt down his Horcruxes. He is the one who has brought this needless death and destruction into the castle. When Voldemort made his pronouncement that all of this fighting could cease if they would only turn Harry over to the Death Eaters, Harry had felt the weight of that guilt settle onto his shoulders like a cloak. It is his doing, all of this. He is the one to blame.

The only way he can make up for it is to end this, once and for all. If he does not kill Voldemort tonight– if he cannot end this war quickly– every life lost, every shred of memory and pride lost in the broken castle’s rubble will have fallen because he could not get the job done. Harry is responsible for everything that happens here tonight. He has to be responsible for winning it, too.

Harry is close to the end. So close. He has already died once tonight. He does not want it to happen again. For a moment there, when he went into the woods alone to meet his soon-to-be killer, armed only with a wand, a wish, and a deeply seated terror that would not leave him, Harry had not thought that he would come back. Dumbledore had not had the chance to specify that in his memories, that Harry would survive the Avada Kedavra curse for the second time in his life.

Harry had not known at all. Through Snape’s memories, he had seen that he would have to die for Voldemort to be killed, but there was no guarantee that Harry would come back. When Harry came away from the Pensieve burdened with that terrible truth, he had assumed that the blinding flash of green light would be all. When he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, he had left them thinking that he would never return. Walking away from them was horrible, the price of seven years’ worth of incredible friendship. The only thing worse than that was leaving Y/N.

Y/N L/N. Harry’s girlfriend. They started dating during their fifth year, coasting on the thrill of sneaking around behind Umbridge’s back to run the DA. He’d liked her for longer, of course, he swears half the boys his year had a crush on Y/N at least since their second winter at Hogwarts, but Harry was the one who got to keep her around. He never forgot how lucky that made him. And, leaving her behind in the ruins of Hogwarts Castle to end his life, Harry reminded himself of it then, too. Even if he was going to die, he had lived a properly good life before the moment the Killing Curse was spoken aloud. He should have no reason to mourn all of the moments he would never have when he already experienced and enjoyed so many.

To distract himself in those cold, empty woods, Harry had reached into his pocket for the small, dark stone left to him by Dumbledore in the shell of a Golden Snitch. It’s probably not wise to carry a Deathly Hallow through the Forbidden Forest in search of a Dark Lord, but Harry was, after all, headed towards his certain death, so he figured that a little bit of risk was acceptable under those circumstances. Turning the Resurrection Stone over in his pocket, Harry had let his eyes flicker closed as he thought of something– as he wished for it, more than anything, more even than he needed to be alive– and then his eyes had opened, and he had seen his parents.

His first thought was that they looked just like their photographs. They smiled at him, reaching out wispy hands to guide him onwards. Remus and Sirius had joined not soon after. It was easier to be brave when he wasn’t alone, and it must have just been his mind imagining it, because he swore that just before he emerged into the clearing containing Voldemort’s camp, Harry saw Y/N there too, smiling and calling out to him.

He just wanted to think of her one last time, that was all. It meant nothing. Y/N was alive with Ron and Hermione. The one-hour truce had probably ended by then, so they would all be fighting again, but his two best friends would keep the love of his life alive. Of course they would. He made them promise.

Harry had removed that worry from his mind, and then he had died and subsequently come back to life. When he was lying on the cold ground, when Narcissa Malfoy had bent over him and asked him as quietly as she dared if her son was still alive, Harry has to admit that he was not thinking about the good of the mission to kill Voldemort, nor how he could keep up that crusade if he stayed alive. No, he thought about seeing Y/N one more time, and so he told her that Draco was still living. Harry didn’t even know if it was a lie or not, it didn’t matter, it worked. It could be true. Harry had no way of telling if Draco had passed away. All he could do was survive, clawing inch by inch until he could make it back to the grounds of the castle and tell for certain who was dead and who was alive.

The ruse, however misguided, had worked, and then Voldemort had crowed with sickly joy and dragged Harry’s body back to the castle. Harry was forced to remain stock-still, terrified to move so much as a muscle lest he give himself away and incur a second Killing Curse.

Now he is back, back here, back in the present moment, back in the castle. Harry is alive and everybody knows it. Harry heard the cheers erupt when he flung himself away from Hagrid to stand opposite Voldemort again, but he dared not look back. One distracted glance gives Tom Riddle a chance to kill him, and Harry cannot– he will not– give himself away like that after everything. His friends need him. Y/N needs him. Harry must do this, he must win.

Harry is no stranger to dueling, both with friends and enemies. When Voldemort points the Elder Wand at Harry, the wand that technically is under Harry’s control, Harry feels the moment thrumming in his veins like a bloodlust even before his opponent casts the spell. His wand hand rises of his own volition, the spell rising to his lips by reflex alone.

Two incantations are chanted at the same time. Avada Kedavra, Voldemort shrieks across the dusty courtyard, his voice like a death rattle. Expelliarmus, Harry shouts back, his heart leaping into his chest. He has never meant a spell like this before, and he swears he never will.

For a moment, all is still, all is quiet. The Death Eaters and students alike watch with bated breath as the two spells arc across the courtyard, but then Voldemort’s bright spark of green rebounds the second it comes into contact with Harry’s, sending both tumbling towards the Dark Lord. The Killing Curse hits Voldemort, and just like that, with no pomp and circumstance, no drama befitting the one who has caused them all so much violence and grief, Tom Marvolo Riddle dies.

Harry doesn’t believe it. Truly, he doesn’t, until he forces his limbs to walk over to the body of Voldemort and stand, staring, at the corpse until he is certain it does not move again. Slowly, surely, the Death Eaters peel away, and the students and members of the Order of the Phoenix come back again, surging around him like an ocean wave, rejoicing in their victory.

Ron and Hermione reach him first, one at each side. They embrace him, half crying, half beaming. Hermione’s saying that he’s done it, he’s won, and Ron is grinning at him proudly, telling Harry that he knew he could do it. Harry waits for the fourth person to join their party, but for some reason, she never does.

Harry pulls back slightly from their embrace. “Guys,” he says uncertainly, “Where’s Y/N?”

Ron and Hermione exchange confused looks. “She was just here,” Ron says vacantly. “Wasn’t she, Hermione? I swear I saw her a minute ago. We were fighting together, then a bunch of Death Eaters split us up. I got back to Hermione as soon as I could, but–”

“But you didn’t see her?” Harry interrupts. His voice sounds harsher than he intends, but a sudden, icy panic is beginning to flood through his system, and he cannot think about anything– he will not think about anything– until he is certain that this fear is unfounded.

He looks desperately at Hermione, the reasonable one, the one who always comes up with answers in times of crisis like this one, but she shakes her head quietly. “None of us have seen her since the fighting started up again,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“No,” he says forcefully, “No, that’s not right. Y/N is alive. We just lost her in the crowd, that’s all.”

It must be true. Harry won’t look at either of them, won’t see the slow rush of guilt that’s creeping into both of their faces. Y/N has to be here. She wouldn’t just leave him like this.

Harry pushes past the two of them, fighting his way back through the crowds. He scans every face he sees, ignoring friends and professors the moment he’s sure they aren’t her. When he doesn’t see her immediately, Harry looks not at the crowds but the grounds, the walls, to see if she’s lying down somewhere. She could still be resting, or maybe she has a broken leg or something and can’t move. There is still a way that she could be alive. There is still a way that she could come back to him.

No sign of her. Harry is about to leave the courtyard and try searching somewhere else, and then he sees a hand crumpled near a pile of rubble. The hand, bloody and streaked with dust, is connected to an arm, an arm which lies limp from a shoulder, which leads to a chest which leads to a face, a face he knows, a face which is Y/N’s.

Harry is kneeling on the ground in a flash. The body of a fallen Death Eater is somewhere to the side, and Harry has the brief, proud thought that Y/N managed to kill one of them before she– He cuts himself off just in time.

Y/N seems perfectly fine by all accounts, were it not for the ash beginning to tint her face a lifeless shade. It gets everywhere, that stuff, but it won’t matter, they’ll have time to clean up later, once it is all over. It is all over, he realizes belatedly, but not quite yet. Not until she sits up again and smiles at him like she always does.

Harry waits for this to happen, for her chest to rise and fall, for any sign of movement. Nothing comes. It is only sitting here, waiting, watching for nothing, when he realizes at last that Y/N is dead. He missed his chance to save her. Y/N is dead because Harry couldn’t beat Voldemort fast enough.

The grief crashes over him in spasming attacks. He cannot lose her, not like this. It was easier to be the one dying when he knew she would go on to live a long, happy life, but this is wholly different and much worse. Y/N deserved far more than a death at seventeen. She deserved far more than Harry letting her down in this final way.

He can’t allow this to happen. Harry has killed the Dark Lord, he has freed the Wizarding World from death and destruction, he will save his girlfriend and it will be his last victory. Harry claws at his pocket for the Resurrection Stone– he almost lost it in the Forbidden Forest, but not quite, and now he has it still– and presses it with shaking hands against her heart. Harry closes his eyes and wishes with everything he has that she would come back.

He doesn’t want to open his eyelids. If it doesn’t work– he can’t look at her again, fallen and still. He stays in the darkness until someone tells him in a light voice, “You can look now, Harry. I’m alright.”

Harry opens his eyes and almost sobs again. There, sitting up, is Y/N. She smiles at him. “Don’t look so surprised. You know what the stone does, don’t you?”

“I do,” he croaks, “but– I was so afraid, Y/N. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t have to,” she whispers back. “We’ll always be together now.”

He wants this. Harry reaches forward and embraces her. He can hardly feel her hug him back, but she’s probably still injured from the fight. She’ll have to get up to the hospital wing as soon as possible, Madam Pomfrey can make her as good as new in a second’s flash.

Harry steps back so Y/N can stand up, and then he starts to lead her back through the courtyard. Ron and Hermione have caught up to him by now, and they stare at Y/N with undisguised shock.

“She’s back,” Harry says exultantly, as if they couldn’t tell that already.

Hermione nods faintly. “Harry…”

Her voice trails off. Ron lays a comforting hand on her arm, then turns to Harry. “You found her, then?”

For some reason, he doesn’t seem nearly as happy as Harry thinks the situation deserves. He’s just found out one of his best friends is alive, after all, but instead he seems as if he’s just come from a funeral.

“I did,” Harry confirms. “I’m going to take Y/N to the hospital wing now, just in case.”

Y/N nods in agreement, which makes Ron and Hermione exchange knowing glances again.

“What?” Harry asks, somewhat cross.

“Nothing,” Hermione says a little too quickly. “It’s just– Oh, Harry, you have the Resurrection Stone, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Why do you ask?”

The look in her eyes is deeply sorrowful. “You have to let go, Harry.”

He shakes his head. “What are you talking about? I just got Y/N back, I have to make sure that she’s alright.”

He moves to brush past them, but Ron holds out an arm. “Here, I’ll take Y/N to the hospital wing. How about you stay and talk to Hermione for a little longer?”

Y/N looks unhappy about this, and although Harry doesn’t quite want to be parted from her yet, he can’t technically see any problems with this, so he agrees, and watches mournfully as Y/N trails away behind Ron. She’s moving slower than usual, but again, that must be due to injury.

Hermione takes him by the arm and steers him away from the quickly burgeoning crowds. “Harry,” she begins slowly, “Do you remember what Xenophilius Lovegood said about the Deathly Hallows, about the Stone in particular? How it drove the second brother mad because his bride came back from the dead, but she was never really the same?”

“I do,” Harry says vaguely, not entirely sure what this has to do with him, “But that’s not the case with Y/N, though, she’s fine. I reckon it’s because I have the Elder Wand too, you know?”

Hermione sighs. “Harry, that’s not the Y/N you lost. She’s different. I think she’s closer to a ghost than a person.”

“No,” Harry says unsteadily, “She’s just like I remember, honestly. I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s nothing like a ghost.”

Hermione takes a slow breath in and out. She’s obviously fighting tears. “That’s because she hasn’t been herself lately, even before she– even before she died, Harry. The war has been hard on all of us, but her especially. It’s taken quite the toll on her, so much so that you would see a ghost of the girl you knew and still think it was her.”

“That makes no sense,” Harry protests, but a persistent feeling of doubt is starting to shadow his mind.

“I can prove it,” Hermione insists, and reaches into her pocket to pull out a photograph.

Harry holds it in his hands and stares. He remembers the moment this photo was taken more than he recognizes the actual people inside of it. This was one of the last days they had to themselves before the war broke out in earnest and everything went to hell. It had been in the spring, all four of them in the Gryffindor Common Room. Colin Creevey had taken the photo while they were unawares and to punish him, they’d confiscated it. Harry had no idea Hermione had held onto it, but now he’s pressingly grateful that she had.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all look the same, albeit a little younger, a little less beaten down, but Y/N– the Y/N in this photograph is nothing like the girl he’d just seen. This Y/N is vibrant, laughing uproariously at a joke one of them has just told. The version of her in the photograph turns with a start when the photo is taken, but she’s still grinning up at him, still happy. Harry feels as if a saturation charm has been cast upon the photo, it’s the only thing that would explain why she looks so bright and alive here.

Alive, unlike how she looks right now, because she isn’t. Harry had tried to bring her back, but it hadn’t worked completely. Just like in Lovegood’s story. He thinks back to the past few months and he remembers how Y/N had been, how the light had slowly drained from her. The constant running had been hard on all of them, but it was worst of all on Y/N. She was the one forever thinking of new places to go, new things to try, wearing the locket for the longest, never putting up a fight. Slowly but surely, it had coaxed the life out of her, so much so that Harry couldn’t even tell when she was just a shade he had brought back from the dead.

Hermione nods slowly, seeing that Harry understands at last. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I,” he murmurs bleakly.

“Are you going to end the enchantment?” She asks him.

Harry feels like he’s drowning, engulfed in the ash and flame surrounding him. “I will. Just– let me say goodbye first.”

“Of course,” Hermione says. “We’ll be here when you need us.”

It’s more than he can ask of her right now, both to pull him out and to support him when he’s reeling from the shock of it all. They must be devastated too, Hermione and Ron, both of them have friends here who have died in this final battle and throughout the whole war, but they’re putting him first again. He’ll never be able to thank them enough for that, but he can try.

An idea occurs to him as he walks over to Y/N. He’s still got the Elder Wand in his pocket. He hadn’t needed it for the Resurrection Stone, he hadn’t even been touching it, but maybe– just maybe–

He casts a quick summoning charm to bring his invisibility cloak over, then pulls the Resurrection Stone out of his pocket. The Elder Wand in his other hand completes the triad. All three Deathly Hallows, all together at last. Dumbledore had wondered what having all of them together might do, how one might finally become a Master of Death. He had mused once that perhaps one had to accept the inevitability of one’s own death, to brush it off and greet Death as an old friend, as the third brother had done in the tale.

Harry has done this already. Died. He accepted it then. Facing Y/N, he accepts it now. He may die from doing this, but it would be alright. Y/N deserves to live. Harry embraces his fate, whatever it may be. He has the Hallows, but he would give them up for her, he would give up anything. Even himself. He has not meant a spell like this before, except once, and he swears he never will.

There’s a sudden rush of wind around him that forces Harry’s eyes shut, just for a moment. When he opens them, Y/N is still there, but she’s a shade no longer. This time, when she surges forward and hugs him, he feels the embrace completely.

“It’s really me,” she laughs, shocked, “I don’t know how you did it, Harry, but I’m really back.”

