#I want to know what other horrible little chore people are doing

[kedreeva]

I've been cleaning all day, I think you should get up and do a chore, too. we're in this together.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred's Boy Part 5

@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.

Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.

Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.

Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.

If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.

Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.

Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.

Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.

What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.

Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.

"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.

Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.

Not dating his ass.

"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."

Wes hums, "If only we could dance."

"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."

Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.

Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"

Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."

"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."

Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."

"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"

"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.

"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."

Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."

Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.

If Alfred allowed, of course.

"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"

His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.

"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.

"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.

"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"

"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.

Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."

"You do?" We gasped.

"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.

"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.

"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"

"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.

Bruce is instantly weary.

"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.

"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."

"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."

Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?

He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.

Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"

Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."

Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."

Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How do you think Argenti, Gepard, Dan Heng, Blade, and Dr. Ratio would react to finding their lover crying about how beautiful they are?

Argenti would be honoured that you found him of beauty equal to that of your own.

Truly he was because he was the type to believe that it took true beauty to recognise beauty in all its other forms.

He would hold your face in his hands and try to calm you down with some sweet nothings and kisses as his thumbs wipe away your tears.

‘My beloved rose,’ he’d begin, ‘to be viewed as beautiful by your eyes is an incomparable experience and I am blessed that you think so highly of me because to me, you might as well have been the originator of beauty itself as you make even the most mundane chore beautiful.’ He pushes his forehead against yours, brushing his nose against yours. ‘I am so honoured to be viewed as such in your eyes. I shall Cherish this eternally.’ He finishes as he then proceeds to kiss under your eyes, your eyelids and finally down your tear streaked cheeks gingerly as though you were going to break.

Argenti just spends the rest of the day proving just how beautiful you are in his eyes as repayment afterwards.

You’d probably had to hold onto him and tell him that he doesn’t have to repay you for speaking your truth, but Argenti was adamant in repaying you for doing so and if that meant spending eternity wait in on you hand and foot then Argenti would gladly do so.

Gepard originally thinks that something was wrong when he caught you tearing up and was about to use whatever he needed to resolve the issue, only for you to tell him how beautiful you thought he was.

Now he’s sporting a cherry red face and was at a loss for words.

He was use to people singing his achievements despite thinking that he could do so much more but getting a compliment in general that wasn’t tied to anything he’s done was enough to have the second oldest Landau a little speechless.

‘Really?’ He would ask sheepishly while rubbing the back of his head. ‘I mean I wouldn’t think so but that doesn’t mean I’m within my right to tell you whatever you think of me is right or wrong, it’s just something I’ve got to get used to to in due time.’ He adds as he then grasps your hands in his and squeeze them.

‘But I thank you for thinking so highly of me that isn’t in regard to the things I’ve accomplished and more so on me just being…well me, even if I do fail at keeping our plants alive…but still I’m glad that you’ve stayed by my side for as long as you have. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Gepard finishes his statement off by kissing your forehead, down the slope of your nose and finally a sweet and gentle peck to the lips.

Dan Heng

He was quick to come to your aid upon seeing you crying, but the moment you tell him that the reason why was because you thought he was beautiful.

He didn’t hole much of an option about himself but he certainly didn’t think he was beautiful, average maybe, but not once did he ever look himself in the mirror and saw beauty staring back at him. He just saw Dan Heng of the Astral Express, nothing more, nothing less.

So for you to see beauty in him wasn’t something he was prepared for as his eyes widened a tad and his breath caught in his throat before looking away to scratch the tip of his nose out of habit.

‘You truly have a unique way with words don’t you?’ He’d say to himself as he smiles softly to himself, glad that nothing horrible had happened when his back was turned, you genuinely had him going for a bit there and he was more then glad to be wrong on this occasion.

He’ll hold your compliment close to his chest in hopes of absorbing it and committing it to memory, guarding it as though it were a priceless treasure he could not be separated from. He often didn’t think himself as someone special, but the way you spoke about how beautiful he was while crying made him want to appreciate everything you have ever said about him in the past in a remotely positive light. He didn’t know he needed it until you came along to shower him in love for just existing.

Blade is more of an ‘actions speak louder then words’ type of guy.

So he wouldn’t exactly be moved to bits when you tell him how beautiful he is because he knew what his body looked like, he also knew that you knew what his body looked like, so he often wondered where or not you were seeing the same thing as he was.

So unless you were holding his arms, admiring his scars and or tracing/kissing them with adoration like you were doing now, then he wasn’t going to be less to easily believing in words alone.

‘I’m far from it.’ He’d reply but felt the walls he’s built inside weaken the moment you pressed a soft kiss to one of the more larger scars across his inner forearm. A simple act made from genuine affection that shouldn’t have made as much of an effect on Blade it did.

The feeling of vulnerability wasn’t one he welcomed that often but when he does it was more or less only within your presence. In those moments you could tell him anything and he would be lead by the smallest spark to believe in it, including telling him he’s beautiful as you combed your fingers through his hair with tears still blurring your vision.

He’d brush your tears away with calloused finger pads and wordlessly bring you in close to his body, leaching off of your warmth and allowed you to borrow your head into the crook of his neck, and just keep you there as his own special way of saying thank you for seeing beauty within a monster.

Ratio

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or however that saying goes.

Veritas didn’t pride himself on his how conventionally attractive he was but more so on his intellect and extensive wealth of knowledge.

So when he caught you crying over how apparently beautiful he was, Veritas would want to naturally disagree with this statement but due to the fact that you were in a highly emotional state, he just bites his tongue and calmly walks over to you, kneels next to you and pulls out a handkerchief and start gingerly wiping away your tears.

‘I appreciate the heartfelt compliment but I do not think that it is worth your tears.’ He would then say afterwards as he coddles you into his side, making sure you could feel his appreciation for your ability to care for such things in life, seeing as how he was too transfixed on the much bigger, more complex paradoxes of life. ‘And don’t rub your eyes so hard when wiping away your tears, you’re only hurting yourself when you do that.’ He adds fussily but it never fails to make you smile and laugh at how much he cared about you in his own way.

He doesn’t stop mid work to smell the flowers but you did and he knew how even the smallest, minuet things could mean so much to someone, even if he didn’t understand the reason as to why, but he can learn to accept that what you found worth praising and what he found worth praising were two completely separate things and that was okay.

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: Hii im the anon who ask for the wips and i saw the blurbs you have. IM VERY MUCH HOOKED with the third ones where hoshina loves reader's smile🥹 relating to that maybe i would like to add(if you want, but feel free to do seperate if you want) soft moments with hoshina x reader who felt like she being the most pessimistic person regarding love(not anti but just felt like she doesn't deserve it) so she is on denial when hoshina make a move on her

notes: reader is usually rather energetic, talkative reader, hoshina thinks you are "beautiful" at some point, TYSM FOR THE REQ!! sorry it took so long omg

wc: 1300

Something was wrong— terribly wrong. There was no way someone would want you, let alone your vice-captain who could have anyone in the world. Not your vice-captain who did everything with such care and looked after everyone so preciously. And definitely never your vice-captain you were terribly in love with.

There must be some mistake. Or else he wouldn’t have just said what you thought he said.

“Pardon me?” you asked.

He looked a little flustered and you had never seen such an expression on him, confusing you further. “I love you,” he said again, softly. “I’d love to know if you’re in a relationship.”

The way he spoke so carefully added to how nervous it made you feel— it was so different from how he usually talked to you. Now, you were lost to say the least, because you couldn’t think of one reason why he would like you, let alone romantically. Under normal circumstances, you’d assume you were being played with or that this was a silly prank or dare, but you knew that Hoshina wasn’t one to do something so horrible. So what was happening?

“I am not…” you said, still confused, but the visible relief in his eyes made your heart tighten. Oh gosh, is he serious?

“I’m… thrilled,” he said, and he wished you goodnight and left. While you were terribly flustered to know he liked you back, there was a voice in your head that wouldn’t stop making you feel anxious. Something felt so odd to you— to be loved back. To be loved back by him. You enjoyed talking to people so you talked to him often, but never had you thought he'd think of you like that. Having a naturally talkative personality, it was true that both of you had fun talking to each other, but you had accepted that your love was unrequited ages ago. When would he have possibly fallen in love with you? The more you thought about it the more impossible it sounded. As thoughts of him circled your head, it’d be morning before you knew it.

It'd be hard for him to point out exactly when he fell in love with you, because he was in love before he knew it. Before he knew it, he'd catch himself following you with his eyes. He adored watching you work, because you made everything look exciting. Of course, he saw how you groaned at the paperwork you had to do, but he'd see how the little things would put a smile on your face.

He liked the work he did, he liked all of it quite frankly. From neutralizing kaiju all the way down to the research he had to do— rarely did he think something was a chore to do, but if you were around to laugh at something silly he found or mutter about the binders and binders of files that the 3rd division just doesn't have space for anymore, he'd start looking forward to these moments.

While he knew you were like this with everyone, he hoped that you were happiest with him. It would mean everything to him if you looked forward to doing seemingly mundane work with him too.

However, while he loved so much about you, there was one moment specifically that made him realize he wasn't moving on. His heart would be yours forever at this rate. You'd look so horribly tired after all this work, and yet, if someone needed help with anything at all, you'd still smile and ask them what's wrong. You'd find the energy and speak to them so kindly. You might not have the energy you usually had, but you'd be so happy to help. Even if they couldn't tell how exhausted you were, he could. He knew how much you did for everyone in the division, and he thought you were stunning when you did so. You were the most beautiful when you had that lovely smile on your face that seemed to light up his world.

He loved you so dearly.

You loved talking to people, so there always seemed to be something for you to talk about. A new finding you wanted to share or a terribly random thought that popped up in your head. While you naturally talked to most of the people in the division, you looked forward to talking to Hoshina the most. The way he'd always listen so intrigued at your dumbest thoughts and laugh at the smallest things you said meant more to you than one would probably think.

And if you shared your daily happenings with him, he'd share his with you too. To say you loved these moments would truly be an understatement. Nothing could possibly make you happier.

However, you knew he was like this with everyone. His laugh would always manage to keep the morale of the division up and he'd never miss potential problems in the condition of any of his officers. You knew he was a sweet person, but also the best one could ask for in a vice-captain. You weren't special— he was like this to everyone. You knew better than anyone else.

You couldn't imagine anyone falling for you, let alone the kindest person you'd ever meet in your life. Let alone the person you'd probably love for the rest of your life.

Yet, here you were, alone with him this afternoon working away through paperwork and it was quiet. Eerily quiet. He was the first to break the silence.

“I rather dislike the rain,” he said, looking out the window. “It’s been raining all day.”

You paused to look outside as well. “No, you’re right. I don’t mind the rain, but I hate how dark everything is.”

“Yeah,” he said. More silence.

“Sorry, I’m awkwardly nervous now,” he said, eyes fixed on his work. “I didn’t mean to make things… weird.”

You could tell he probably didn’t want you to, but you couldn’t help but look his way. Your eyes widened and your heart filled. You weren’t afraid to say much, but you were afraid to talk about this. However, you thought you’d be able to if you were talking to him.

“I just… can’t imagine that you’re… in love… with me,” you said, looking down at your paperwork. “Sounds too good to be true. I know... sounds unlike me, right?”

Immediately he looked up at you, shocked to say the least. You could tell he probably wanted to ask why, but he thought for a moment more.

“What… would I be able to do to show that I am?” he asked. “You’re the one I love… you always will be.”

Your eyes widened. “I just… don’t know why,” you said honestly. “Why me?”

“Because I love you,” he said. “I love a whole lot about you, but I love being with you. I enjoy spending time with you and watching you enjoy the life around you. Is that too simple?”

It took you a second to reply, but you felt a lot better. “No, not at all,” you said. “Because I feel exactly the same way.”

“You’re kidding”

“Absolutely not”

“I’m going to kill you if you’re lying,” he said.

That made you laugh. “You know I wouldn’t,” you said, and yes, he knew you wouldn’t.

“Hey, Hoshina,” you said, avoiding eye-contact. “If I get worried… will you tell me again?”

“I’d tell you until you get sick of my voice,” he said while getting up to kiss your forehead. “I love you so much.”

[sigh-tofm]

if you’re asexual… (18+)

… price

- understands.

- respects your limits to the fullest. asks ‘is this ok?’ or ‘can i touch you here?’ a lot in the beginning, until you sit him down and explain that you’re not made of glass. he can touch and hold and kiss you like he would any other partner, just not shove his hand down your pants or flip your skirt up to get access to you.

- fills your relationship with domesticity instead. has your tea ready and brewing when you get up in the morning and knows exactly how you like the bed to be made. holds your hand when you’re out shopping and buys the special brand of cookies that you like. doesn’t watch ahead on your shared tv-shows and always cuddles you on the sofa.

- if you’re sex neutral/positive, he loves messy blowjobs and getting to fuck you silly in missionary. he’s a little bit of a dom and also completely whipped for his wife.

… kyle

- understands.

- does not push it. does not even attempt to initiate anything. lets you have all the control. after a couple long conversations where you explain your needs and limits, he’s all set. once he knows how he can best spend time with you, that’s all he needs. it’s actually a little refreshing to have a partner not chomping at the bit to jump his bones (curse of looking like an angel).

- gains a newfound appreciation for the sensual aspect of your relationship. running his fingertips over the stretchmarks on your hips, playing with ice cubes on your bare back, admiring the indents ropes makes across your skin after it’s been left on you a while. there’s no penetration, no orgasms, just two people exploring each other together.

- if you’re sex neutral/positive, kyle loves the lotus position. thinks it’s the peak of sexual intimacy and absolutely adores being face to face so up close.

… johnny

- understands (after a little while).

- has a mini crisis because he thinks this means you’re not attracted to him. you explain that’s not true, you actually find him super hot, but that you just don’t want to sleep with him. that it feels like a chore to you, like doing dishes. not horrible, but maybe a little gross and just something you’d just rather not do.