“You promise?” Harry gasps, half choking on his own surprise.

“I promise,” she smiles.

Harry glances back over his shoulder to where Hermione and Ron are watching with dropped jaws. One look at his friends is all he needs to know at last that yes, this is real. He’s finally won. The Dark Lord is dead. His love is alive.

At last, at long last, the last of his burdens disappear into the faint light of morning. Harry Potter is free.

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry james potter #harry james potter imagines #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter oneshot #hp #hp imagines #hp x reader #hp oneshot #harry potter fanfic #harry james potter fanfic

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margotw10bis · 1 year ago

Text

Crashing On Crush. JJK 5 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 2.5k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: angst; broken heart; crying

previous ← 5 → next

You enter your apartment, take off your shoes and sit on your couch without turning the lights on, too stunned by what you'd witnessed. There must be an explanation. Maybe you didn't hear well? Or you didn't see well? Maybe Jungkook has a sister? A cousin? It can't be what you think it is, can it? As much as your heart hurts, you try to think straight. Jungkook didn't lie, he didn't use you to cheat, right? Maybe if you weren't this shocked, you'd cry. But your eyes remain dry as you pull off your phone from your pocket.

You open the Instagram app and search for Jungkook's profile. If he has a sister or a cousin this close to him, he would have posted a photo of them together. You pray for having missed it the hundred of times you have checked his profile the past few months. But you go through all the pictures and no sign of this girl. A dragger is thrown to your broken heart but this can't be. You deny the facts.

Okay, let's search for an explanation because there must be one. You call Suzi and she answers the first ring.

"Hi, Y/N, whats up?"

She sounds so cheerful, like a thousand miles from your mood.

"Hi, is Taehyung here?" You ask with a white voice

"Sure" Just by the way she says that, you know your best friend frowns with worry. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just need to ask him something"

Suzi knows you well enough to not ask questions. She knows you'll tell her when you need.

"Hello?" Tae's deep voice flies to your ear through your phone

"Hi, uhm, I just wanted to know, does Jungkook have a sister? Or a cousin quite the same age?"

"No, he doesn't, why?"

You wish you could find the courage to ask 'does he have a girlfriend?' but you don't. Maybe you don't even want to know. It's better than to have the proof he's been lying to you. But has he really? You never talked about that, he never told you that he was single. However, you both shared something so special after having sex. At least, you thought. What are you doing to do? You don't even have the energy to think and you don't even want to because the stab in your heart, in your soul is too painful.

"Just to know, thanks"

You don't know how you managed to speak with such a dry throat but you hang up quickly to not have to do it again. You stay, in the dark, thinking about nothing for hours.

This only thing that keeps you from going crazy is the little sentence you repeat over and over again in your head: 'This can't be'.

————

The next day, you have decided to put whatever you have seen aside. You are supposed to go to the Lotte aquarium with Jungkook. Maybe you could even ask about the girl during the day and he will tell you that you totally misunderstood the situation, laugh and then give you a rational explanation.

You knock on Jungkook's door at 2pm. You took the time to get ready this morning - it's not like you've slept anyway. However, you couldn't focus enough to be very sophisticated so you just put some jeans, a white t-shirt with a leather jacket on and a pair of Converses. You swipe your sweaty hands on yours jeans, waiting for Jungkook to open the door.

He does, just a few seconds later. You can say he is surprised to see you. And you are surprised too when you see him stepping outside his apartment and closing the door after him, even when he doesn't look like going out with his black sweatpants, oversize grey t-shirt and Nike slippers. This a painful sign that the girl has probably spent the night with him and is still there. You try your best not to wince at the physical pain in your heart.

"Hi, are you ready?" You ask, even if you know the answer but deny is still better than having your heart break, again.

"Hi, Y/N, I'm sorry I forgot to text you. I can't today"

"Oh, maybe we could go another day, then?"

"I don't think so"

You can't help but take a step back, just like if Jungkook has slapped you in the face. Because it does feel like it. Why does he sound so cold when he was so sweet just a few days ago? When he had sex with you?

"I-I thought..." You try to speak your thoughts but they are so all over the place you don't know what to say.

"You thought wrong" His words are as harsh as his tone. "Look, I never said I wanted something serious, sorry if I gave you this impression. It's better if we don't see each other again. You should go"

Just like that, without even giving you a glance, he enters his apartment. You stay in the hallway, speechless. It hurts so fucking bad. Your body, your heart, even your soul. Yesterday, you were ready to tell him that you loved him, and you'd fallen in love with him in just few days because he was so caring. Because of the way he looked at you with his sweet doe eyes. The way he has hugged you after you had sex. The same man who warmed up your heart with so much love has just crashed it down in a million pieces. And each piece seems to have been stabbed with his words.

You don't even know how you went home. But the second you pass the door, your legs fail you and you cry on the floor. This is so much pain because you have never loved someone that much. And the only person who can help you from drowning completely in the darkest soreness is your best friend. You dial her number but you can't speak, your throat hurts too much because of your sobs.

"Y/N?"

By only hearing your cries she already grabs her car keys.

"I'm coming, everything is gonna be okay"She tells you, quite a panic in her voice because you've never cried so much

You hope so, so much that she is right.

————

You stay for hours in Suzi's arms, crying. You can't explain why you're crying because every time you relatively calm down and try to speak a word, the pain is too unbearable and you cry again. You're so tired by the tears shaking your body that you end up falling asleep in your best friend's arms.

You wake up with puffy eyes and you pray you'll have time to make yourself look better before going to work. You already know that it'll take all of your energy to pretend nothing happened when your heart is completely mashed up.

You are sad - even beyond sad - but so angry at the same time. At Jungkook for lying to you and making you hope something. At Suzi and Taehyung for introducing you to him. At you for your stupid crush on him. You wish you'd never seen his picture on Instagram, you'd never clicked on his profile, you'd never talked to him, kissed him and fallen in love with him.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Suzi asks gently while you are struggling with your make-up. "Is this about Jungkook?"

You freeze at the name, a noticeable pain striking your heart and you wish you didn't feel the pain physically.

"Yes, it's about him" You try to focus on the mirror but you feel your eyes filling with water, again. "He-He said he doesn't want to see me anymore"

"What?!"

You look at Suzi in the mirror, she looks angry and... so fucking surprised. You lift a brow in a silence question.

"This guy is so fucking crazy, I don't understand him" She finally says after recovering her voice.

"Tell me about it" You sigh

"No, Y/N, you don't understand. I heard him talking on the phone with Tae. He said he liked you, he wanted to spend time with you... I mean, it doesn't make sense saying that to his best friend and treating you like that"

You wish her words didn't soften your heart because you shouldn't feel anything about Jungkook, even if it's about him liking you. Or pretendedly liking you.

"Well, maybe it's because Tae is your boyfriend and you are my best friend so he said that to not be an ass"

"But he is an ass"

Suzi gets closer to you and hugs you tightly. You close your eyes, appreciating how her love wraps around you just like her fragile arms.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. You don't deserve that. You are such a great person. I love you, you know that, right?"

"I love you, too Susu"

She kisses your cheeks and wipes a tear from your eye.

You are working more than usual, no taking any break and starting a new task as soon as you finish one. You have to keep yourself busy. It's the only way you'll not cry in front of everyone. That doesn't mean that your colleagues don't notice you look like shit but they are kind enough not to say anything.

You have decided you won't love ever again because it's way too painful. It's okay, you'll have a cat and you are sure Suzi or Jongseob will be kind enough to let you stay at their place when they'll be married with kids. You don't need to be loved, you just need to don't suffer like that ever again because you know you won't survive. You already know the name of the cat: Bam.

"Hi Y/N"

You startle at Namjoon's voice. You were so in your work that you didn't notice him coming at you.

"Hi" Your voice is less strong and cheerful that you hoped

"I was thinking of eating out tonight, do you want to join?" Namjoon kindly asks you.

Honestly, he has noticed how sad you were today and it did make his heart ache. Deep down, he suspects something about the guy who has eaten with you two the other day but he can't be sure and he doesn't want to push you. He is just wishing to cheer you up because yes, Namjoon is a great guy. The kind that won't hug another woman and tell her he loves her the next day after having sex with you.

In your head, an internal struggle takes place. Do you want to have dinner with Namjoon tonight? On the one hand, you know you won't be good company because you are not in a good mood to say the least. Are you selfish enough to accept when you know you will probably deprive him from a good evening after a long day of work? On the other hand, spending time with Namjoon means keeping your mind occupy and keeping your heart - relatively - sound for a few hours before going home and cry out, once again, all the tears from your body.

You decide to give him the choice because it's only fair to him.

"Are you sure? I won't be the funniest friend for the night" You try to joke but fail miserably when your laugh turns out to be more a weird snort

"I'm sure, I'll be funny for two"

You don't know what kind of magic holds Namjoon but he manages to draw a weak smile on your face. Once again, you wonder why you didn't fall in love with him rather than with Jungkook. You wouldn't be heartbroken.

————

When you knocked on his door yesterday, Jungkook was surprised to see you. He completely forgot he was supposed to see you. Well, all his life has been shaken upside down when she came back.

When he moved to Seoul five years ago, he wanted to leave his old life behind. His old demons too. He wanted to be a better man and maybe, just maybe, be happy, just once. Honestly, he thought he could be with you. When Tae just told him about you, he was skeptical: it wasn't the first time his best friend tried to introduce him a woman. But you were different. You are different. He is not going to lie, your first encounter was quite something! He can't deny that when he first saw you - or your ass to be more precise - he found you so hot. But then, when he saw you shy around him, he felt flatted that such a great woman was interested in him. He'd never thought in a billion years that someone this beautiful, funny, smart and kind could want him. But you did.

When he fucked you on his dinner table, it wasn't just sex for him. When you hugged him after you both had reached your highs, he felt loved. He almost cried of how good it felt. So he thought that, maybe if he were lucky enough, one day you could love him like he was starting to love you. He might not have starting things right with you by fucking you on his table but he was willing to rectify it by going on a date and official asking you to be his girlfriend. His first real girlfriend. He was so stressed you would say no but you were worth at least trying.

But then, she came back.

Jungkook just wanted to see Tae and ask for advice for your date. She was waiting outside his building. He was so fucking surprised to see her. He hadn't see her in years. The last time was in Busan, before he moved to Seoul to start his new life. She asked for his help. What was he supposed to do? She was his best friend. At least, she used to be. He had left her once, he couldn't do it again. Maybe it was fate: just a reminder that he wasn't good enough for you and that he'll never be. You didn't know him, you didn't know what he had done. It was better to stop everything now before you break his heart when he'd tell you about his past because there was no way you'd want him if you knew.

It was so hard and so painful to talk to you like that. To lie by saying he didn't want to see you again and that you misunderstood the signs because you were fucking right. He wanted to be with you. The pain in your eyes was unbearable, he almost told you that it was all a lie and hugged you tight to ease the pain he caused you. That's why he didn't look at you. If he had, he knew he would have given up all his good resolutions and it was too selfish. He hold on on the idea that you couldn't love him yet, it was too soon, and that you would find someone better than him. Perhaps, this Namjoon guy who works with you. His heart and fists clenched at the thought you'd be in someone else's arms, that someone else's would make love to you. He wished so much it could be him. Maybe in another life. A life he could be a good man from the start so he could be with you.

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Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for Crashing On Crush, or for all the stories :)

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts jungkook #bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #jjk #jjk x reader #jungkook #fanfic #crashing on crush

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strangersteddierthings · 2 years ago

Text

Porcelain Steve - Part 6

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Even though he's expecting company, Eddie still jumps and yelps when his front door flies open without so much as a knock, revealing Dustin and Will.

"I know I said to let yourselves in, but a warning knock would have been nice," Eddie shoots them a glare, not bothering to stand from the couch where he'd been pretending to watch whatever terrible daytime movie was playing.

"Sorry," Will apologizes sheepishly while Dustin just laughs.

"Which of your moms dropped you off? If it's Claudia, I'm filing a complaint about how you were raised."

"Har har," Dustin says, swinging his backpack off and knelling down to unzip and dig into it. "We biked here."

"Lucky you, then. The complaint will wait."

Dustin wrestles a blanket from his backpack. Unwrapping it reveals Steve, hair rumpled but otherwise unharmed. "Alright. Delivered safely. We gotta go meet El and Mike now but we'll see you on Saturday, right?"

Eddie sets Steve on the couch, angled towards the TV. "Yeah. I get the feeling if I don't show for the barbeque that Joyce will show up here and drag me there by my ear."

"She would," Will confirms with an easy shrug. The boys turn to leave before Will exclaims, "Oh! Almost forgot!" before digging into his pocket for something, turning around to give it to Eddie.

"What?"

"El and Steve spoke again. He had a lot of things to say. I spent a good portion of the last three days writing down everything as El repeated it to me. This is your letter," he says, having successfully pulled out what looked to be a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

"Oh," Eddie takes it, and realizes it's not just one folded piece of paper, but three. "Wow."

"Seems you are Steve's second favorite," Dustin grins at him from the doorway.

"You are first, I assume?"

"No. Robin is. She got five pages."

That tracks, actually. Eddie's not surprised Robin got the most pages.

Soon enough, the boys are off and Eddie returns to the couch, pulling his legs up to sit crisscross. "Alright, Stevie, let's see what you have to say."

He unfolds the pages completely and is met with Will's now familiar penmanship scrawled across the sheets of wide rule paper that has clearly been ripped from a composition notebook. He's seen Will's handwriting plenty over this last year, quickly scribbling notes during DnD sessions and on the little item cards Will makes himself to hand out when he DMs.

Will's handwriting isn't always the neatest, but this looks like Will took time, wanted his writing to be legible. Flipping through the papers he sees it is two pages, front and back, of a letter, and the third page is a list of questions in a different, neater handwriting. He gets the feeling that Will probably didn't paraphrase anything. How many people got letters? How much of Will and El's time was devoted to doing just this?

Eddie feels emotional over this, misty-eyed and a lump in his throat, and he hasn't even read the damn letter yet.

"Shit, Stevie, do you even realize how loved you are?" Eddie asks out loud, turning to look at Porcelain Steve like he might answer him this time. Blank hazel eyes stare forward. Eddie shakes his head, to clear away his thoughts, and gets to reading. Not out loud, because he doesn't want Steve to hear how wet his voice will sound.

Eddie,

I guess the first thing I want to say is thank you. I was kind of freaking out when I first woke up like this. It was calming, that day on the lawn, after Robin and Nancy found me. You were so chill and just chatted my ear off like you would have if I were, like, there. I mean, there there and not like, doll-there, if you get what I mean.

Shit, man, being stuck like this would have been a hell of a lot worse without you, I'm certain. Everyone's been great, of course, and, like, no offense meant, Will and El, but you act most normal. Helps me feel, well, I don't know how, exactly. Describing emotions is not something I'm like, good at. Robin's great, too, but she catastrophizes, you know? And since I can't speak back, she can get herself pretty worked up about this and I hate that. Hate that I can't do anything to help her.

Shit. This isn't your issue. Don't include that. No, wait, do. Sorry, El. (It is here, off in the margin, that Will has added 'I wrote everything word for word. Enjoy the asides to El and me.) Hanging out with you helps her, I think. She seems less anxious on days we spend with you. So, I guess, I also want to thank you for that. For being there for Robin when I can't.

Eddie has to pause there because he had no idea. Robin has been a grounding force for him this whole time. He had no idea he was doing the same for her. She never said, or let on... well, that was probably her goal and now Steve's spilled the beans.