- embraces the romantic side of your relationship. loves the intimacy, getting to hold and kiss you. drapes over your back like a warm cloak when you chop vegetables at the kitchen counter and just enjoys the closeness. finds a new peace in himself he hasn’t felt for years.

- if you’re sex neutral/positive, he loves it when you ride him or tease him with your hand. still a complete maniac if he really lets lose. loves getting to let lose with you.

… simon

- understands.

- is almost relieved. has always had a complicated relationship to sex. knowing that you don’t want it from him settles some part of him that’s been restless and anxious for years. chaste kisses on the lips and constant handholding become your new normal. is very matter of factly about it if he does ask you for sex.

- finds that he most of all just wants to spend time with you. follows you around like a lost dog, no matter what you do. always comes to run errands with you or sits in the shade outside while you work in the garden. even when you get up to pee at night, he lumbers after you and stays just outside the bathroom door, squinting at the dim light. you’re so used to it that it’s second nature when he catches the bottom of your sleep shirt and lets you guide him back to bed. feels so at peace when you’re close by.

- if you’re sex neutral/positive, simon will sometimes ask if he can eat you out or if you can lay back on the kitchen table so he can fuck you. you tend to oblige.

[shkudss]

Weakened by Eywa Pt. 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Masterlist

Summary: Ao’nung finally realizes that his actions have consequences

Warnings: curse words, bullying, mental breakdown, English isn’t my first language

Author’s note: it my first Avatar writing, so I hope you like it! This idea was spontaneous and I’m not really good at writing, but I hope you’ll enjoy it! I’m still learning how to use Tumblr properly since I don’t really use it 🥲

Yawntutsyip - darling, little loved one

Yaymak - foolish, ignorant

You thought that all these days when you flew to the water clans were the hardest in you life. Little did you know that life with Metkayina would be harder. You expected to finally live a normal life, doing your chores without being sacred to be shot by sky people. Now you’re safe, but things didn’t get better.

Since your arrival, these boys were bullying all your siblings, including you. You have no idea why it is important for Ao’nung to see totally similar to him Na’vis. You all are same avatars with slight differences that were unavoidable due to the environment you’re supposed to live in. Oh, yeah… supposed to live.

“What are you even doing here?”

“You’re so useless to our tribe”

“Go back to your monkey house”

All these words almost engraved in you mind without leaving space for other thoughts and hope. It’s been two weeks since you arrived and you still haven’t ridden an Ilu successfully, you can’t hold your breath as Metkayinas do. This makes you feel horrible and believe all these mean words.

“C’mon, Y/N, you can do it!”

Neteyam is trying to teach you how to deal with ilu and his voice is so calming, he really believes in you as an older brother. You wish you could just believe him, but insecurity lays too deep and securely in your mind.

“I don’t know… I can’t…”

Your voice was really soft and quiet as you’re the calmest child in your family. You don’t like loud sounds and fast actions. That’s just the way you are. Neytiri says that Sylwanin was just like you.

Despite being slower and more sensitive that other Sullys they loved and protected you with all their heart. Jake knew that Kiri and Tuk are different, they can deal with their problems a lot easier, while you cannot. When something bad to your family or yourself happens, you worry a lot and you won’t tell anyone about your worries unless they make you to. That was the hardest part of you character.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need to take a break? We can continue tomorrow, don’t worry yawntutsyip.”

Neteyam was worried about your mental state, you were too quiet these days and it never meant anything good. Trying to make you speak about your feelings was completely impossible. You always think that your family has too much to worry about to burden them with your own issues. You want to be like Kiri and Tuk. That’s hilarious, Tuk is way younger than you but she’s able to deal with her emotions way easier than you.

“I’m good. Can we just take a break for like half an hour? I think my brain melts.”

You awkwardly smiled at the end trying to lighten the mood. Neteyam smiled back, feeling relief as you seemed to be just tired. He didn’t want you to hide anything from him and your family.

“Okay, yawntutsyip. I’ll go find Lo’ak and make sure his ass hadn’t get in trouble again. Kiri is on that side of the beach by the way. You can join her, she’s probably flirting with plants again. Let’s meet here in an hour.”

You laughed at his little joke about Kiri. But that’s a fact. Since you arrived here all she’s been doing is examining all local flora and fauna. You missed your time together in the forest, maybe now you’ll have a chance to talk and just be together.

“Okay!”

“Tell me if something goes wrong.”

You knew this look. The big brother look. Sometimes you think how hard it would be for you to live without your family, the way you’re connected to them something really fascinating. And one of your love signs is time. Spending time with your family and each member is the way you show love, the way you feel protected and loved.

You see Kiri laying down in water and looking for something. She didn’t see anyone around, attracted by… water? You didn’t try to understand what’s going on in her mind.

“Hey, pandora geek.”

You stood in front of Kiri and the shadow from your body covered her. Only after that she raised her head and squinted at you.

“I thought you’re with Neteyam. What’s wrong?” She sat on the sand, water was covering her legs a little. You did the same thing, hugging your knees and placing your head on them.

“We took a break, my brain doesn’t work properly. I still can’t ride ilu.”

Hopeless sigh made your sister chuckle, but then she saw your eyes. They were full of sadness, you were not happy. Kiri felt guilt, as your sister she had to be with you, she forgot that Sullys stick together.

“What bothers you?” You were not sure if it’ll be okay to tell her everything. But you family always encourage you to speak what lays in your heart, so you decided to do it.

“There’s a lot… I miss home, I miss flying with you, Neteyam and Lo’ak around Hallelujah mountains.” You were vulnerable now and this is one of those rare moments when you opened your feelings easily. Kiri was the only one you did it with. You could feel tears coming to your eyes, you needed this. “I just miss our way of life. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to get used to it. Especially, when you always hear…”

“Hey monkeys! Still can’t ride ilu? How can you be so yaymak? You’re both freaks!” you could recognize this voice in millions. “One sister has demon blood, another is too dumb to do things that even infants can do!”

Ao’nung and his friends were coming towards you. Kiri’s body immediately tensed, you could feel it.

“What do you want? Is there nothing to do?”

Ao’nung and his friends came closer and you both stood up. Kiri was looking at him angrily, ready to fight. You were supposed to have such a good conversation, opening each other your soul, but this bully spoiled everything.

“My goal for now is to get rid of such fake Na’vis like you two and your stupid little brother.”

You were furious, how dare he talk like this about your family. Yes, he did say mean things to you, but he still picked his words. Now it’s too much. Nobody can talk about your family this way.

“Shut up and don’t get close to me and my siblings!” You tried to get into protective sister mode. Kiri was shocked by the way you raised your voice. She’s never heard such tone from you before.

“Look at this! Little girl knows how to talk?” Ao’nung was teasing you and laughing with Roxto and the rest of his friends. “Maybe you’ll learn how to swim properly soon by the time my future brother or sister will turn 10. Hopefully.”

You clenched your fists, trying to hold all your emotions. Anger, offense, sadness. It felt like a hurricane of extremely high spectrum of emotions, which was hard for you to bear.

“Don’t you dare…”

You didn’t control yourself that you were coming closer and pushing him. The reason why you felt this way was in him.

He did this to you.

You didn’t care that he was taller than you and all you faced was his shoulders. You didn’t care that he barely moved as you tried to hurt him as much as he hurt you. All he did was laughing. It seemed like Ao’nung didn’t understand anything you said, like he didn’t see you breaking into pieces right in front of you.

“Calm down, you little skxawng!” It was a joke for him. For you it was your last piece of composure.

“You’re dumb! So dumb that you can’t even understand how much pain you give me! Every day I wish I don’t meet you so you won’t shower me with all your shit! Every night I cry myself to sleep because all your mean words you’ve said hurt me! And you don’t understand me, how can you be so mean?”

You were screaming at him and trying to hit, mental breakdown took over your senses. You could physically feel how your heart hurts and legs weaken. All sounds were heard as if from under the water, you didn’t see what’s going on around you. Someone’s holding your shoulders and pushing you to their chest to not let you fall on your knees.

“Don’t touch her!”

Furious voice sounded from afar. Neteyam. Your brother who always protects you, surrounds you with love you need. That’s why he calls you yawntutsyip. Little loved one.

You could feel your brother as he came closer to you. His steps were as heavy as his mood. When he saw you breaking down in front of this asshole and because of this asshole, he almost lost his temper. The way chief’s son was holding and looking at you, finally realizing that his actions have consequences. He had to drive you crazy to understand it.

“Back off! Now!”

He pushed Ao’nung as he got closer to him, taking off his hands off you. You didn’t realize it was him, who held you all this time. Was it long? Actually, everything happened in less than 2 minutes, but for you it was like an infinity.

“What happened?”

Lo’ak was here, he saw you crying in Kiri’s hands and Neteyam fighting with Ao’nung and his friends. He didn’t need to check on all details to punch Roxto and other guys.

“It’s fine, we’re here. Don’t worry.” Kiri was sitting with you and slowly swaying, while tapping your head to calm you down.

“I’m sorry, I…” that’s all you could say.

Neither you nor Kiri noticed how the fight stopped until Neteyam came closer and examined you. His eyebrow was cut so as his lower lip, but he didn’t care. Now he could feel only your pain.

“Yawntutsyip… my sister.”

“I’m sorry, Neteyam. I didn’t…” You were gasping for breath from crying, not being able to collect your thoughts.

“Shhh, that’s fine, you’re fine. We’re here, nobody will hurt you again.” Kiri gave you to Neteyam, he was calming you down repeating the same moves as Kiri did. You were crying, letting all pain, that was suppressed inside of your soul, to flow through you.

Your siblings knew that you need to feel it to let it go. That is the only way for relief.

“Let’s go home, yawntutsyip?” Neteyam’s voice was calming as always, he hated seeing you crying.

You just nodded in agreement, hiding your face in brother’s neck and holding him as if someone can take you from him in any moment.

Yes, most Na’vis are brave, ready to fight and protect their beloved ones. But you just can’t do it. You are the one who needs to be protected. Eywa created you that way and you can do nothing about it.

“Don’t ever come to our sisters, you little bitch! Are you so insecure that you’re afraid to battle with me and choose those who are weaker than you?” Lo’ak didn’t miss to say the last goodbye before following after all of you. He didn’t wait for the answer, he didn’t need it.

Ao’nung was standing up there and looking as your figures disappear. No words are in his mind, except for one.

“Fuck”

————————————————————————

I hope you liked it! I’m not sure if I’ll write the second part🫣 I have an idea but idk if it’s worth it, we’ll see!

[three--eyed--cat]

!! She, mattheo riddle !! Summary: Mattheo Riddle, your beloved ex-boyfriend, sees you trying to move on. He won't let you, scaring away any potential new guys. pairing: mattheo riddle x reader word count: 4k+ warning: reader is a malfoy, described to be pale with long hair. smoking of weed. partial blaise zabini x reader. Gore, killing of pets, writing with blood, spelling with intestines, crucio used. smut

Golden rubbers in these denim pockets.On my waist theres a black glock New girl moved on the block

"You don't have to do that for me, Pansy." You denied her offer, it would be too much to ask. But the fact that she went out of her way just to tell you, made you smile, pink lips pulled into a grin as you stared up at her.

"You're cool, Y/N/N. There aren't many cool people in this school, so when I find one, they have to be my friend." She said it as if it was factual, making you giggle softly. You shake your head, denying the compliment.

"Whatever you say, pansy."

The girl grinned, standing up from where she sat at the end of your bed. You watched her curiously as she searched the room, seemingly looking for something.

"Looking for something?"

You asked, confused as to why she had got up so abruptly. Pansy nodded, kneeling down on the wooden flooring beside her bed, pulling something out from underneath it.

"My shoes."

She sits on the ground, opening up a cardboard box, revealing a pair of black, brand new ugg boots. This only confuses you further, why would she need her shoes?

"The boys are usually in the common room, we're gonna go pay them a little visit."

She must've seen the curiosity written on your face, answering your unspoken question. At this, you scramble to get out of bed. "Pansy, I look like shit!" There's panic evident in your tone as you stand in front of the vanity, picking apart your appearance. You grab the nearest hair brush, running it through your hair. Not that you needed too, being a Malfoy meant no matter what, you always had perfect hair.

"Girl, look at me."

She deadpanned, making you glance at her through the mirror, where she still sat on the floor in her green pajamas and unbrushed hair, watching as you get ready.

"Besides, you look hot."

She says bluntly, shooting you a flirty wink as you caught her gaze, her green eyes boring into yours. You roll your eyes playfully in response, placing the brush back onto the dresser, cheeks turning rosy pink at her romantic demeanor.

She gets up from the floor, using the bed to help her stand. You turn, walking towards your bed to grab your previously discarded sweatshirt. ---

On your way to the common room, Pansy speaks up, her voice quietly echoing through the hall.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't met more of Draco's friends."

You hum softly in agreement. Draco was popular, you knew that much, yet you'd only ever met two of his friends, one of which was the girl you walked beside.

The other... Lets just say, he's a big part of why you don't go home much anymore.

"I preferred spending my holidays at Beaux Batons. When I'm at home, my parent's usually task me with running around after the dark lord, doing all of his chores and stuff like that."

She grimaces, remembering just how close your family was to Voldemort. Her family was also involved with the dark lord, but nowhere near as close to him as your parents were. She's never even seen Voldemort, so the thought of being in your place, stuck alone in a room with him for most of the time, scared her. Often, Draco would tell her stories about the man, 9/10 his tales would shake her to the core, further adding onto the evil perception around the lord. Plus, the things that he made Draco do, knowing that the boy wanted no part in such gruesome activities- but had no choice but to participate, greatly angered Pansy, who knew just how much it truly shakes her boyfriend. So, if you were stuck, doing all of the dark lords bidding, Pansy could only imagine the horrible things that you've likely seen, maybe even had to do. Seeing her change in mood, you think it's best to add on something that would allude being around Voldemort, 24/7, wasn't actually that bad. "He's not that bad of a guy, personality wise. His motives just aren't that great."