This is getting easier to say, even if I still don't know how to feel about the other two people who are going to be privy to everything said, or I guess from your end, written here. (Here, Will has transcribed a conversation they seemed to have had in the middle of writing this up.) Oh. He means us. - El Yes. Don't worry Steve, we'll do our best to forget everything you've said once it's written down. - Will Steve laughed and says thanks. - El I appreciate that but- well, being honest there's some things I want to say but I don't want anyone else to hear. Those conversations are better left face to face, anyway. So, uhh, what else did I want to say?

Oh! Yeah, I told Robin she could drive around the Bimmer, so she can have a car while I'm- so she doesn't have to bike everywhere but knowing her she probably won't take me up on that offer. Maybe you can talk her into it? Or, maybe she'll be willing to drive your van around and you can take the bimmer.

"Jesus, Stevie, can't you just be okay with existing?" Eddie says it under his breath and tenses instantly. For a moment, he forgot that Steve was right there on the couch with him, could hear him. Now he has to explain himself because Steve's already heard, and without the context of how Eddie really means those words, they can sound judgmental. "Shit. Sorry. I just read the part about your car and, dude, you just don't know how to not try and be helpful, huh? I bet it's destroying you on the inside that you can't do anything. But Steve, you gotta know, we don't care about you because you're useful."

Steve, of course, can't reply, so Eddie goes back to the letter.

Uh, what else was there? Oh! Yeah! I don't get migraines here. Or, in this body? Or, whatever it is. I haven't had one since this happened. Also, no hearing issues. Though I find myself wishing to be completely deaf sometimes. I get that Max can listen to Kate Bush for a week straight, but I'd like a little variety. God, what I wouldn't give to listen to the Top 40 again. Don't say anything, Munson. I can already see your judgmental face at my music taste. Unlike you, I have the ability to like multiple types of music. The Top 40 AND that one song from, uhh, shit. Might not have migraines or hearing issues at the moment, but the memory is still as it was. Which means it is shit. That one song by that metal band where their name sounds like it's metal? You know who I mean. (In the margin, Will has just written five little question marks in a row ?????)

"The band you were thinking of, it's Metallica," Eddie says.

Not important. But, uh, the reason for telling you this. I was hoping you might smuggle me to a show the next time your band plays at the Hideout? Last time I tried to go it was too loud and gave me a migraine, you remember, but I think that I could listen to your whole show like this. We might as well take advantage of the perks of this shit situation, right? So, uh, I wouldn't mind if you did that. Or, like, had Robin or someone else bring me. Whichever.

Actually, wait, I lied, I do care which way. I've already had them pen down Robin's letter, so you'll have to pass this on, but I want Robin to take me. So, I can also watch the show, not just listen. That was the part I liked most, when I went last time, before I had to leave. Wait. Scratch that. Ask Argyle. Other than you, he seems like the only person willing to be caught holding me in public, mostly because I don't think he even knows how to be embarrassed. Jesus that was such a weird sentence to say. Holding me in public. Such a weird thing to experience, too.

Uh, anyway, I think that's it for now. Thanks for everything, Eddie.

"I think you're handling this loss of bodily autonomy rather well, Steve. This letter is a lot more positive than the one I would have written if our roles were reversed," Eddie says with a sigh. He can't help but wonder what Steve would have said in this letter if it hadn't had to be filtered through two teenagers first.

He looks to the last page, the list of questions, and is surprised to see that, mixed in with questions about which sports team is winning (he is not going to watch Sportsball for Steve. There has to be a line drawn somewhere and this is it. He will ask Wayne about it later and hate the glee he sees in his uncle's eyes because now he's going to have to pretend to like sports for the unforeseeable future) and for honest updates about their friends are questions about Eddie's campaign that he's rambled on about since Steve can't escape. Steve wants spoilers, wants to know what Eddie has planned.

Steve has actually been listening. He'd been operating on the assumption Steve just tunes him out when he gets going, unable to stop his brain to mouth filter when it comes to talking about Dungeons and Dragons and his current campaign.

"I'm at your list of questions now. I can't answer anything about sports, and don't think I'm unaware of how you asked me and not Lucas. I see what you are doing and I'm not going to fall for it. So, your first non-sportsball question here; How is Dustin doing, really? Well, that's a whole thing but overall, okay."

#steddie #my fic #porcelain steve #having steve write letters to everyone was sparked by jonathans even tho the wonder twins dont admit that #it was a passing comment when he walked in on Will explaining the difference between sorcerer and warlock to El and Porcelain Steve #just a quick 'i wonder what steve would have to say about this if he could talk'#and will and el were like! yes! what WOULD he say? El talk to him #and it evolved from there #also its not said because how would Eddie know? but the list of questions in different handwriting is Joyce's #to avoid campaign spoilers for Will‚ el asked joyce to write that part #they go through all the questions but im not writing those #this was mostly to get a little bit of Steve in here #feels weird to write a steddie fic where steve hasnt even spoken until 9k+ words into the fic #especially since i am NOT a slow burn person‚ not that i count this as slow burn #how do you define slow burn? does this count? help a girl out and let me know

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princessmaybank · 5 months ago

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could you possibly do some angsty fluff with prompt #1 for jj i’m begging

(Of course! I tried my best! Sorry it took so long, I'm not a fast writer! I hope you like it!)

Please Let Me Kiss You

Pairings: Bestie!JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Kiss

Summary: Rafe cheated on you and you ran to your best friend.

Author's Note: My first with no smut?? Crazy.

"Just get the fuck out!" Rafe yelled at me from the bed. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I can't believe what I just walked in on. "Get the fuck out Y/N!" Tears brimmed in my eyes. Rafe got out of the bed, he stood in front of me completely naked and the girl who was occupying my side of the bed, covered herself with our comforter.

A gust of wind flies past after I feel a sharp sting on my cheek. I see Rafe shaking his hand as my own reaches for my cheek gently. "Are you fucking deaf?! I said get the fuck out you stupid cunt!" He yelled in my face this time.

I picked up my purse and fled to my car. I didn't even give myself time to process, I had to leave. There was only one place I could go.

My tires crunched the gravel outside of the chateau, announcing my arrival to anyone here. I noticed JJ's bike and I saw the Twinkie, it meant at least the two dipshits were here. You could say I wasn't in the talking mood, I stormed past them in the backyard and ran to the guest bedroom, slamming everything in my way. Yes, I am mad now, but the heartache has been lingering since I saw her car parked in my fucking driveway.

It was too late when I realized I didn't lock the door, because a certain blonde barged in. "hey, hey what's wrong mama?" JJ asked as he took a seat next to me.

I couldn't even compose myself to respond, I simply threw myself in his arms and sobbed on his shoulder. His hand tangled in my hair while shushing me and rocking me back and forth in his lap.

We have been sitting here for nearly 30 minutes and not once has he tried to stop soothing me. His lips met my forehead many times as he ran his hand up and down my back.

"Are you okay Y/N?" Those were the first words spoken in that 30 minutes. I shook my head 'no' against his chest. "Please tell me what's wrong..I hate seeing you like this.." His words tore into my chest and shattered my heart. I sniffled and wiped my tears away when I pulled back from him. "I'm not good enough Jay... I've never been good enough and I never, will be good enough.." Tears started spilling down my cheeks again as I spoke nothing but the truth. "what...?" He questioned almost like his heart broke. His words sounded more venomous as his sentence continued. "what did he do?" "Nothing don't worry about it Jay.. I'm just upset..." I quickly shot him down. I know how protective my best friend can get. "Y/N. Don't bullshit me. What did he fuckin' do to you? Did he hit you?!" He asked. Without thinking, my body reacted and began to get ready for my mouth to say 'no', but it never happened. Rafe had never laid a hand on me until today. I nearly forgot. "uhm.." Is all I could mutter. His eyes went dark as he set me aside on the bed. "I'm gonna fucking kill him." He stomped towards the bedroom door. Before he could reach the handle, I grabbed his hand, making him whip his head towards me. "Please don't leave me.." I whimpered, tears brimming my eyes. "I-I won't.." He rushed back over to me and wrapped his around around me, allowing my head to sit on his stomach. JJ knew exactly how to calm me down. He always played with my hair and shushed me in a sweet way.

"Y/N.." he started, sitting next to me on the bed. "..please tell me what happened." JJ grabbed my hand in his and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. "R-Rafe..." Was all I could say before tears spilled. He squeezed my hand urging me to continue. After the next breath I took, I spilled everything onto JJ. He was a mess of emotions as well, mostly anger and resentment for Rafe, but I wasn't expecting to see sadness from him. He looked at me with tear stained cheeks. "I'm so sorry that happened to you Y/N." He said and pulled me into his arms. We sat there in silence again, yet more comfortable. A few minutes pass before JJ pulls me to look at him. He wraps his first finger and thumb around my chin, forcing my eyes to stare into his. He looked so hurt. "Y/N.." he paused to grab my hand with his free one. "please let me kiss you..." He paused again, my heart thumped against my chest. "so for even just a few seconds you know how beautiful you are. so you know you are worthy of the love you bring to others.." His voice cracked in the middle. He was as broken as I am. Before I could think about it I nodded my head and JJ leaped at the opportunity. His hand was now caressing my cheek as his lips slowly met mine. The kiss was supposed to be small, meaningless even..but it felt so passionate, it felt right. JJ pulled away and looked at me again. "He never deserved you, you are way too good for him, Y/N/N." I smiled at JJ as he wrapped his arms around me. We sat there and cuddled until we couldn't anymore.

#princess jade's 1.5k celebration #1.5k followers #outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx fic #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts

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tmuse-ac · 1 year ago

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How do rose swap! Y/N and Moon meet? How did Y/N meet sun and Eclipse?

What does Y/N think of the Celestial trio?

OH! What a great question and I was in the middle of drawing something that relates to this question when I got this ask, so it's your lucky day! And lucky for me too: STORY TIME and INFO DUMP!

get your tea ready mates, LONG POST!

Out of the three, you meet Moon first when they get hired as a security guard to help Vanessa take care of the place. She immediately signs up Moon to patrol the daycare section, including the main entrance (even though that's technically not part of the daycare), the Daycare Theater, and under it. Vanessa very much finds you annoying because you would follow and talk to her any chance you got since you get bored of cleaning. Moon's take away from his meeting with you is that you remind him of his friends: excitable but sweet. Vanessa doesn't mind if they keep you company as long as Moon's makes sure that you don't bother her. Moon likes talking to you :)

Then time flies a tad and you're finally able to meet Sun! He is able to get a job as your assistant as you and Fazbear Entertainment have been getting many complaints about your uncleanliness as well as your creepy appearance and nature, staring into the abyss while thinking about your new favorite human.

You remember being told a lot of Moon's roommate. Mostly rants about how they never sleep properly because they've been trying to get college work done in and then staying up the rest of the night to clean every spot in their apartment. Moon told you that he hopes by Sun getting this job that they can work on getting a proper schedule.

You were very excited to him so when he arrives on his first day, bright and early at 6 am with Vanessa and Moon guiding him in, you are very quick to give a pleasant hello! Unbeknownst to you, Moon also talked to Sun and Eclipse about you too! Sun was very surprised to find that you are much taller than he thought, and he doesn't know what to think about how that makes him feel. He finds many things you both have in common... and some things that you don't. All around he finds you as a pleasant rock to talk to and be friends with much to your happiness for a new friend and another favorite human!

You're hugger, by the way. You have to make sure Vanessa doesn't catch you since you're technically not allowed to touch staff at all. You were so excited however that you completely forgot Vanessa was one of the people who escorted Sun to meet you and nabbed them up right away. Sun was very surprised but didn't mind too much.

Now onto Eclipse! You meet him much later than the other two as well as during a time when he didn't work for Fazbears. Even though you looked pristine, on the inside you were very messy and ragged. You tried the best you could, but often would forget. Sun and Moon noticed pretty quickly and when trying to bring you to Parts and Service to get fixed, you were quick to decline, run, or hide. They decided to see if you would be up to trust their friend Eclipse, who is a great mechanic and is very close in getting their degree in robotics. You were hesitant but agreed. You were glad you did, because you made another great friend, and they became another one of your favorite humans!

Eclipse definitely finds you interesting because of your AI and all about "human-ness" that Fazbears has been able to create. From a friend standpoint, however, they adore you and took to you much faster than the other two. He also absolutely loves that he can finally look up at someone when talking to them.

Here's something from some point in the nearer future when Fazbears grabs Eclipse up before their rival in the west could.

I hope you enjoyed this info dump because again, I love giving them :)

#roleswap!au #petrixmuse art #petrixmuse answers #sun fnaf #moon fnaf #eclipse fnaf #ruin eclipse #the daycare attendant #sun x reader #moon x reader #eclipse x reader #dca au #fnaf sb au #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin

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days-until-burnout · 2 months ago

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idk if you still take requests, but the Joel intro of the week literally was “I’m addicted to Eefo …’s frog game”. So Much potential like I just had to say it somewhere and you can’t stop me.

i... i forgot the etho part. joel is addicted to the frog game. the grind never stops. he can eefo late. frog game now. men are temporary, frog game is forever _____

📧 Day 83 -

Characters - Etho + Joel Words - 946 Time - 35 mins Content - Hermitcraft

Joel manages a total of two hours of work, mostly stripping then chopping wood before he grows antsy—hopping to get around, shifting weight from foot to foot, looking to the sides as he moves about—

He knows, he knows it's getting bad, very bad in fact, because his ax breaks and he is left staring at his empty hand, the broken bits of his ax littering the ground now. His good ax, maxed out with enchantments and for sure he knew it had been more than fifty percent in durability. And yet—

And yet—

Rapidly, he shoves the logs into his inventory to transport to the nearest storage. Some barrels along the walls of his stairs, not optimal or even smart, but he drops the logs into them carelessly, dashing up with a lighter inventory.

Atop the stairs, a rocket explodes before he properly secures his elytra, taking some damage but still taking off the ground. He glides down a little to situate himself, and soon enough, he is breaking rockets to fly to the shopping district, recklessly checking his comms. The feed is most filled with conversations, chatter he doesn't care about with the sporadic death message—luckily, none familiar.

He finds the arc and swoops in, dragging dirt and dust inside as the soles of his boots drag on the ground. He slides to a stop right in front of the payment spot, not even sparing a second look at the boot-drag marks under him, gaze instantly latching to the highscore banners above the game's entrance before looking to the entrance.

The sigh of relief he lets out is too loud, and it's a very clear sign of his addiction.

But Joel doesn't have time for introspection, because he flicks his inventory up, grabbing the spare change diamonds he had set aside that morning. For this, a couple laps, just to distract himself. He swears he will get back to work after, he just needs a couple runs, beat his own highscore and everyone else's.

It will be quick, he says, eyes fixed on the pot.

Just as he goes to deposit the diamond, a hand jumps to grab his wrist, yanking it up slightly. Joel looks heartbroken immediately before his body kicks into motion, yanking his limb back as he turns to yell at whoever—

"Etho?"

"Joel."

He blinks a couple times, anger shifting to confusion back to anger, "Why'd you do that for?! Don't you want the diamonds? Let me—"

"You were here two hours ago," Etho near hisses, and there is something that flies over Joel's head. Because how dare Etho! Doesn't he want the diamonds? Doesn't he want people playing his stupid game? Joel glares at him, Etho's own eyes sharpen.