You tell her softly, as if asking her to cut the horrible man some slack, after all he'd done, killing innocent people for his own, selfish reason.

From the look on her face, you can tell she doesn't want to continue the conversation.

Mentally, You sigh in relief. If you talked any longer about he-who-shall-not-be-named, you'd probably end up spilling the real reason you transferred. ---

Finally, you both reach the bottom of the stairs and Pansy goes to open the door, but not before turning to you with a reassuring smile.

"I can't promise that they don't bite, but if they do, just know they don't mean to."

She spoke as if she were a poet, her sentence a metaphor of it's own. She had pre-apologized for her friends possible actions, in the case that they did say anything rude, or insensitive, though if they did offend you, Draco would have each of their heads on a stick by the morning. Silently, you thank her for the warning, sending a nod her way. She doesn't see your movement, occupied with opening the heavy dungeon door.

"Thanks."

You muttered, following her into the dimly lit room. Instantly, a wave of coldness washed over you, the fireplace doing next to nothing in keeping the space heated. You glance towards the culprit, huge windows line the stone walls, condensation dripping down the glass, almost blocking your view into the black lake, not that you could see much inside of it's darkness. The place reminded you of home, with it's intimidating aura and leather couches, the only difference was, the Malfoy manor wasn't green. Green, clearly handmade, blankets were strung over most surfaces, if not draped over a couch, it was folded on a table, ready for the students to use. It was certainly a prettier sight than the bland, blue walls of beaux batons.

Aside from a group of boys, lounging around the fireplace, the room was void of any life, the sound of yours and Pansy's footsteps echoing through-out the quiet, the only other sound being their voices, barely any louder than the crackling of the burning wood.

Pansy strode over, confidence in her steps, as if she had a purpose to be there. You followed behind, hands shoved into the pockets of your grey trackpants.

"Piss off, pansy."

Somebody spoke with an accent, you couldn't quite place where it was from, but you knew that you'd heard something similar, before. In the corner of your view, you can see Pansy roll her eyes before leaning back, sitting on the arm rest closest to her before an arm snakes around her waist, presumably your brothers.

"I've come to introduce you to my new best friend."

You hear Draco groan from where he sat, on the couch, behind pansy. You let out a scoff, stepping closer to the group as Pansy stifles a giggle.

"It's great to know that I'm appreciated, Draco."

Your voice catches the attention of the boys, their attention shifting to where you stood, your arms crossed over your chest.

You looked almost angelic, the fireplace casting a gentle glow onto your pale figure, arms crossed over your chest, your long hair gently cascading down your back.

You were... pretty?

From the angle of where you stood, their faces were perfectly in view, all looking semi-familiar, probably from when you'd met their parents, once or twice.

There was Theodore Nott, an Italian bloke with dead looking eyes. Lorenzo Berkshire, a charming boy with a sharp jawline, and Blaise Zabini, who always looked uninterested and unamused.

You finish checking them out, before having to do a double take. Mattheo wasn't there and you knew that he was supposed to be, since he was your brothers closest friend.

You mentally curse yourself for looking for him, forcing your gaze to pansy, who motions at a spot between Nott and Zabini.

You glance towards them, to see if they were okay with you sitting near them. Blaise nodded and you stepped towards them, Theodore stayed quiet, but made no move to stop you as you got closer.

You could feel somebody look at your figure as you sat down, their gaze leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

"Boys, this is my little sister, Y/N."

Draco introduced you and Theodore's head snapped towards you, it looked as if a piece of puzzle had fallen into place inside of his head. You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to why he had that look in his eyes.

"Enzo."

The boy sat beside Draco said, holding out a hand for you to shake. You rip your gaze away from Theodore, instead giving Lorenzo a warm smile as you leant forward, shaking his hand.

Once again, somebody's eyes raked over your body, sending shivers down your spine. You let go of Enzo's hand, leaning back into the plush sofa.

"That's Theodore-" Lorenzo nodded towards the boy on your left, the one who had who seemed bewildered to learn your name. He continued to say nothing, just watching your interaction with Enzo. "-and the one staring you down, is Blaise."

At this, a harsh shove was sent to Lorenzo's shoulder, Draco's lip curling up in disgust as he scowled at Lorenzo, who raised his hands in surrender.

"Nobody will be staring down my sister." He stated, a threatening tone in his voice as he sat back in his chair, leaning against the plush cushion, clearly not happy with Lorenzo's words.

Draco would never let another one of his friends touch you, not after what happened last time. They were all a bunch of players, anyways, you were worth more than any of their hoes.

Pansy shot you a knowing look, as if to say, 'they already have.' In response, you grinned softly, shaking your head as you glanced away.

---

You lay in bed that night, propped up on your side to look at Pansy as she spoke, the two of you gossiping about anything and everything.

"So... You find any of them cute?"

You didn't say anything, hiding your face in the pillows so that she couldn't see the blush on your cheeks, the movement telling her all she needed to know.

"Who!"

She squealed, excitedly. She loved talking about girly things like this, not really having a lot of female friends after she started dating Draco, surrounding herself with his mates who, sadly, didn't like to gossip.

"Zabini."

You said sheepishly, voice barely audible, muffled by your pillow. Pansy grinned, egging you on as she said.

"Oh, Blaise is totally into you, I swear I saw him looking at your ass!"

She been plotting on my brown cock

By now, the first week of school had been and gone, with no signs of Mattheo, the boy that you were dreading to see.

If anything, his absence was only making it worse, under all of the circumstances- like being the new girl in his friend group, getting sorted into the same house and even being in most of his classes. You should have seen him by now, it was a miracle that you hadn't.

However, you tried not to think about him. Which was hard, nearly impossible, so you'd distracted yourself, thoughts of Blaise Zabini plaguing your mind.

He was hot, gorgeous even and the two of you got along well, in-fact, so well that he strolled up to you in your shared potions class. His hands in his pockets as he, casually, asked if you wanted to 'hang.'

Just the two of you, alone in his dorm. Which everyone knew was basically code for, 'I'm trying to fuck.'

In response, you sheepishly nodded. You'd been asked out before, so many times that you couldn't even count, but none of the guys that asked you out were cute, or respectable, like he was.

Plus, if yours and Blaise's relationship did blossom into something more, he was the son of a pureblood death eater, meaning that your father would, hopefully, approve.

But in all reality, there was only one boy that your father wanted you to date, or in other words, give a second chance.

Not that you would ever, ever get with Mattheo Riddle again, no matter how much your father wanted you too.

After Blaise had left your table, Pansy came back, lips curled into a smirk, having watched the interaction between you and your crush.

The entire class, she pestered you about it, doing annoying things, like drawing 'Y/I + B.Z' on your paper, or shaping her hands into a heart and putting it over her eye, so that it was around you and Blaise.

It was at lunch when you finally gave in, the two of you planning to spend the rest of the day sitting by the black lake, so you could fill her in without fear of being overheard, you were also due for a gossip session, so the hangout would be solving two problems at once.

Although, as soon as you left the castle, you could feel it. A pair of eyes staring lasers into your back, watching as you ventured towards the black lake.

You couldn't recall how many times you had glanced over your shoulder, looking for something out of place, anything that could possibly be giving you the feeling of being watched.

But to no avail, until you and pansy started talking about how well you fit into their little group. She mentioned that there was still another member, who's yet to come but will be at dinner tonight.

You sat with your knees to your chest, your back facing the black lake, probably not a good idea as anything could jump out and grab you, without you knowing in time. But it was worth it, as long as you were filled in on all the Hogwarts drama.

Pansy sat across from you, her legs crossed as she rambles on, telling you funny stories about the boys.

"You know, I think you fit in really well, With the boys and I."

You smile at her honesty, you hadn't really thought about that until now, but you did slide into the group pretty easily, your jokes always at the right time, making everyone laugh, knowing with one look how was somebody was feeling, though you did that outside of your friends, as well.

"There is actually a 6th member to our little group, you'll meet him tonight."

Horror, which you feigned as surprise, crossed your face. You'd known that Mattheo had to come back at some point, but that didn't mean you dreaded it any less.

"W-what?"

Pansy dismissed your odd behavior, assuming that you were just confused as to who she was talking about.

"Apparently Mattheo was sick for the fist couple of weeks, couldn't catch the train with the rest of us."

Hearing his name left a bad feeling in your stomach and suddenly, you didn't feel like going to dinner tonight.

"You know him?"

She asked, noticing the uncomfortable look on your face. You shook your head so fast you might've given yourself whiplash, hoping she wouldn't notice, you cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the anxious lump rising in it.

"Just... heard some stuff."

You lied through your teeth, not ready to tell the girl about your bad past involving Mattheo. Well, it wasn't completely untrue, you'd definitely heard some pretty horrible things involving the boy, you'd also experienced it first-hand.

"Fair enough."

Pansy stated, shrugging.

"He's a little scary, but he's not all that bad."

You nodded, glancing away from her, opting to stare into the darkness of the black lake instead.

---

Not much happened at dinner. Sure, seeing Mattheo for the first time, since you were fifteen, was... Weird.

He looked different, in a good way. His face was more scarred than when you last saw it, but his wounds were in all of the right places. His lips were slightly chapped, glossy from his spit and his skin was tanner, not holding the same paleness he used to shar with his father, as a child. His eyes were no longer brown, having darkened to a pitch black, his pupils barely visible.

You only knew this because he had been staring at you during all of dinner. While everyone else was eating, his eyes were on you.

The kind glint they once held was gone, now holding a look of stoic, coldness as he watched you pick at the garlic bread on your plate.

You could barely eat, hyper-aware of the fact that you had Mattheo's full, undivided attention.

You tried to rid your thoughts of him, focusing on the conversation around you. Which, ironically, was just Draco talking to, or about, Mattheo, who would only respond with short answers, still not tearing his gaze away from you.

It had started to irk you, was he seriously still hung up on it? It happened over three years ago, the both of you should be over the situation by now.

You told yourself that there was another reason, not wanting to think about the bad decisions that your younger self had made.

You probably just had something on your face, or maybe, a bit of food stuck in your teeth.

When Blaise tugged on your hand, pulling you out of your seat to go to his dorm with him, you silently thanked every god that you could think of. Mentally noting that you owed the boy a favor, not that he had helped you out on purpose.

In your departure, you missed the death glare that Mattheo had given to Blaise, said boy quirking a brow towards Mattheo, confused as to why he was staring lasers into him.

Theo took a sip from his gauntlet, filled with lemonade, he regrets not telling Blaise about you and Mattheo. As much as he liked you and Blaise together, he was scared that the boy was going to get caught in the crossfire of your ex. Which Theodore knew about, from when him and Mattheo had shared a blunt on a particularly rainy day.

---

Mattheo had laid across the bed, his head hanging off the side, poorly rolled joint between his lips. Theodore was his most talkative self when high, his quiet demeanor completely out the door. Mattheo however, was the complete opposite. When intoxicated his extroverted self could only ever cough out one or two words.

"Once, when I was in muggle school, there was this one blonde girl, who would always dance in the rain. I had a crush on her, I think. I don't know, honestly, I can't remember. But, anyways. I would always watch her-"

Theo rambled on, sitting with his legs laid out, leaning against the headboard, next to where his bong sat on the nightstand. His hand flew around as he spoke, making quick gestures to accentuate what he was talking about.

"Creep."

Mattheo said, his face void of any emotion, making Theo unsure of whether the boy was joking or not.

"Shut the fuck up, Mattheo. Don't rain on my parade just because you've never had any type of love in your life." Once again, Mattheo cut in, eliciting a grumble from Theodore, but making him wonder about what Mattheo could possibly have to add.

From what Theo knew about the dark lord's son, Mattheo was practically incapable of loving, it was rare for him to show any emotion other than angry. It was rare that he'd laugh if it wasn't at someone else's expense, in other words, he found amusement in hurting other people, much like his father.

But, Theodore knew that Mattheo had next to nothing in common with his father. Then again, Theo only knew of Voldemort through what his parents told him, being death eaters they saw the dark lord often. From what he'd heard, Theodore could determine that Mattheo and Voldemort were nothing alike.

"I have." He spoke, his tone un-describable , it wasn't one of anger or sadness, but, it wasn't happy or disappointed either. Theo's face was one of surprise, his brows raised and eyes, still redder than a tomato, widening.

The boy let out a deep sigh, bringing his blunt to his parted lips, deeply inhaling as Theodore sat patiently, eager to hear about Mattheo's love life, or lack there of.

"I was 15, she broke up with me, didn't want to do long distance. She was going to beaux batons, I wasn't."

He kept it short and simple, not wanting to tire himself out with trying to string a sentence together, he couldn't function properly when high. Theodore hummed, in a tone that said, 'continue.' He could tell there was more to the story, that there were unsaid words on the tip of Mattheo's tongue.

"I... I was angry, worse than you've ever seen me. I just, didn't understand why she'd want to leave me. Still don't."

Theo nods along, ushering the boy to hurry up and get to the point.

"She's my soulmate, That's rare to find. So, I tried to make her stay. I wanted- no, need her to be around me. I- uh, I crucio'd her cat, made her watch."

---

Blaise collapsed back onto his bed, sighing tiredly before propping himself onto his elbows to look at you. "Come, sit."

He nodded to the space beside him, eyes trailing over your figure as you moved to sit.

You sat next to him, feet hanging over the edge of the bed. He chuckled at your movement, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, not sure what he was laughing at.