"So? I need a break. You can't tell me how I take my breaks. Any—"

Abruptly, Joel's words cut with a yelp as his body moves away from the entrance. His mind takes a second to comprehend before he gives in and trips along as Etho pulls his elsewhere. Down the steps near the entrance, opposite the actual froglight ship, then he's landing on something semi-soft.

Etho.

He sputters and tries to jump free, arms quickly tight around his stomach, holding him in place. Normally, he is much stronger than Etho, but, well, he'd been neglecting himself in favor of… Yeah. He knows it's bad.

Etho lays sideways on his boss chair, legs kicked on the armrest, back against the other. At first, Joel sits on his lower stomach and pelvis, then squirms himself onto his stomach which Etho doesn't even seem to mind. It takes a bit longer, a couple minutes of fussing because Joel realizes Etho isn't even trying to hold him down.

Joel is just weak.

The realization dawns on him and horror washes over him.

"Are you done yet?" Etho asks, his tone the vocal equivalent of an eye-roll. Joel stills, dropping his head into his lap, utter defeat.

Etho sighs before he sits up a little, Joel falling against his legs and not even fighting it. His cheek presses against Etho's knee before being nudged to change positions, which he does—well, more like Etho moves him around like a ragdoll, because he disconnects from his body for a moment as his mind rebuffs.

When he blinks, grounded now, he is facing Etho. Etho still sitting across on the chair, and now Joel too. Sitting on his pelvis against, leaning back on Etho's legs. His right leg is tucked between Etho's side and the backrest, the other on the floor. Etho has his left arm behind his head, right hand flimsily holding Joel's, simply watching him and just…

"I want to play," he says quietly, almost pouty and whiny.

Etho rolls his eyes, and Joel can see it this time, "Nah, it's broken."

"No, it's not."

"It is."

"No."

Etho raises a brow, and Joel realizes how stupid it is to argue with the game's owner. But he is stubborn.

But he is also very tired.

"Fix it."

"Later."

"Now."

Etho hums, then brings his left arm to his abdomen, comms appearing in his hand. The conversation cuts short when Etho pays Joel no attention, scrolling through his feed, uninterested. And Joel can leave, Etho is no longer holding him down or back, and he could leave and see if the game is actually broken. He knows it can't be, because he was here just two hours ago and everything was fine.

It could've broken right after, maybe?

Joel finally exhausts himself thinking when it could've happened, and Etho only spares a huff and a smirk as he falls against the backrest.

_____

can you pinpoint the point in the story where i lost the plot because it happened

#hermitshipping #smalletho #boat boys #ethoslab #smallishbeans #day 83

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stellewriites · 1 month ago

Text

wip wednesday

dog meat snippet since i forgot last week. hell of a lot of peacocking from all sides below lmao

soapgaz x reader

"bonnie?" your head whipped up at the familiar voice and you smiled automatically at johnny and kyle as they made their way over.

"mind if we join you?" kyle asked, already pulling out a chair at your eager nod, ignoring the deep frown on elliot's face.

"and you are?" elliot asked rudely, looking between the two men.

"this is johnny and kyle, the couple i told you about last night." you laid a gentle hand on elliot's forearm.

"oh, the wine tasters. right."

"heard you were busy saving yer boss' arse yesterday," johnny said with a pinched smile. "yer bonnie wife didnae mention what ye did though?"

"i work for a powerful man looking after his money," elliot explained vaguely, with an air of condescension.

you noticed kyle wave over a waitress and quietly order for both him and johnny, his palm settled firmly on johnny's thigh beneath the table.

"oh aye? tha's a lotta responsibility then. no wonder yer always looking so stressed on yer phone, johnny laughed.

"oi, be nice, john," kyle scolded, but the smile teasing the corner of his lips took away any bite the reprimand held.

"sorry, uh, emmet, was it?"

"elliot," you corrected quickly.

johnny snapped his fingers and nodded. "right, right. sorry, my memory's not what it used to be." he waved at a rough scar at the side of his head.

"so how long have you two been together?" kyle asked as their drinks arrived. you saw elliot sniff at the vast amount of sugar kyle poured into his tea.

"five years," you answered at the same time elliot answered, four years. you turned to him with a frown. "we've been married for two. we met before your promotion, remember?"

"are you sure, darling?" elliot asked.

"yes, elliot. i'm sure."

kyle and johnny watched silently, eyebrows raised until you turned back to your croissant with a tense jaw.

"time flies 'n all that," johnny said, hoping to ease your tension.

"right." you nodded. "what about you guys? been together long?"

"time flies "n all that," johnny said, hoping to ease your tension.

"right." you nodded. "what about you guys? been together long?"

"been stuck with him for a decade now," kyle huffed, patting his hand on johnny's leg.

"been blessed by me, more like, cheeky sod," johnny muttered.

you laughed as kyle leant in to kiss his cheek obnoxiously. "met in the forces, just clicked."

"been together ever since i caught him starin' in the showers," johnny boasted with a grin.

elliot shifted uncomfortably in his chair and johnny's grin dropped minisculely and his eyes hardened.

it’ll be dead dove, mind the tags on the masterlist post and the separate chapters - both chapters out this weekend!

#everyone ignore the fact i posted the first chapter by accident lmao here’s a snippet of it instead #wip wednesday #soapgaz x reader #soapgaz

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female-malice · 1 year ago

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I forgot to tell you guys that I observed a juvenile crow and her mama yesterday. And it was amazing. One of my favorite things I've ever seen.

The juvenile crow was full grown. She was the same size as her mom. She was aggressively following the mom around. Any time the mom would fly off, the juvenile would follow. And she'd land clumsily almost on top of the mom. And she'd go "wah wah wah feed me feed me feed me." She had her beak open and she was flapping her wings in a wimpy way. It was the same motions and sounds you'd see baby birds make. But this was a full grown juvenile crow which made it very comical.

Crows aren't very strict parents. They're not very good at cutting off their children and forcing them to be independent. They're pushovers who spoil their children. This crow mom was absolutely feeding her full grown juvenile offspring. So I went out and gave the crow mom peanuts to help with this task of spoiling this teenage crow. She quickly gathered all the peanuts I gave her. And I got to see her feed her "baby" multiple times. Meanwhile the "baby" is completely useless. She's not even watching how the mom gathers peanuts. This "baby" crow just had her head raised up to the universe, beak open, wings weakly flapping. "Feed me feed me." And the mom was doing all the work communicating with the human and gathering peanuts. And then flying to the full-grown "baby" and feeding her. After about 5 minutes of this, the mom flew off and the "baby" followed.

But it was incredible because observing this helped me understand certain crow behaviors I'd seen countless times before. It's something that looks like "crow tag." Usually, there's a crow couple sitting peacefully on a tree. Then another adult crow flies in and lands right next to one of the members of the couple. The newcomer makes a wimpy flapping motion with her wings and goes "wah wah wah." This is a softer more high-pitched cawing than the usual caw. The crow couple sits and watches this for about 15 seconds. And then the crow couple flies to the adjacent tree. And the newcomer follows them and does it again. So the crow couple flies back to the first tree. Back and forth.

Now I think I understand this "crow tag" interaction better. This is one of the crow couple's adult children greeting them.

For humans, the sound "ma" is often one of the first sounds we make. So we refer to our mothers as "ma." For crows, that hungry "wah wah wah" routine is the first sound they make. So of course they refer to their parents that way.

And crow parents greet their adult children by flying away. "Adult child, I have no food for you." And then they fly off. That's what any decent bird is supposed to do. And crows know that. They just can't bring themselves to commit to it the way other birds do. When they fly off, they just fly to the next tree, or sometimes only the next branch over.

"wah wah wah" – parents fly to the next branch – "wah wah wah" – parents fly to the next branch – "wah wah wah" – parents fly to the next branch – "wah wah wah"

It becomes like a game. I've seen them play this game for 20 minutes straight.

But today was the first time I've seen a crow parent who was just a complete sucker. She was just like "okay I will feed you of course my baby." She couldn't resist feeding her child who definitely looked full grown to me. This mama crow is a crow I can regularly identify because she's missing a tail feather. She's a bit of a weirdo. Somehow it doesn't surprise me that she has an alternative parenting approach.

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hauntedparadisebandana · 3 months ago

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Another day, another assassin's creed hc (I'm trying to feed you guys this week)

Crazy enough, this one isn't about Desmond, but Shaun. I hc that Shaun likes to pick up new languages like Pokémon cards. It's one of his strong points and is fairly easy for him. He likes the sound and feeling of different words rolling off his tongue and how nice it sounds, which leads me to hc he has a mild case of echolalia or synesthesia.

In many instances while working, he'll listen to Desmond in the background, talking to himself in a different language. Shaun will then mumble the words to himself, repeating them under his breath while his eyes remain glued to his screen. He loves the way it sounds in his mouth, pure satisfaction. It would be weird to think of, a strong, smart, head-on guy like him to do that. He's been looked at weirdly by the others once or twice, being caught whispering to himself. He makes the excuse that he's simply trying to remember information.

Rebecca thinks it's just this funniest thing ever. Laughing when she finds out about it, determined to catch it for herself. One bright early morning, Shaun is already in the kitchen making coffee. The others trickle in soon after, and Desmond enters a bit later, mumbling in Italian.

"Care for a cup, Desmond?" He inquires, sliding a hot cup across the counter for him.

"I should probably start writing the shopping list for this week- ah, yes, grazie."

"Grazie," Shaun silently whispers into his cup, taking a sip. His face then curls up in disgust, he forgot the creamer. He makes quick work of getting some so his cup won't go cold. He glances up at the others for a moment, surprised when he sees Desmond with narrowed eyes, Rebecca sneering in the back, and Lucy chuckling quietly.

The silence and stares causes his skin and face to flush and go hot.

"And just why are you guys staring?" He lowers his brows, hand on his hip.

"Dude, we just caught you. Why do you do that? You know, repeat what he says." Rebecca's question puts him on the spot. Her eyes scrutinizing him.

"Yea, now that I think about it, I have seen you whispering to yourself after I talk. I thought I was just crazy." Desmond turns on his heels, walking back over to the counter where Shaun stands frozen in place.

He begins to talk and nothing comes out, his skin feeling prickly, no words leaving his mouth because he does know, well... maybe. But It would be weird to explain why he does it.

"It seems like echolalia," Lucy proclaims, "Maybe it just feels good to say, or it could be synesthesia."

"Echo... synesthe... what?" Desmond raises a brow.

"Echolalia is the repetition of words, phrases, or sounds. Synesthesia is when the brain basically routes sensory information through multiple different senses. So you'll experience more than one sense at the same time, get it?"

"Ah, ok."

Rebecca's hand flies to her phone, quickly looking up what this... echolalia and synesthesia is in further detail.

"mumble" common in speech development, "mumble" verbal stim "mumble" can occur in people with certain conditions "mumble" adhd "mumble" autism.... yada yada. Well, Shaun's speech is way past the development stage, and he's not autistic. Maybe he's just weird." An evil smirk crosses her face.

"YOU PISS OFF REBECCA!"

"Please don't get him worked up." Lucy mutters with an eye roll.

#assassin's creed #please tell me someone sees my vision #desmond miles #shaun hastings #ac #ac2 #assassins creed #echolalia #adhd things #lucy stillman #i love them #my headcanons #synesthesia #hcs #assassin's creed 2 #cuties #rebecca crane

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its-actually-minicika · 2 years ago

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The Yule Ball

(HotD Hogwarts!AU)

Part 1 of 3;;

Warnings: Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy; slight yandere Jace and Aemond (you'll be able to tell that better in part 2); angst if you squint; fluff, spice and everything nice

Pairings: Aemond x Reader, Aegon x Reader, Jacerys x Reader

Word count: 13k+ (not proof-read)

How would HotD's Main Three (Aemond, Aegon, Jace) ask you out to the Yule Ball? Would they even gather the courage to do so, before it's too late?

╰┈➤ In this fic, you're a daring Gryffindor, navigating your 5th year at Hogwarts. For the sake of this AU, Aemond (Slytherin) is your best friend, Jace (fellow Gryffindor) is utterly in love with you and Aegon (Hufflepuff) is that emotionally unavailable pervert whom you've befriended... though you're not quite sure why.

Christmas was a time to be celebrated at Hogwarts, both by muggle-born and pure-blood alike.

This year, the latter had been most excited, as the Headmaster announced the on-going preperations for the Yule Ball, a grand festivity that took place once every 4 years, all in honour of the Triwizard Tournament.

The buzzling happiness of the students was palpable: the nervousness of the girls and the slight waver in their voices. The boys, either completely unaffected by the notion of a partner or just as spent on the lingering question plaguing everyone's thoughts... 'So... who will you go with?'

The older students stricking their claim, the younger girls seducing away to secure an invitation...

(Y/N) decided then and there that she had never seen a crowd so colourful, so full of life.

It was around dinner-time when the impetuos doors of the Great Hall opened wide, and through them stepped - or rather, flied - in Jeremiah Blythe, a 6th year Ravenclaw with nothing to lose. Revealing a cage full of Pixie Faeries from underneath his robes, he set the little toublemakers free, still atop his broomstick.

All of them, as if practicing for weeks, flew in different corners of the room, revealing a shimmering banner, engraved with sparks and magical fire, reading the daring proclamation: 'You Should Dance Only With Me'

"Mary Bone, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" Breathless, the male looked down at the object of his adoration, who, by that point, long forgot all about her mashed potatoes.

"My God, yes! Yes, Jeremy, of course!"

The hall erupted in roaring applause, whistles and yelled out 'Congratulations!' to the happy couple. As they were busy kissing away, (Y/N) gleefully turned her head in the direction of her friend, giggling slightly.

"I feel bad for the guy who's gonna pop the question next! It's pretty hard to beat that flammable display." She laughed softly, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'd rather sympathize with the one who has to catch those faeries afterwards." Aemond hummed in a monotous tone. His eye quickly scanned the joyous face of his friend's, feeling a pang of fondness, before setting his attention on Otto Hightower, the Head of house Slytherin.

The greying man was all but yelling out at the two reckless students, settling on glaring daggers into their throats and proclaiming with a tumultuous voice: "30 points from Ravenclaw. And 30 from Hufflepuff."

A loud groan shook the Great Hall to the core - Aegon, now with his robes in a twist, looking at his grandfather in pure disbelief. (Y/N) offered him a compassionate look, shrugging her shoulders.

... At least Otto Hightower didn't shy away from punishing everyone equally in his own way. Even the house of his eldest grandson.

Once more, the girl's eyes caught a glimpse of silver hair. She wanted to keep talking to Aemond - the last hectic weeks in their schedules allowing little time for idle chatting. And... of course, the ball...

Before she could think of anything new to say, Aemond threw his leather bag over his shoulder.

"You're leaving already?"

"Mm, I have a paper due in Potions." Eyeing her sheepishly, running a hand past the nape of his neck, the taller boy paused, before opening his mouth once again.

... But just as he was about to add something more, a deep voice cut through his trail of thought.

"Hey there, (Y/N)!" Jacerys' velvety voice rang in her ears. As she spun around in her seat, the girl's eyes lit up, "Jace! It's good to see you!"

The brown haired boy plopped down next to her, quickly placing his hand over his heart, feigning hurt;

"Where were you today? We missed you at practice."

'The Quiddich field', the girl remembered, guilt seeping into her pores. She had promised Jace to be there. But after bumping into Aemond, she completely lost track of time.