He lays back down, patting his lap softly, motioning for you to straddle him. You rip your gaze away from him, a blush rising to your cheeks. Noticing your embarrassment, he placed his hands on your hips, grabbing them softly to pull you onto him.

You stare down at him, perched atop of his lap. He looks at you, as if you're a riddle he can't figure out.

"You're inexperienced?"

He says it more like a statement, rather than a question. Sheepishly, you nod and Blaise smirks softly, drawing circles on the small of your back.

"Surprising..."

He trails off, behind you, there was a movement outside of the window. His gaze hardened, thinking that it was someone breaking into his dorm. But then, he remembers that the dungeon is underwater, meaning that it was probably just a fish swimming past. Something like that, anyways.

You, on the other hand, are busy admiring his face. Resisting the urge to run your hands over the curve of his jaw, or the soft slope of his nose.

The feeling of being watched still hadn't left, you knew it wouldn't, that it was just your brain being paranoid because of Mattheo.

"Being Draco's sister, I thought you'd live up to his reputation as a player."

He spoke, but not before doing a double-take of the window. It was true, Draco is notorious for being a man-whore, or at least he was before he started dating pansy.

"You know, I'm not completely innocent."

You said, catching his attention. You looked into his eyes, only to find his gaze fixed on your bottom lip, where your teeth bit into the plushness, nervously.

"I had a boyfriend, when I was 15."

He raises his eyebrows, mocking surprise. There's a teasing tone in his eyes, as if he's egging you on, to say more about this 'boyfriend.'

"Didn't turn out?"

A rhetorical question. If it had turned out, you'd still be together, but you were here, sitting on Blaise's lap, completely oblivious to the boner you'd given him.

"I was going to Beaux Batons, didn't think long distance would work."

You shook your head before speaking, purposefully leaving out the part that still haunted you.

The reason you couldn't sleep at night, laying awake in bed, the image of your childhood pet, sprawled out on the floor, guts on display, blood used to draw hearts around it, 'M + Y/I'

"Fair."

Blaise's hands moved from your hips, trailing up your waist, pulling you closer to him. You fall against his chest, a gasp leaving your parted lips. He uses this to his advantage, pressing his mouth to yours, messily kissing you.

After a moment of surprise, you kiss back, attempting to go just as fast and needy as he is, but he bites your bottom lip, just as he had seen your own teeth do just a few seconds ago. Feeling the cushion of your flesh between his teeth, he moans softly, the sound scratching an itch in your brain, dampening your panties. He slips his tongue into your mouth, instantly asserting dominance with the way he searched around. He drops you onto the bed beside him, rolling over so that he was on top of you, without breaking the kiss. His knee split your legs apart, your clit rubbing against the fabric of his slacks, a whine escaping your mouth, into his, at the sensation. He swallows the sound, running his tongue over the back of your teeth.

Last night, I slept over hers.

A forearm is rested either side of your head, your eyes tracing over the veins that trailed up to his biceps, usually soft looking, but now flexed as he hovered over you, staring down at you with an intensity in his brown eyes. "You want this?" The question caught you off-guard, he had you practically writhing underneath him and he stopped to ask you for consent? Total baby daddy material.

You whimpered, "Blaise, P- please." The sound of his name falling from your lips makes him let out a shaky breath, half-way through a moan.

Pressing a soft kiss to your lips, he aligns himself with your entrance, slipping the tip between your soaked folds, you gasp softly, his size taking a moment too get used too.

"Fuck... you're so tight, baby."

It doesn't take long for you to get acquainted with his size, needily grinding down onto his cock, to show that you were ready.

He glides in and out of your canal, each thrust agonizingly slow. He clearly just wanted to get a reaction out of you,

During sex, I overheard.

Clouded by lust, Blaise almost missed the movement in the corner of the room. His brows pulled into a furrow, he went from leaning on his forearms to his hands, craning his neck to look behind him.

"Blaise... what's wrong?" Your voice had a whiny tone to it, the sound reminding Blaise of what he was here for. Taking one last glance around the dorm, before he turned back to you. "Nothing." Blaise placed a hand under your thigh, pulling it up to be pinned against the bed. This newfound angle lets Blaise bury himself deeper inside of you, planning to make you moan so loud that he won't be able to hear any other noises.

Once again, he thrusts into you, the tip of his cock instantly hitting that spongy place in your pussy.

A sword sliced the air, I pulled out the na-na.

"Stupefy."

A voice whispered through the air, a flash of red flying past Blaise's head, just narrowly missing him.

Under his breath, Mattheo lets out a frustrated groan. He re-adjusts his stance, moving to point his wand more specifically at Blaise.

Rolled off the bed then shot back, paow-paow.

In the blink of an eye, Blaise had slipped out of you. If it weren't for the intensity of the situation, you would've whimpered at the loss of feeling filled.

His left hand held his wand, pointing it at the intruder. The right one scrambled to make himself look decent, tucking his rock hard member back into his pants.

"Sectumsempra!"

You flinch, the sound of Mattheo's voice not only surprising you, but making you scared, as well.

A white light illuminates the room, hitting Blaise square in the chest before he could react.

He dropped to the floor, an assortment of cuts sprouting open on every inch of his skin.

You lifted yourself off the bed, scrambling to kneel beside Blaise. Your eyes rake over his wounds, which were only multiplying by the minute.

Your face held a fearful expression, scared of what Mattheo may be capable of. But, that doesn't stop you from looking up at him, lip quivering as you beg him to stop.

"M- Mattheo, stop! P- please, this isn't funny!"

Mattheo's face was devoid of any emotion, although he had the ghost of a smirk on his lips, as i fhe was proud of himself.

"Mattheo, please!"

Mattheo took note of the way you looked up at him, your doe eyes big and pleading, a slight sheen over them, a sign that you were on the verge of tears, clearly out of worry for Blaise.

Truthfully, he hadn't meant to hurt Blaise. He was just checking up on you, to make sure that the boy wasn't hurting you, or making you uncomfortable.

He just hadn't expected to find Blaise balls deep inside of you.

Mattheo tried to hold it in, he really did, but he just couldn't stand watching anyone else touch you, talk to you, or even just be near you, especially in the way you were with Blaise.

Blood on the sheets, probably spilling from my gash.

Blaise's crimson blood dripped all over the floor boards, seeing the mess, Mattheo muttered the counter curse. Causing an end to the whimpering of Blaise. Mattheo watched as you gently stroked Blaise's face, soothing the boy. After seeing this, he quickly departed, unable to watch you worry after someone else.

Looked out the glass, se him sprinting on the grass, A real ninja with the blade and the mask, got them gold ninja stars and red supreme nunchuks.

Blaise hissed, the alcohol you were dabbing onto his cuts stinging him. You sat on the sink, he's stood between your thighs, gripping them every time it hurt.

Now she tryna patch me up, but Girl, I was just trying to get a nut bust.

His blood stained your pale skin, dripping down your fingers. You cupped his jaw, using it to tilt his head to the side, giving you access to a cut underneath his ear.