Furrowing her brows in a twist, she aired out apologetically, "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot...! I'll make it up to you guys."

Jace's face broke into a boyish smile, one that couldn't help but make (Y/N) blush. The Velaryon gently placed his hand above her hair, patting her down gently.

"Don't fret! I figured something must have stopped you."

Or rather someone. As if on cue, Jace's eyes left (Y/N)'s lips, traveling up, up to meet the lilac gaze of Aemond. Still looking at him with a quirked brow, he muttered to her softly. "Though, if you really want to make it up to me..."

His eyes glimmered with mischief.

'I can think of just the way.' he wanted to say. To finally ask the burning question, that stuck so well to his throat all those weeks ago. The very same question he knew Aemond wanted to ask as well.

"You help me out with that horrible Herbology homework tonight, and we call it a truce. Deal?"

Alas, he settled on what he could bring himself to get. Jace would grow to curse himself for not asking (Y/N) to the Yule Ball that eve - yet the immediate satisfaction of stealing her away from the company of that Targaryen brute was enough to quell his momentary thirst.

(Y/N) smiled at him softly, nodding decidedly, before turning to Aemond. If he also had a paper for Potions class, then maybe they all could --

But Aemond was nowhere to be seen.

"Huh...? Jace, did you see where Aemond left?"

The boy clenched his jaw in irritation of the name, but otherwise remained poised; smiling politely at his friend and shaking his head with furrowed brows, he moved his warm hand from her head to her shoulder.

"Sorry, (Y/N). Must've just gone back to his Common Room."

Defeated, the girl whisked her head around. She tried her very best to catch the reflection of his familiar white hair, but was unable to discern anything else besides Aegon's locks.

As if he could feel her eyes boring holes into his back, his mellow gaze met the one of (Y/N). He raised his glass of fermented wine to his face, gingerly nodding his head with a slight smirk and chugging it all in one gulp.

"You must be right."

Was that... disappointment that she felt? Mixed with some slight irritation, surely - Aemond could have at least told his goodbyes before disappearing like that.

Inhaling sharply, the pale girl nudged Jace's side playfully. "What do you say? Are you free to take care of that homework now?"

Maroon eyes swirled with gratitude. While nodding fevereshly, Jace took both his and (Y/N)'s backpacks, insisting on carrying them himself towards the vacant library.

For the hundreth time that evening, (Y/N) had to stiffle a yawn.

Her and Jace had finally wrapped up that dreadful essay - and if it weren't for the late hour, the two would have celebrated how well it actually turned out.

... Instead, they had sluggishly returned to the Gryffindor dorms.

'Madam Tyrell has to give you an <O> for it.' the girl had told him excitedly, 'It's gotta be our best work yet!'

Jace merely laughed at that, boring deeply into (Y/N)'s heart. The lights erupting from the crackling fire of their Common Room danced across his handsome face, leaving intricate shadows in their wake - each accentuating his masculine features.

With his ears of a red tint, the boy managed to utter out; 'We... We should get some rest. Tomorrow we have that DADA midterm.'

Groaning at the thought, the pair rose up from their armchairs, bidding eachother a sweet good night.

A deep grumble abruptly stopped (Y/N)'s recollection of events.

By Merlin's beard, it was past witching hour. But she was really, really hungry.

The girl slipped out of bed carefully, doning on her white slippers. She threw a singular look over her shoulder, taking in Baela's and Rhaena's sleeping faces, sucking in a breath.

Her visit to the Kitchens would be a short one - it might take a while for her to get to her own bed again, but she could still get at least 3 hours of sleep. And she'd survived on way less during her 4th year's finals season.

Before she knew it, she was past the entrance of her Common Room and well into the open. Giving The Fat Lady a small wave and whispering a quick 'Lumos' underneath her breath, she made her way down the intricate set of stairs.

As predicted, it wouldn't take long for her to slip through the cracked door of the Kitchen. Lit only by a tiny candle, the wooden work space felt utopic.

(Y/N) sighed at the comfort of solitude, grateful for the peace and quiet that the sacred space provided. Her sharp eyes scanned her surroundings, stopping on the cradle of cold milk by the stove.

She slowly approached it, her shaky hand pouring herself a generous glass. Bringing the pure nectar to her lips, she let out a low hum of satisfaction.

Now, where was that food?

Before she could even place her glass back down, a strong pair of arms engulfed her by the waist.

A sudden yielp pertruded from her rosy lips - the Gryffindor spun around with great ferocity, heart hammering in her chest; there was no way someone just touched her like that and imagined there'd be no consequences.

But before she could empty the contents of her glass in the eyes of her attacker, a velvety laugh escaped his lips.

"I believe what you're looking for is in the oven."

Aegon.

"Didn't your mommy teach you never to touch a girl like that?" A bemused smile threatened to seer through (Y/N)'s lips. Eyebrow now quirked, she pushed the 7th year away from her body.

His hands gingerly let go of her waist, though not before circling once, twice, thrice over her hips - the warmth of them, like a scorching fire against her covered skin.

It took all the girl's might not to cringe at the contact. What was it with Targaryens and their ridiculously high body temperature?

"What are you doing here?" She finally asked, voice hoarse, breaking the silence.

His dilated pupils burned holes in her skull, returning the favour she made him at dinner. Aegon took great pleasure drinking in her delicate features, swearing to himself to forever engrave them to his memory. Finally, he graced her with a reply.

"Same as you, right? To grab a bite."

Stroking her side once more in an attempt to slowly move her to the left, the eldest of the Targaryen brothers opened the oven in front of him, revealing a cold pumpkin tart.

"The Gods provide." He whispered in the girl's ear, letting out a snicker once confusion darted across her face. "Once you come here often enough, you learn where to find the actually good stuff."

Grunting in reply, (Y/N) sat down on the kitchen counter, waiting for Aegon to cut her a slice.

The two stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, before the male finally placed a hefty slice in her open palm.

"So." He began dryly. "Are you Gryffindor girls just as crazed for the Yule Ball as the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws?"

He was making an allusion to earlier that day: when Jeremiah's display of affection had cost both Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs 30 points.

Wincing slightly, (Y/N) took a bite of the sweet tart, mulling her answer over.

"I suppose everyone is excited in a way. And more or less desperate for a partener. Though I think that's stupid."

"You think not wanting to go alone is stupid?"

"I think that going with someone has potential to be nice. But it's not the end of the world if you are to go alone." (Y/N) shrugged, scooting closer to the wall.

Aegon got up from his chiar, strutting closer to the cup of milk. Pouring himself a glass nonchalantly, he tutted, amused.

"I think it's one thing for a blooke to go alone. For a girl, it's just sad."

"You really think that?" The girl asked, bewildered by such a decided sentiment.

Aegon didn't miss a beat: "What I think is that you're trying to fool yourself cuz you've got no one to go with."

A teasing smirk tugged and twisted at his features. The silver haired man looked at you expectantly.

He wanted you to bite down on his challenge.

"Are you projecting your own situation?" She tried her best to stay lax, denying him entrance to her deepest thoughts.

Aegon let out a shuddering laugh. "I've had girls come to me like a flock of chickens to their cock."

(Y/N) scrunched her nose at that crude remark, but settled on rolling her eyes instead of matching him with a retort.

"No, sweet (Y/N), I'm definitely not projecting."

"Be that as it may, I still stand by my words. You don't need a partener to have fun at the dance."

"The fox that doesn't get to the grapes always says they're sour..."

"Quit insiunating I've got no one to go with! What's your obsession with that, anyway?" She finally snapped, but regretted her words almost instantly, as Aegon's smile spread even wider, if that was truly possible. Turning on his heel to look her straight in the eye, he pushed his hands near her body's sides, caging her in.

"So she does care, after all."

"I really don't."

"Little poor (Y/N) (L/N), the only girl in her year with absolutely no one who loves her." Slowly quirking his head to the side, Aegon continued. "How does it feel to know you are absolutely lonely?"

A loud slap echoed throughout the room. The sting in (Y/N)'s hand and the red pigment blossoming in Aegon's left cheek all but directly confirmed what had happened. Eyes wide, staring at each other, the sheen of tears in the ones of the fierce lioness.

"How dare you." She more so pointed out than asked.

"The bitch has bite to her." Aegon snarled, rubbing his high cheekbone. "Someone better put a muzzle on that haughty mouth, too."

Having finally heard enough, with nothing else to add to a losing battle, (Y/N)'s legs swung from the counter; soon, she was putting as much distance from her body and Aegon's as humanly possible.

Jerking the back door open, she turned around once more to face her midnight opponent.

"I'd rather have no one to go with, than have to pay for the company I indulged in as you do."

Now finally set off as well, the eldest Targaryen yelled after her fleeting footsteps.

"You know, I would take you there myself if you weren't so bloody proud!"

"Go be benevolent with someone else!"

She could still feel the scorching heat of his hands on her.

The following day had passed, uneventful as all the rest, until dinnertime rolled around.

(Y/N) hastily made her way to the Great Hall, having already been late to the meal by quite some time. She couldn't find Aemond anywhere, neither Jace, Baela or Luke. She didn't dare look for any trace of Aegon, as the wounds from last night didn't yet have time to heal.

Where in the world had everyone ran off to? From the moment of her wake, throughout all her classes... it was as though her friends evaporated in thin air.

No matter, she would not eat alone that day. Gestured to take a seat by Borya Moore, the handsome Durmstrang student that eyed her up since his arrival at Hogwarts, the 5th year girl smiled at him tightly.

He was a charming boy, (Y/N) concluded, while side eyeing him during the fast break; Russia's golden boy, they called him, the champion of their respective school.

Tall, well built, with the greenest of eyes and the blackest of charcoal locks. Indeed, the older male was quite a sight to see.

He was smiling at her politely, talking to her in a gruff voice, laced with a strong accent. He sometimes recieved swift nudges from his surrounding classmates: what was on his mind was clear; and it was not original. All the same, a warm feeling crept it's way within (Y/N)'s chest.

As stated before, Borya was a handsome young man - and he was said to be proud, just and honest to a fault, though never cruel or unattentive.

Although his words were scattered few and far between, he was a good listener and seemed very interested in what the girl had to say.

"Are you excited about the next trail?" (Y/N) asked him, while playing with a piece of bread. Her eyes never raised from her plate, but she could feel his emerald hues running all across her face.

"Yes, excited to win it." The male let out a mirthled laugh, shaking the whole table with him. "Though, I am even more so for the ball."

"I can imagine that!" (Y/N) hummed with a small smile. "You'll have to open with a dance, right? Are you not nervous about that? Or... do you simply like the attention?"

Borya gave her a subtle wink, his hand making a wide gesture at the surrounding tables. Satisfied with her confused face, he quickly clarified:

"I would not think them trained enough to judge my dancing. All of us are here for a good time - trust me when I say, we'll manage the dance just fine."

... 'We'?

His obvious proposition of dancing together reddened your cheeks; but before the conversation could go any further, a flock of familiar silver hair caught your eye.

All hope decimated when, instead of a glimpse of cold green, you were met with the honeyed gold of the house Hufflepuff. Aegon had finally graced the other students with his presence.

A bitter taste formed into your mouth, which only accentuated as he came into better view, hand in hand (or rather, hand on ass) with Vela Castillo, the prettiest girl of the 5th year student body.

Scared to catch his eye, (Y/N) abruptly turned her head in the opposite direction and waited for the couple to sit down.

Aegon skimmed through the wide room from the moment he set foot in it - having located (Y/N), he was willing to do anything, only for her to notice him and his new, dazzling paramour.

He didn't just want her to bite his carefully laid bait this time around - he needed her to. Simply put, he craved her attention.

But the game felt old and boring for the 5th year Gryffindor. (Y/N)'s ember eyes turned back on Borya, pushing down a laugh when she noticed how Aegon sat Vela right in front of them, onto his lap, settling on kissing her passionately.

Coughing in the back of her hand, the girl beamed at her new acquaintance.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?"

A loud bang could be heard from their front - plates full of food were now laying in pieces on the ground. Aegon's and Vela's clash of lips had ended long ago; just what were the two doing now?

Aggravated by her lack of response, Aegon had taken his escapade up a notch, now having placed Vela onto the Hufflepuff table, feeling her up nonchalantly.

His scorching need for a reaction was becoming unbearable. He itched to get something out of (Y/N), anything really - and she figured it out quite easily. The right course of action was for her to keep eating, look as unbothered as can be and keep conversing with Borya.

... Even so, the sight before her would have any witch or wizard twitch in annoyance. If she wanted to see a spectacle, she would have turned for a stroll in Percy's Tour.

Just as their voices started to warm up to moaning, (Y/N) gently sat her cuttery over the empty plate. She grabbed an apple from a nearby bowl of fruit, bidding Borya a shy goodnight, before turning on her toes to leave.

And, had she given the table one last parting look, she would have noticed how Aegon peeled himself off the girl with haste, angered and dissatisfied by the trivial end of their night.

"Stupid Aegon. Stupid Aegon and his stupid need to always start something stupid." (Y/N) fumed, whilst climbing the moving staircase. "How come Professor Hightower took points from an invitation to the dance, but won't bat an eye when his grandson swallows something else besides potatoes at dinner-ti--"

She crashes into a hard chest, and the oozing smell of fresh mint and murkwood tree invades her senses. She doesn't need to look up to confirm who she'd bumped into, but she does.

Ember eyes clash with lilac hues - Aemond, who had been talking to the old portrait of Merlin, keeps a hand close to her waist, barely grazing it. He looks at her, barely startled, but with a forming curiosity pertruding though his eye.

"... Aemond." The girl utters, barely above a whisper. She feels lightheaded, struck by the closeness of her oldest friend. The way she can cast upon his fair features, profiting off of their lack of distance, is almost sinful.

The male is the first to pull away, leaving her somehow wanting.

"(Y/N), I didn't see you there."

The Gryffindor feels a stream of indignation coursing through her veins. Aemond had been avoiding her all day, and these are the first words he tells her?

His velvety voice, his poised stance and his calloused hands, that delicately touched her not a moment ago. She could feel the heat of her body begining to rise, forgetting all about her previous anger.

"Aemond," she repeats once more, "where in Merlin's beard were you today?" She gave the wizard's portrait a quick glance, in order to check if he was piqued by the usage of his name, but was instead startled by how he unnoticedly stepped out of frame.

"Whatever do you mean?" Aemond hummed slightly, furrowing his perfect brows. "We saw eachother at breakfast, did we not?"

"We... yeah, we did. But we always walk together to dinner - I waited for you at the main entrance of the Great Hall, and then I went to check in front of your common room. ...Y-You weren't there."

She vexed herself with how desperate she had managed to sound. She prayed to whatever God would listen for Aemond to not notice.

His eye gave... nothing away. He looked almost bored, irked with her presence. For the thousanth time that day, (Y/N) had to blink away the tears that were threatening to leave her own. She removed her insistent stare from his face, and concentrated upon the books in her hands.

<Potions>, she read the glittering green title of the first textbook.

"Oh, right! You had that midterm paper to finish!" She quickly changed the subject, hoping to salvage what was left of her dignity. The following seconds were met with silence. "How was it?"

'Please just say something', she cursed in her head.

"I got an 'O' for it." Aemond said flatly, before turning oh his heel to resume his walk. Noticing how (Y/N) remained behind, he turned his head to her, jerking it in a gesture that urged her to follow him. "We mustn't stay in one place for too long. You know how the stairs have a mind of their own."

As the two climbed up the steps, (Y/N) fiddled with her black robes - she coughed in the back of her hand and offered Aemond the red apple she had taken from dinner.

"Since..." she began softly, "Since we're walking up instead of down, I assumed you'd skip dinner."

Aemond let out a strained grunt, accepting the fruit from her extended hand. He made no attempt of eating it, however, and simply placed it in an inner pocket of his coat. "Thank you."

The girl pressed her lips in a firm line, nodding strongly, before welcoming the enveloping silence.

A minute, maybe two passed. The tension could be cut by a knife; (Y/N)'s brain was working overtime, faced with his unanswered question.

'Were were you?'

As if he could read her mind, Aemond turned his head to the side. "I asked Alys Rivers to the dance today."

The simplicity of his words left the girl befuddled. "What?" She asked before she could compose herself.

"That's what I was doing. You asked earlier." He clarified almost immediately. His face was still away from her. The only thing (Y/N) could do was guess the expression he was wearing by the tone of his voice, and that was a difficult task.

Alys Rivers. The beautiful 7th year Slytherin - a witch coming from a very powerful family. One of the few half-bloods of her house, she had never met her mother, yet was taken in by her father, Lyonel Strong, almost immediately after her birth.

She was a cold beauty, ethereal in her own right, and (Y/N) couldn't help but painfully smile at the realisation: that she was exactly the type of girl she saw Aemond going for. Perfect, without a flaw to her face or selective character.

The thick coat of jealousy that hugged her frame became almost too much. (Y/N) felt how the air in her lungs spent itself. She felt the warm tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. Too afraid that she hadn't said anything in a while, the witch laced her pained voice with a beaming timbre.

"I'm so happy for you, Aemond! You two make for a very handsome pair!"

She swallowed hard, trying to level herself once more. What was even worse, apart from the fact that she could see it from a mile away, was that she had nothing bad to say of Alys.

Not once had the older witch been cruel to her. Not once had she bullied her, talked ill of her, or her group of friends.

(Y/N) couldn't be mad at her. She couldn't hate her. And that was what stung the most.

"Wow, we got here quick, didn't we?" She exclaimed rather loudly. The girl thanked the stars in the sky and the moon above her head for both their agile steps. At least in her common room, she wouldn't have to see Aemond.

She turned her back quickly on him, muttering the week's password, before stepping foot into the clustered tunnel.

"Thanks for bringing me to my room, Aemond. See you tomorrow, and congrats again!"

The door that closed with the last of her words left a very confused Aemond in their stead. Mouth still agape, as if wanting to add something, he took in a deep breath, somehow dissatisfied by her abrupt departure.

Then again, he himself was to blame for not saying all he wanted that day.

(Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when the smell of crackling fire finally hit her nose. She prolonged her body against the cold stone wall, taking in a deep breath in order to calm her nerves. When she felt ready, she got up from the ground and made her way across to the Common Room, smiling widely at the lounge of people.

Her tranquility was short lived when she saw Jacerys and Baela, sitting oh so deliciously close to one another on the nearest sofa.

For a second, she froze in her place. The couple seemed to be engrossed in conversation; Jace's arm was draped over Baela's shoulder, both bodies relaxed in front of the fire place. A small blush crept over her cheeks. Jace huffed at something the Targaryen whispered to him, and (Y/N) decided she had seen enough.

Walking past them with renowed vigour, she all but ran to the girls' dorm room, shutting the door swiftly behind her.

As soon as her head hit the cold pillows, (Y/N) felt disheartened. She thought back on what Aegon said, how it was so sad for a girl to go alone to such an event.

She felt angry with herself - for causing a scene with both Jace and Aemond. After all, they didn't owe her anything, and it wasn't their obligation to ask her to the Yule Ball.

The hurt in her chest would last her the whole night, but along with the pang of pain, she was now feeling guilt.

Jace and Baela, she poundered, along with Aemond and Alys, were perfect for eachother. Even Aegon and Vela made for a cute couple. Bringing one of the pillows to her face, (Y/N) groaned her heart out.

It wasn't as though she was unattractive, or she felt as though she would die alone: but it was so unfair, that every boy whom she fancied ended up not looking at her twice.

No. She wouldn't allow herself to sulk over such a trivial thing. And she would definitely not end up seated on a chair throughout the whole night at the ball, looking miserable for either boy to see.

Suddenly, Borya's face lit in her mind. Determined to end her night right, she thrusted herself up from the bed, doning her shoes back on.

Thanks to the obsessive gossip surrounding him, she knew the young man always took a run along the castle's lake at this hour.

(Y/N) smirked to herself. A light jogging sounded just perfect tonight.

The final week before the Yule Ball went rather smoothly. Much to her own dismay, (Y/N) had been avoiding both Jacerys and Aemond.

The males had searched for her long and wide, but whenever one of them would get close to her, (Y/N) always found a way to leave almost immediately.

She wasn't proud of what she was doing. Although an immature reaction, the girl still felt the pang of jealousy and hurt whenever she'd see them with their respective dates.

It was better to avoid them altogether, she concluded.

The gradient dress felt tight against her skin. With each and every step she took, it shifted in colour - from a rich black, to a deep blue and a crimson red. Her hair was up in a braided bun, some loose strands resting upon her slender shoulders, neatly framing her face.

The forming echo of her footsteps washed an eery calmness over her. She couldn't be too fashionably late to the Yule Ball, as she'd have to dance with Borya in the opening waltz; thus, she happily skipped the next stairs in her descent.

Only one last turn separated her from the clustered hall, that led to the ajar doors of the celebration. Taking in one deep breath, (Y/N) made her entrance.

Both Jace and Aegon were made to scurry away by Professor Lynnen, the Head of the Hufflepuffs. Only Aemond remained waiting, as Alys, turned away from him, was talking with one of her friends with joyous interest. He himself was glancing at the appearance of his sister, Helaena, who was spinning around with her own partner.

"Oh, she looks beautiful, Aemond!" Alys exclaimed, coming near her handsome date.

"Yes, she is." He agreed proudly, still looking at his buoyant sister. Realising they weren't looking in the same direction, the Slytherin adjusted his body to face the main entrance to the Great Hall.

He was sure that his heart nearly stopped.

There (Y/N) was, in all her beauty, slowly walking in the direction of their resting bodies. For just a second, Aemond caught himself taking a step forward, wanting to offer the girl his arm.

The air in the room became impossible to bear for him - had she always looked so... ethereal? Her dusted cheeks, the red lips that flowered to a smile when she saw... she saw... Borya?

His trance broke as fast as it began. Before him stepped the champion of the Durmstrang school, who deeply bowed before the woman, eliciting her a small laugh, as he extended his arm out.

He could make her laugh too.

Borya was quick to cup her dainty hand into his own strong one, leading her away and to the grand entrance.

Eyes wide, as if she had just noticed him, (Y/N) offered him a small wave, giggling cheerfully.

"Hey," Alys clung onto his arm, "we should get going too. The main dance is about to start!"

Poor Aemond, still following his friend with his eye, curtly nodded before taking her arm.

Inside, (Y/N) felt like she was flying.

The way Borya was spinning her around, showing her off to everyone in the room with eyes to watch - the way his very own roamed over her face and figure, making her feel safe and desired - was more than anyone in her place could ask for.

Aegon and his date rested in a corner, the gossip surrounding them no different than the one they engaged in.

"Is that... is that (Y/N) (L/N)? With Borya Moore?" Vela chirped loudly next to Aegon's ear. Her eyes were shimmering stars, a swirl of both glee and mild jealousy as she followed the two on the dance floor.

"What...? No way. No, that's... don't be ridiculous. That's impossible! It-It couldn't be her."

Vela's eyes snapped in the direction of her partner, who couldn't seem to stop shaking his head. "Absolutely not." He proclaimed though a strangled breath, more so to convince himself rather than anyone else. "(Y/N) is far too..."

"Gorgeous." Came in the completion, given by none other than Jacerys Velaryon, who, just as the others, would not get his eyes off her. Baela, sympathetically to his right, jabbed his side playfully.

"I told you you'd regret not asking her."

"I tried! I was just... too late." He let out in an exasperrated breath, sighing dreamily as he caught another glimpse of (Y/N)'s dress.

"Next time, pluck up the courage to do it sooner."

"Trust me, I'll take this regret to my grave."

Aegon's face collapsed upon itself. Swishing his finger around accusingly at Jace's face, he managed to blurt out;

"You...! You asked - you asked her. To the ball."

"I was going to." Jace pouted, running a hand down his face. "I bought fireworks and even bribed the student choir to sing her favourite song."

"And why didn't you put your plan in action?" Aegon asked over his shoulder, as he filled his punch cup to the brim. Digging into his dress robes, he pulled out a flask of alcohool, completely draining it before setting his lips on the fruit juice.

"Same reason as you didn't? She was already going with someone else."

At that, Aegon almost spat his drink out. "No, no," he vehemently denied, "I didn't even want to ask her to the dance. I assure you."

Vela looked at him stupefied, while Baela only smirked.

"Of course."

"I didn't!!" He rebuttled.

"Sure." His cousin mused with the same untrusting look.

Throwing Baela one last dirty look, Aegon groaned in disbelief, seeing how Borya lifted (Y/N) into his arms, for the fifth time during that damned song. He deflated into a nearby seat, pulling Vela down with him, and started mumbling to himself.

Jace didn't need much coaxing to follow suit.

Thoughout the night, they gawked and grovelled. Jace took the time to dance with Baela once, twice - as to not let her be alone in missing out on all the fun. Meanwhile, Aegon couldn't be bothered to move from his chair, despite Vela's insistent huffs and obvious hints.

"Bit of a ruddy pumpkinhead, isn't he?" Aegon spat in his drink, lilac eyes glaring daggers into the brunette's back.

"I don't think it was the books that had him going to the library, now that's for sure." Jace commented, not a heartbeat later.

Their souring moods only worsened as the night progressed and (Y/N)'s giggles filled the room.

"What do you think he's even saying to her? Nothing of importance, I bet."

"Oh look at me, I'm Borya Moore and I come from Russia. My accent is deep and my muscles are twice the weigh of my bloody head." Aegon immitated the older man with a skill and tenacity that must have been induced by practice.

"Do you wanna make out?" Vela asked Aegon suddenly, aggravated by the circling conversation.

"No." Came his simple reply.

"May I have your arm?" The deep voice of yet another Durmstrang student cut through their conversation. Bowing lightly before Baela, the Targaryen snickered in amusement.

She grabbed a hold of his hand with gratitude, nodding fevereshly. "Arm, leg - I'm yours."

... And then there were three.

"Do you wanna have sex?" Vela tried once again.

"No." The blonde man sighed.

"... Are you gonna ask me to dance or not?!"

For the first time that night, Aegon turned to look at her. "No."

Ired to no end by his catty behaviour, the Ravenclaw finally relented. She abruptly got up from her chair, going to the closest group of boys she could find and striking up a conversation. Soon enough, even she was dancing her heart out.

Aemond too, took care of his date. But as the end of the night approached them, and the more upbeat songs began to play, Alys couldn't help but start to take offence.

"Your heart's not in it, my dragon." She remarked dryly, moving his chin to face her for the millionth time that night. Slowly stroking his cheek, she tried closing in the distance between them, only to have Aemond jerk his head away.

"Now what is the matter with you?" She demanded, masking her impatience as a seering question. Her green eyes followed his, stopping in their tracks at the sight of the wavy locks of (Y/N) (L/N), the object of her date's pending attention.

"Truly, Aemond? This is the reason you're so distracted?"

A low hum escaped his lips. He turned his saddened gaze on Alys, who smoothly added distance between their sweat stained bodies. She had weighed her words very carefully, now awaiting his answer with a quirked brow.

"It could never be in it." He sighed heavily, reffering to her first statement. "My heart." He added stiffly. "Not while she's here."

A buffled snort escaped Alys' black stained lips. She fully expected Aemond to need more coaxing to admit his true feelings - yet here he was, biting his inner cheek somewhat apologetically.

"I see." She finally spoke though grittered teeth, "And why have you not asked her to the Ball in the first place; You thought it more amusing to waste my time instead?"

"I had thought it a course of action that would suit us both." He answered flatly. Aemond's eye cast over her shoulder, darkening slightly, "I apologise for the inconvenience. Believe me, it was most uncontiously done."

His words were unoriginal, and lacking of any true meaning. For a moment, Alys wanted to curse him for having played with her heart, to scream at him, for daring to shame her so with his open admition of feelings.

But that was only for a moment - for she remembered that she was Alys Rivers, a beautiful and powerful witch, who would not need his approval to bring forth either blessing or calamity.

Gathering her wits about her, she crossed her arms in front of her, shaking her head at his frozen face.

"You should never have done it. Hurt her or attempt to confuse me."

His jaw clenched tightly at the notion of having hurt his dearest friend. And it took all his restraint not to leave Alys alone, in order whisk (Y/N) off the dance floor and apologise, on his knees if he had to, for being so cold towards her.

As if she could read his mind, Alys tutted in feigned annoyance. "Go." she simply said, "Go after her. Or don't, and waste your time in here." Her pretty eyes now held an amused glint in them.

Aemond's very own softened at her - mirroring her beguiled stance, he clasped his hands behind his back, adding on thickly:

"You can slap me if you'd like."

Alys' eyebrows raised in pure wonder, the gesture itself, bigger than all of her reactions that night. She let her head fall back with a mirthled laugh, calming down only after the man's face began to relax.

Snapping back into place, she looked for confirmation in his eyes, before laying a loud slap over his left cheek, kissing it fleetingly afterwards.

"I won't keep you company anymore, you do understand." She said, mildly distracted. And, should she have felt any inflection of sadness, the girl masked it well; turning her back on him, the locks of her black hair whipped his face.

Aemond allowed a small smirk to grace his lips, feeling the rough edges of his scar with two slender fingers. The powerful slap would sure leave a mark (if it hadn't already), but he was greateful for Alys' choice in hitting the only numb spot that he had on his body.

"Don't worry, brother. It gets better after the first time." Both Aegon's delivery and his Cheshire Cat smile told the Slytherin everything he needed to know. His 'breakup' had been very public and wholeheartedly raveled in by his older brother.

While both opened their mouths to say something crass, neither would get the chance to exchange their choice words. The loud applause of the crowd signaled that last song of the night had ended, and with it, so did (Y/N) and Borya's ditzying.

Both brothers had to stiffle a growl at the sight of the Durmstrang boy, kissing (Y/N)'s hands delicately, before stepping away to a faraway table.

The girl looked after him for a while, before spinning thrice in place, breathless from all the ensued dancing. She felt her friends' insistent gaze on her, and she turned to face them, breaking out into a bubbly laugh.

"Hot, isn't it?" She asked as she approached them, "Borya's gone to get some drinks. Would you care to join us?"

Her chest, heaving in and out at a rapid pace, the light tremour of her body... Aegon scoffed harshly at the sight.

"No. We would not care to join you and Borya."

(Y/N)'s smile falthered at his coarse reply. Her eyebrows furrowed, her beautiful smile quickly turning to a frown. "Well what's got your wand in a knot?"

Aegon puffed in indignation, blowing some rebel hairs from his face. He soon made his way to the table Jacerys was sitting at; Aemond and (Y/N) following shortly after.

"He's a Durmstrang. You're fraternizing with the enemy." Aegon spoke in a matter of fact tone, not even bothering to look at her.

"The enemy? Who was it that wanted to be his friend a week ago?" (Y/N) questioned, dumbfounded.

Aegon's eyes settled on the ground. He buried himself in his chair, not daring to look at the girl again.

"Besides," (Y/N) continued, fully aggravated, "The whole point of the tournament is... <international magical cooperation>. To make friends."

"Hah, I think he's got a bit more than friendship on his mind." It was Jace's turn to speak, who turned beet rouge the second (Y/N)'s attention turned to him. Peeling her teary eyes away from his, she looked at Aegon and Aemond. Each avoiding her stare, neither jumping to her defense.

Sneering at their new unspoken antourage and nodding her head in understanding, she got up from her central seat. "How dare you..." was the only thing she muttered, before getting lost in the crowd once more.

"We're only saying that he's using you." Aegon yelled after her fleeting form, sprinting to catch up to (Y/N).

"Thank you, but i can take care of myself." She spewed sarcastically over her shoulder, shocked that they were still stuck on that topic of conversation.

"I severely doubt it." Aemond spoke calmly, "He's way too old for you."

"What? Is that what you think?" The younger witch enquired, now even more enraged by her best friend's allusion.

"Mm, yes. That is what I think." He rejoinded, walking by her side again. The pressure on his heart tightened by the second, but he would not relent. Though he had never felt this way before, Aemond realised what his brain was urging him to do: completely ruin his best friend's night.

It was an ugly thing. But the only thing he believed would bring comfort forth.

(Y/N)'s walking came to an abrupt halt.

"Between me and him, there is a two year age gap. The same can be said for you and Alys, as far as I can remember."

"That's different." Aemond warned her though a low spat.

"How." The Gryffindor asked, forcing out a laugh.

His hands came to grip her shoulders. Although his movements had the intent to keep her looking at him in place, his touch was light and feathered - should she wish to, the girl could easily twist herself away.

His darkened eye came to rest upon her. What Aemond couldn't say, he tried his damnest to show through his stare.

"It's different because Alys is a woman and Borya is a man." Aegon answered in Aemond's stead, snickering lightly at her naivité.

That was the last straw for (Y/N). Peeling Aemond's hands off of her, she turned to face both men, almost shaking in rage.

"You really like that double standard, don't you?" (Y/N) pointed her finger at him, "So what say you is the difference between me and Vela, then? Your age gap with her is two years as well and you think yourself a man."

"Not all of us are like that."

"Like Borya."

"Yeah." He accentuated with an unruffled laugh.

"You know the solution then, don't you?" She tentatively said, closing the distance between them slightly.

"Go on." Aegon demurred through a raised brow.

"Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage to ask me before somebody else does! Offer me a real invitation. And not as a last resort!"

Tears were now freely streaming down her face. Before their eyes, (Y/N) could feel her hair falling into a mess and her cheeks reddening from the lack of air. Aegon's eyes widened and Aemond's hand reached out to her reflexively.

"W-well that's... that's just completely off the point!" Aegon's voice cracked nervously, now taking several steps back. "Jace...!" He blurted out, seeing his nephiew finally exit the Great Hall.

Aemond didn't turn to greet him, but (Y/N) did. Her eyes were blown out of proportion and her voice was hoarse from yelling. Upon seeing his face, all of the frustrations that she'd bottled up for the past two weeks emptied before them with the strenght of a hurricane.

"Where have you been?" She inhaled sharply.

"W-well Luke needed me to --"

"-- Nevermind! Off to bed, all three of you!"

Jacerys looks at her for a moment - at her tightened lips and teary cheeks.

The guilt pierces his heart like a Dementor's kiss. He knows he's half the reason for (Y/N)'s suffering, her tears only coming into play as a confirmation of how badly he'd hurt her.

Not knowing what to say, fearful that anything else he may add will only ruin her night even further, he nods his head briefly, hurrying past her.

He's climbing the steps with Aegon; Aemond pushed to follow as well by (Y/N)'s trembling hands.

"They get scary when they get older." Aegon articulates to Jace loudly, ripping a loud shriek from the heartbroken girl.

"AEGON, YOU SPOILED EVERYTHING!"

The boys climb up even faster as (Y/N) collapses, a faint "You bloody asshole" being the last thing she discerns before erupting into a fit of sobs.

At last, as soon as she approached her bed, (Y/N)'s feet gave out on supporting her weight.

Looking around the dark room, saddened by the end of such a beautiful day, she noticed how all the other beds were empty. None of her dorm mates returned - all of them more than likely still ghosting though the halls of Hogwarts. Still seating at the edge of her bed, the young girl brought a pillow to her arms, hugging it tightly.

She would take off her make-up, undo what was left of her braids. She'd bathe, change into her night clothes and sleep: during her slumber, she'd soon forget all about the Yule Ball and it's rattling events.

Her life would turn back to normal. Back to the missing assignments and staying up till 2 AM.

The last concept within her trail of thought brought a strained smile upon her swollen lips.

She shakes her head, massaging the nape of her neck with one hand. She gets ready to leave for the Prefect Bathrooms until...

A large shadow grazes the floor of her dorm. Startled, albeit curious of it's main source, (Y/N) scurries to the bright window, peeking outside.

A tiny rock gets thrown on the upper left corner of it. And then another. And another.

Her eyes travel up into the sky, catching a wave of long, silver hair.

... Aemond.

Satisfied that he managed to get her attention, he lowers his broom until he is at precise eye level with her.

A sudden burst of happiness flourishes within her heart.

No.

The last time she'd been eager to see Aemond, the boy all but chased her away. Not even two hours ago, he was dancing with Alys Rivers, paying no mind to her or her crushed feelings.

But then he wasn't. And then he gripped her. Touched her. He stayed behind for her. His eye bore into her frame, searching for her wide smile.

Still lost in thought, she felt Aemond tap into the window, signaling to it's nearby handle. It was cold outside, and he wanted her to open up.

A tiny smile framed her face. Shrugging her shoulders, (Y/N) played with her dress, watching the older male intensely.

Aemond mirrored her expression, pleading with his eye, until (Y/N) finally yielded. She hurried to open her window, making space for an easier landing for her friend.

"What I did to you," Aemond began with a strangled breath, "It was more than just wrong and cruel."

Now leaning on a wall and clasping both her hands together, the younger Gryffindor let out a confirming mumble.

"I know."

"You were always... here for me. Encouraging me." He added slowly, carefully. "When I lost my eye, I thought you would run away. ... Or make fun of me for being crippled."

(Y/N) turned livid at his words. With renowed vigour, she snapped in her place. "Aemond, I would never make fun of you for such a thing. Nor would I ever run."

"I know, I know." He whispered to her softly, daring to approach her and take her hands in his.

He prayed she wouldn't turn away.

When her hands turned lax within his, Aemond thanked whichever God had answered him, swearing his heartbeat became so loud, that all those within the West Tower could hear it.

"You were nothing short of kind. And good. And full of love. The day you kissed over my disfigured face, was the day I swore to always be by your side. As much, and for as long as you'd allow me."

(Y/N) let out a strained breath. She had never heard Aemond talk so feverently. So full of passion.

His pupil, so dilated by love and concentration, that one could barely see the ring of purple she had grown to love so much.

"You did all those things. Expecting nothing in return." As he pondered on her doings, his shuddering hand buried itself into his ball robes.

One by one, he took out all the objects that (Y/N) had given him selflessly throughout their friendship. An apple, stolen from dinner. A handkerchief, used to tie his bleeding knee. A brown hair band, from when his hair had gotten too long for comfort. A red button from her favourite dress, when he lost the one securing his robes, and cried to her that his mother would get mad at him.

Placing everything on the table, he used his free hand to gently cup her face.

"Yet when you needed me most, I ran away." His thumb slowly stroked her bottom lip, then gently moved to her eyes, wiping the black streaks of liner that her crying ensured.

The pair stood in silence for a brief moment, their blood running hot with need, with want, until Aemond swallowed and went on.

"I have no right to ask for your forgiveness." His breathing became laboured before coming to a halt. "So I'm not asking for it. I'm begging for it." As soon as the words left his mouth, the youngest Targaryen fell to his knees.

"... For you."

"God, Aemond...!"

His stare was getting too intense. As if he himself could feel that, he brought her hands down to his face, pressing his forehead against them.

Both their bodies were shaking in the dark. For the thousanth time that night, Aemond cursed himself for being so weak with her.

"Aemond..."

He knew he would never adore anything more than the way his name fell from her lips.

"... I love you." He whispered to (Y/N) and, if she couldn't feel his breath on her hands, she would be sure she had imagined it.

Waves of pure delight took a hold of her when she heard his strained words. Suddenly, all she thought of was how to make him say it again.

"Please - Aemond. Say it again. Please." She gasped, breathless.

"I love you. I love you. Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie ziry ziebzis."

His desperate pants melted any reminder of (Y/N)'s last resort. Crouching down to his level, she cupped his cheeks into her small hands, making small circles into his skin, tenderly stroking his deep and pink scar.

"I love you, too. So, so much."

That was all the confirmation Aemond needed, before kissing her oh so slowly.

The way his right hand rubbed her jaw soothingly, as if she would break at any moment, his left resting on her waist, pulling her closer - it was truly magical.

For a while, the only sound in the dorm was the echo of their moans and the loud gasps of the wind.

(Y/N) pulled away first, needed fresh air to breathe. Within a second, she dived back in, this time pressing herself harder against Aemond's chest, who only let out a low and satisfied hum.

"Mm, wait --" (Y/N) separated from him with a loud pop. "I hate to be a mood killer, but... w-what about Alys?"

Aemond looked at her adoringly, before licking his lips tentatively. "I can assure you. There was never room in my heart for Alys. Neither could there ever be."

(Y/N) let out a relieved laugh. "Good. Me neither, with Borya." She confessed rather awkwardly, and it was the boy's time to laugh this time. "I would have guessed as much." He said with a dangerous glint in his eye, "With how hard you kissed me, there was barely room for question."

"Speaking of hard things..." The girl mused at him, lightly shoving him away.

The two looked at each other for a moment, before snorting loudly.

Still holding onto her, Aemond went to the edge of her bed, plopping her into it ceremoniously, and stepping towards her window to close it back up. "I don't want you cold."

Striding back into her bed, he laid next to her, brushing the tangled hairs from all around her face. "Though I can think of a few ways to warm you right up."

As she blushed wildly, (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him. Her smiled falthered, however, with one left lingering question, and she raised from her bed, ready to talk serious business.

Sensing the change of mood, Aemond sat upright as well, going over her face. "What happened, jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson? What's on your mind?"

"This..." (Y/N) gestured between them. "Us. What are we now, exactly?" A smirk crept it's way across Aemond's features at that last question. Huffing, (Y/N) crossed her hands to her chest, nudging him slightly. "Don't make fun of me now. I only... want to hear you say it. To make sure we're on the same wave lenght."

"I suppose the appropriate term is 'lovers'. Though, girlfriend and boyfriend work just as well. Companions, innamoratos, paramours, sweethearts..."

"Okay, okay, I got it, thank you." The girl covered his mouth with a loud laugh and felt the great shudder of pleasure, when Aemond covered her hand with his own, kissing the inside flesh of it softly.

"I have long laid my masculinity at the altar of your maidenhood. From now on, and for as long as you will have me - I am yours. And eternally I shall remain."

His tone was serious. Unwavered. And something within (Y/N) knew his words to be true.

"You may cage me forever, as you see fit, just do not release me from your grasp."

┍━━━━━━━━»•» 🌸 «•«━┑

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Translations:

"Avy jorrāelan" = I love you;

"Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie ziry ziebzis" = I love you so much it hurts;

"Jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson" = love of my life.

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#aemond x reader #aegon x reader #jace x reader #jacerys x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #jacerys strong #jacerys velaryon #house of the dragon #hogwarts #hogwarts au #slow burn #yandere!jace #yandere!aemond

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dearsnow · 1 year ago

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CHERRY SMILE (1)

- it’s your after-school tradition to get slushies with your best friend, patrick verona, on fridays, and the friday of the summer before senior year is no different. (patrick verona x fem!reader, part of the summer before senior year series)

word count: 2,206

TSBSY: School is finally out for the summer, leading you to discover all that the sunny months have in store for you and your best friend, Patrick Verona.

a/n - i know, i know, it’s practically fall now 😭 i started this early in summer and just now finished it. I hope you enjoy anyways!

The school bell rings, loud and deafening and freeing as you turn to look at your best friend. Patrick shoots you a grin as everyone in class rises from their seats. You can hear hoots and hollers from the hallways, almost overtaking the sound of the bell. It’s finally time, and every single person knows it- even the teachers, secretaries, everyone in the building. You get up as quickly as physically possible and grab his sleeve, leading him out into the crowded halls. Feeling your gentle pull, he smiles. The bright hall lights are glinting off of the ring you stole from him. School is out for the year, and this summer, the summer before your senior year, is bound to be a great one.

“Excited to get out of here, huh?” Patrick asks, speaking directly into your ear to be heard above the roaring crowd. His breath fans over your neck, sending a shiver careening down your spine.

“Everyone is.” You reply, grinning. “I assume you’re no different, despite skipping like half of the school year.” He shakes his head in disbelief, a smile gracing his face.

“No, I love school! I love all the assignments and the work and the amazing, wonderful teachers. Why would you ever assume I dislike my favorite thing in the world?” He bats his eyelashes, tone so sweetly sarcastic you could drown flies in it. You scoff, letting go of his jacket to push him playfully. He is the least likely person to ever enjoy anything about school. He pretends to stumble as a giggle bubbles out of your mouth. God, you love this idiot.

The front doors of Padua High are wide open as everyone pushes and shoves to get out. “Oh, of course. My sincere apologies, I forgot how academically inclined you are.” He laughs, the sound so very warm and familiar above the buzzing students next to you. You don’t know what it is about his laugh, but it draws you in. It’s intoxicating and rough, like the smell lingering on his hoodies. You can firmly say that it’s your favorite laugh in the world.

You step out into the open air, breathing a sigh of relief. It’s over now. Patrick puts his hands on your shoulders, leading you to a path you know all too well. “C’mon, let’s get going before everyone else has the same idea as us.”

It was almost halfway through freshman year when you were called into the front office. That day was an unassuming Friday, and certainly one you expected to go smoothly. You wiped your palms on the bottom of your shirt as you made your way up there, desperately hoping you weren’t in trouble. As you opened the office doors nervously, the lady at the front desk smiled at you.

“Hi, sweetie. Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Her words took a massive load off of your shoulders. If not that, you thought, then what else? You look up as she walks to stand by a boy around your age. He was tall, with curly hair and a face that told you to stay far away from him. He didn’t look the least bit thrilled to be there. “This is Patrick. He’s a new student at Padua, and I would like you to show him around as you walk to your classes.”

You stared at him, and he stared back. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced at the lady.

“I don’t need a tour.” He stated, eyes flickering over to yours for a moment. You looked away- his every move seems to burn a hole into your soul. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to lead him around either.

She smiled kindly and put a hand on his shoulder, which he shrugged off. “Nonsense. It’ll be good for both of you. Go,” She ushered him towards you, “and make sure to be on your best behavior.” She winked, opening the door. “I better not see either of you in this office again today.”

“Thank God.” He muttered under his breath. You laughed, nerves at a high now that you were practically alone with him. As alone as you could be in a hallway full of people. There was a beat of silence as you both stood there.

“So, uh, is there anything you want to see first?” You asked.

“Nope.” He said. “I just want to get through the day.” You get it far more than he could ever imagine. You’re a good student, and you always have been, but that doesn’t mean you love school and schoolwork and everything that comes with it.

You smiled lightly. “I know the feeling.” His eyes widened just a little, enough to give you enough confidence to carry on. “What’s your class schedule?”

He shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line. “They’re giving it to me on Monday. This is just my free trial.” There was a spark of humor in his eyes, one that you picked up on quickly. “Is there anything good in this shithole?” His question made you think for a moment. What about school actually made you want to keep going? The threat of college or the campus itself? No, not the campus. Padua kind of was a shithole. Some classes could be fun, but not in a way that made anything worth it. You opened your mouth as you settled on one final answer.

“Friends, if you have them.” They can make everything more bearable. He looked at you, almost rolling his eyes.

“Well, lead on.” He said, gesturing to the hallway. “Might as well see the classes I have a chance of failing.” You laughed, and for the first time, you saw him smile. The first thing you noticed is how his smile reached his eyes, giving you a glimpse into the whirlwind that is Patrick Verona. You haven’t looked back since.

You sip your slushie slowly, the red ice melting in your mouth and running down your throat; it tastes just a little bit like cough medicine, but not enough to get you to stop drinking it.

It’s the last summer you’re going to be spending in your hometown, the last summer before you graduate, and the last summer you’re going to have with your best friend. You need to make the most of it, if anything. You turn to Patrick with a cherry smile.

“Summer, huh?” He looks at you as you speak, setting his slushie down on the curb where you’re sitting. You’ve gone to the 7-11 near school with him every Friday since the day he moved here, and you’re not going to stop now. School got out maybe two hours ago, and there is no better place to spend it than with him. He squints, as your face is outlined by the slowly setting sun. It shines through your hair, casting the strands in a heavenly glow.

He shifts his gaze to the street ahead of you, weirdly flustered. “Yeah. Summer.”

“What are we even going to do with all this free time?” You ask, shifting back onto your palms. The sky is the brightest blue you have ever seen, though you don’t know if it just seems like it because you’re finally free. “This is the last step between us and senior year. Then before you know it, I'll be off on my internship next June and then college after that. You’ll be doing your mechanics thing, and we probably won’t see each other again. This is it...” A pang of sadness runs through your heart as you trail off. You never thought of it in that way before. You’re leaving Patrick Verona behind, and everything you have ever known as well. Your hometown, your family, even the stupid little 7-11. It’s like a leap of faith. In one year, everything will change. You’re not entirely sure it will be for the better.

“Wow, look at you acting so smart. You don’t think I can get into college?” He scoffs with a teasing gleam in his eye. He knows he can’t, but any humor is better than seeing your wistful little frown on a day like this.

You roll your eyes. “If you applied yourself for once, I’m sure you could. But you don’t need a degree to do what you want to do.”

Even though he’s not going to have a formal education past high school, he knows what he’s going to do for a living. He’s sure of it, as sure as he has been since he first started tinkering with cars. You, of course, can’t decide. There are so many paths to pursue, so many options that you can’t seem to choose the best one- if there even is a “best one”.

“Applying yourself in school is like killing your happiness every sentence at a time.” Patrick groans. “It’s summer now, girlie. Focus on something more enjoyable for the time being.” As always, he’s right. Everything is changing, but for now, you can push it to the back of your mind. Today, you’re just two kids enjoying what could very well be the best summer of their lives.

You sit up fully. The birds to the trees on your left are chirping, and the teens in the 7-11 to your right are laughing. It is a perfect day. There are no clouds in the sky, and the air actually smells fresh, like newly-cut grass and warm pavement. It reminds you of the afterglow of the day you met Patrick.

As he followed you from class to class, you learned that he was funny. Cynical and nihilistic, yes, but funny. He was quickly identified as a loner, a joker, and an all-around dirty-minded dickhead, but you couldn’t help but notice that he opened up to you. In a couple hours, he had transformed from the classic teenage rebel to someone you truly felt like you could get along with. Looking back on it, you realized that he changed a lot during his time with you. He went from blowing you off to purposely doing dumb things to make you laugh. His interactions with other people, however, left something to be desired. He straight up ignored the students that tried to talk to him, amusing you to no end. If they didn’t stop pestering him, he would tell them to “fuck off” with a grin. He never did that to you, you noticed. He had probably decided that having one person on his side was better than nothing.

By your last period, there were already rumors circulating him and his gruff attitude. You would catch glimpses of whispers in the halls, and he would shoot you a knowing wink. You decided right then and there that you would be his friend.

“Do you want to go to the 7-11 around the corner after school?” You asked, looking up at the clock. There were two minutes between you and leaving school for the weekend.

He shrugged. “I have nothing better to do.” He had a tiny smile on his face, and you suddenly noticed how handsome he was. You shook off the thought as your face started to warm.

The trip took barely any time at all, with Patrick making comments the whole way. Some of them were beginning to sound flirty, you realized, though you tried to not pay attention to it. You had only known the guy for a day.

When you stepped inside, the cold air made you shiver. The clerk looked at you suspiciously, as he was more than likely instructed to do. You supposed that he couldn’t simply let teenagers walk freely in the store. You messed around in that store, joking about weird-sounding product names and the shelves and shelves of “diabetes in a package”. You honestly don’t remember much of what you talked about. The only thing that is clear in your mind is grabbing slushies with him. Yours was cherry.

“Do you remember your first day here?” You ask. He gazes at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Yeah. Dumb school, dumb people.”

“Hey!” You interject, pretending to be offended.

“You know I could never mean you.” He scowls. “Now, let me finish. “Dumb classes. Not-so-dumb 7-11 trip.” He gestures towards the 7-11. “It wasn’t the worst day I’ve ever had.” You poke his shoulder, and he reaches out to mess up your hair. You laugh, and feeling his hand on the top of your head, you close your eyes for a brief moment. In that moment, you are safe. Feeling this way, this comfort, is commonplace with him. His touch shoots a feeling of warmth shooting through your veins.

“It was pretty great in my opinion.” You offer softly. “I’m forever grateful for Ms. Sarah the office secretary.” He snickers at that, touching the space over his heart.

“She will forever be my favorite adult in that hellscape.” He takes a pause, slinging an arm around your shoulder. For a reason unknown to you, your heart picks up its pace. “Let’s stop talking about school. There’s too much to do now, anyways.”

“Yeah.” You whisper. “This summer needs to be the best one we’ve ever had.”

Taglist: @skeletonfromthecloset

#tsbsy ; patrick verona ☀️#patrick verona x reader #patrick verona #patrick verona imagines #10 things i hate about you #10tihay #ten things i hate about you #x reader #heath ledger #fanfic #fanfiction

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thewisebyers · 1 year ago

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I Feel So Good if I Just Say the Word (R.B x Reader)

prompt: reader is in love with her best friend Robin and has a hard time saying it; based off Sussudio by Phil Collins, takes place in 1985 (only because Breakfast Club and No Jacket Required came out that year, no canon events happen) warning(s): internalized homophobia, a little angsty but happy ending, not proof-read, not edited so let me know if there’s any errors requested?: no but this song screams Robin and i needed to write for my girl word count: 1.9k

There's a girl that's been on my mind All the time Sussusudio

"Put on something" Robin pleaded from the plush bean bag chairs you had set up down in your basement. You were trying to pick out the perfect movie to watch with your best friend but you were having a hard time choosing between two movies. Breakfast Club or Carrie? Breakfast Club was newer; only coming out earlier that year but Carrie was one of your favorites. You always rooted for Carrie; the poor girl was just trying to survive high school. You knew what that was like all too well and maybe that was why you resonated with Carrie a little too much. You just wished you were normal; instead you questioned who you were and why you didn't like boys like the other girls in your class. You'd pretend to check out Billy's butt like the other girls in your class but you didn't get the appeal; boys' butts were usually flatter than a pancake.

"Breakfast Club or Carrie?" you turned toward your friend holding each tape beside your head to show her her limited options. She scrunched her nose but pointed to Breakfast Club, you were a bit disappointed but popped the VHS into the player anyway. After pressing play, you quickly make your way back next to your friend. She hands you the bowl of fresh popped popcorn you had finished preparing on the stove before she had arrived for your weekly movie marathon. Marathon was pushing it; the two of you watched about one and a half movies before talking over the rest of the second movie and then forgetting about the TV completely. "Did you see how short Faith Gilmore cut her bangs?" Robin started; not even five minutes into the movie. You giggled at the memory; Faith walking into third period with part of her bangs sticking up because they just wouldn't flatten correctly.

Before you knew it; the two of you were absorbed in each other, forgetting the movie entirely. You listened as she rambled about a test she surely flunked because she forgot to study. You scowled her because you had spent the night together and she had never mentioned a test; you would have made her study instead of gossiping over magazines and gushing about the new Phil Collins album that had been out for a few months now. Robin didn't understand your obsession with the album but you found yourself rewinding the first song over and over again on your cassette player. She makes me nervous and makes me scared.

Her smile lit up her entire her face and you swore you could get lost counting the freckles on her freckle splattered face; your heart ached in a way that you wished it wouldn't. You weren't supposed to feel this way; not about girls. Not about your best friend. Her body was turned towards yours; blanketed knees touching, fabric getting in the way of physical contact. You felt your cheeks grow warm at the thought of entangling your legs in hers and rubbing the soft skin of her thigh. Your body suddenly felt too warm and you had to fling the blanket off of you but in the process you accidentally knock the popcorn off of your lap. "Shit," you curse as popcorn flies everywhere.

Robin raises an eyebrow. "Okay, spaz, what was that about?" she questions while picking popcorn off of her lap. She had a few pieces in her hair and you cursed yourself again for being such an idiot. Your face burned as you frantically began picking up the popcorn; you didn't answer her, refusing to look at her. How could you explain yourself? Sorry I got too deep in thought about how adorable your smile is. No, never. You knew Robin liked girls as well; you had been best friends for so long and she had confided in you were she was struggling with her feelings. You didn't say anything at the time but her telling you about her sexuality had made you realize your own. When Robin said she liked girls it was like something had clicked in your brain and suddenly you were seeing girls in that way. "Okay," Robin says slowly, stretching out the word, after you didn't answer; putting an emphasizing the 'o'.

She begins to pick up popcorn which makes you feel worse for some reason; like you shouldn't have ruined the mood to begin with. Like you shouldn't have a crush on your best friend. Your hands begin to shake and before you can stop yourself; a stream of tears begins running down your face. "Hey! Whoa!" Robin exclaims once she notices the tears and sniffles; she throws the popcorn she had been collecting back on the ground before moving over to you and grabbing your shoulders. "I was just kidding. Are you okay? It's really no big deal. It's just pop-"

"It's not that," you cut her off; you felt raw and exposed like you shouldn't be crying right now. You really shouldn't be crying right now but sobs shook your body as you look down at the half-empty bowl in your lap. You couldn't look at her and you needed a moment. "Excuse me," you said quickly, getting up and running up the basement stairs. Robin didn't know if she should follow or finish help cleaning up the popcorn; she decided to do the latter figuring you needed a moment and she didn't want you to have to worry about the mess when you returned. But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't confused; what had happened to make you suddenly burst out like that? Were you okay?

Once the mess was cleaned up, Robin took the bowl full of floor popcorn and went upstairs to throw away the food and to also find you. She dumped the snack into the trashcan and put the empty bowl into the sink. "Y/N?" she called from the kitchen. She started making her way down the hall towards your bedroom; stopping to smile at your sixth grade that your mom kept hanging in the hallway. You hated it; your braces were very present and were basically the star of the show. You look beautiful, your mom had said but you just didn't believe her. It was Robin's favorite picture of you ever because she had been giving the cameraman bunny ears to try to get you to smile because you hated your braces. "Y/N?" she said again, knocking on your door. The room right at the end of the hall. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, in her sweet raspy voice.

The softness made you want to melt and your heart began to race again. Your face flushed when you realized there was no avoiding this-her. A sigh rumbled through your body as you sat against your door; your heart ached knowing Robin was on the other side, worried about you. You didn't know what to say, what to do. Maybe if you were so quiet she'd just disappear. But she wouldn't; she'd worry and wait the whole night if she had to. "Y/N?" she repeated; worry creeping in her voice. She tried to open to door but it was locked. "Y/N? Come on, what's going on? Are you okay?" She tried the door again; as if it would magically open for her if she tried enough times.

You quickly got up from your spot; standing in front of the locked door. "I'm in love with you," you finally blurted out, not being able to hold it in any longer. You instantly wished you could take the words back but now the air was thick with anticipation and anxiety. Your body shook as the silence was eating you alive; devouring you, leaving your stomach in knots. Tears begin pooling in your eyes again; panic taking over when you heard clicking noises coming from your lock. Was she trying to pick your lock? Oh my god she was trying to pick your lock. You quickly leaned your weight against the door as she tried to make her way into the room. "No! Don't!" But it was too late; it was like Robin had suddenly become the strongest person in the world because she was pushing her way in despite your best efforts.

You turn away from her once she's made her way into your room; you couldn't face her. You couldn’t look at her, you felt sick. You were ruining your friendship right then and there but you couldn't take it back. You couldn't get her out of your head; your only thoughts were her and her dorky smile and how she smelled like vanilla and old books despite you hardly seeing her reading anything besides a magazine or an assignment for school. "Look at me," she turns your body by placing her hands on your shoulders and forcing your face close to hers. "You don't have to say it again," she breathed, her cheeks glowing a shade of crimson. "I just-I love you too and I don't want you to think you can't tell me anything because- fuck! I've been in love with you since you moved to Hawkins!" she admitted, throwing her hands up in exaggeration. That was in third grade; when Dick Robertson kicked dirt in your face (because you were new and because he could) and Robin pushed him into the mud, telling him next time she'd push him in front of the tire swing. You didn't think she'd actually do and later on she admitted she wouldn't have but the two of you still laughed at the look on his face.

Your face burned at her admission; had she really liked your this entire time? Every sleepover? Every lingering glance that you thought maybe something was there. There had been something there; from both of you and you had never realized. Had she told you she liked girls because she wanted to know how you'd react? To know if you liked her too? Well you did; it just had taken you a painfully long time to fucking realize it. Had she really liked you this entire time and you didn't realize it? "Really?" you finally found your voice; quieter and softer than usual but it was all you could muster. She nodded; moving her hands to hold your face to look at her. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue you had ever seen in your life and you knew you could get lost in them if you left yourself. You wanted to get lost in them; in her. As if reading you thought; her eyes flickered to your lips before closing the space between your lips.

She tasted like cherry chapstick, a peppermint she had been sucking on earlier, and the salty popcorn the two of you had been sharing before you spilt it everywhere. It was a beautiful combination that had your mind going completely blank as you kissed your best friend back. You had only ever imagined kissing Robin; wondering exactly what she tasted like and now you couldn't get enough. Your hands gripped the front of her t-shirt; as if she'd float away if you let go, you kissed over and over until you were both out of breath. "Weird way of getting out of watching Breakfast Club," she said once you were apart and she had caught her breath from your frenzied kissing. You just laughed; relief filling your body as your watched your friend with what you could only call heart-filled eyes. You pull her into another kiss before she can say anything else; happy to be honest with yourself and free to be with the girl you couldn't get off your mind.

#robin buckley #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x reader #reader x robin buckley #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x yn #stranger things imagine #stranger things #thewisebyers #my work #yn x robin buckley

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