Neither of you had spoke for the last five minutes, a pregnant silence between you both. You pressed a soft kiss to the wound before placing a plaster over the damaged skin.

"I'm so sorry, Blaise."

He shakes his head, as if to tell you that it was alright. He watches as you care for him, making sure that he was okay.

"If that's your ex, you should probably own a pistol."

There's a tone of honesty in his voice, making you debate whether or not to tell him that trying to get rid of Mattheo wasn't worth it.

But, I'm guessing its just wiser to exit with the dude.

After returning to your dorm, you sink into the bath, pink bubbles clinging to your skin.

It takes a good amount of scrubbing, but finally, you get the red off of your skin, a floral scented soap taking it's place.

The hot water relaxes your muscles, your back de-stiffening. You try to ignore what had just happened with Blaise and Mattheo, but it plagues your mind. Mattheo's behavior provoking a disturbing feeling in your core, one that your sure you shouldn't be having.

The blinds wide open so he can see you in the dark when you're sleeping, Naked body, fresh out the shower.

Pansy wasn't in the room, so you assume that she planned to spend the night with your brother, the thought making you cringe.

The curtains were wide open, the view of the black lake crystal clear, the movement of the fish swimming casting shadows in your room.

You adorned your body in a pair of skimpy underwear, a matching bralette just barely covering your bust.

Uh, and you touch yourself after hours.

Your fingers curled inside of your canal, failing to reach the spot where you needed them most. A whine escaped your lips, hips bucking up into your palm uselessly, trying to push your small digits deeper.

Ain't no man allowed in your bedroom, You're sleeping alone in bed.

Your movements paused, the gaze of an unknown pair of eyes trailed over your body, replicating the feeling of ice sliding over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Chills crept up your spine, eyes widening as you registered what was happening. On one hand, you were concerned. On the other, however, it only encouraged you to chase the orgasm that you were so desperate for, especially now that you had an audience.

A whine escaped your lips as you pulled your fingers out, leaving you achingly empty. Slowly, you sat up, knees pressing into the mattress as you scramble to grab your pillow.

You pushed the plushness underneath your aching heat, needily grinding down onto the cotton once it was situated, making you let out a moan.

But check your window, He's at the window.

----A/N I wrote this like 2 months ago, I did plan to finish it but lost motivation. I will make a part 2, if anyone wants one.

[beneathsilverstars]

been doing research on writing plural systems for sif+loop in mundane modern aus, and i think i've got a solid idea of what i want to do! specifics may vary by au but i wanted a base set of headcanons to vary from, so sif+loop being a system can be a background fact of my au musings instead of something i have to reinvent every time.

(i'm a singlet so if any systems have concrit or thoughts they want to share i'd be happy to hear it! i'm not like planning a fic or anything currently, but it's still nice to not be working off of misconceptions for my silly little posts.)

siffrin took over as the main host in their late teens and doesn't remember anything from before that. in their early-mid 20s their work/housing situation was horrible and when they couldn't take another day like that, siffrin split into loop (who kept the mid 20s memories, with a new personality) and siffrin take two (who remembers the 17-20 era a bit better, but then there's a big gap). between the two of them they were able to cope better and hold a not-as-awful job and get a shitty apartment all to themselves!

siffrin fronts more often on average, because they're better at quietly accomplishing day-to-day tasks. but if he gets too overwhelmed or anxious (think their mini loop-backs in canon) then loop takes over, bc loop dgaf about some of the things siffrin worries about, and doesn't shut down as easily. but since they don't bottle up their feelings as severely, they're more likely to react outwardly and make rash choices like quitting their job, being rude, splurging on little treats, etc. so that's why siffrin is the default fronter for things like work and chores, when he's feeling up to it.

loop is fairly aware of what's going on while siffrin is fronting - sometimes they choose to tune more of it out, but they can catch most of it if they want to, and sometimes siffrin will talk to them or nudge them to pay attention. since they know at least the basics of what siffrin was up to, they can usually step in pretty smoothly when they need to take over! and it's very easy for them to take over, with or without siffrin's say-so, though they try to ask if it's not an emergency (and if it is an emergency, siffrin is likely trying to back away from the front anyway).

when loop is fronting, though, siffrin is entirely away, dreaming in the void. loop can nudge them for a vague opinion or relevant memory, but they can't hold a full conversation and they're not aware of what loop's doing. when loop puts them in the front again they're usually disoriented and need a moment for loop to tell them what's been happening. and again, loop is the one deciding to switch; sometimes siffrin might resist getting pulled back if they're still feeling bad, or get antsy and start reaching out if they've been asleep a while or are having bad dreams, but they're not gonna react to environmental situations since they're not aware of them.

mal is in there too but doesn't front. its role is to be socially hyper-vigilant, pointing out when other people might be upset at them so the alter who's fronting knows to fix it or avoid the person. it's been around longer than siffrin, and was helpful way back then, but now that siffrin and loop have worked out an effective balance and are fairly safe, mal's behavior is somewhat maladaptive (ha!). it's not super directly aware of the outside world like loop is, not anymore at least, but it does get secondhand memories from both siffrin and loop. it actually sometimes remembers facts and details that sif and loop both quickly forgot, because maybe those details will end up relevant to spotting and avoiding future problems - but since it got the memories secondhand and filtered them through a particularly paranoid worldview, it's likely to misremember subjective interpretations as literal truth, so you gotta take its claims with a grain of salt.

it mostly hangs out in the void imagining fractals and whatnot these days, keeping an eye on siffrin while they sleep. it occasionally perks up and chimes in with its pessimistic point of view when siffrin is really upset - it can communicate better with sleeping siffrin than loop can. loop is not on speaking terms with it because they're mad that it goes behind loop's back and makes siffrin more upset right when loop is trying to shield him from the upsetting situation. but siffrin doesn't mind it bc it's just trying to help in its own way, and sometimes it is helpful to face their fears in plain words instead of avoiding them. and siffrin will sometimes ask it for help with like, puzzles, because it's good at pattern recognition.

there's also a no-longer-quite-dormant alter that presumably fronted for much of the body's childhood. they don't hang out in siffrin and mal's void, and they don't talk to anyone else within the system. but now that the system is more safe and stable, every once in a while something will catch their attention and they'll gently push to the front and start talking. as soon as their train of thought is interrupted they're gone again, and the other alters don't even remember that they got usurped for a moment, a la siffrin's bits of telling childhood anecdotes in canon. loop and siffrin have surmised that they exist, and call them the lost one.

mal has also implied that there's at least one more dormant alter, but it's from before siffrin-and-loop's time and possibly mal's as well.

if something happens that's so distressing that siffrin retreats into headspace and loop won't take over either, the body goes into dissociated autopilot. it will follow basic one-step instructions (such as "follow me" or "eat this"), speak in a couple simple scripts (such as answering "how are you" with "i'm fine"), and complete rote tasks such as taking a familiar route home from work or going to bed. loop doesn't pay much attention because that would defeat the point / put them back in front, so they usually have very little if any idea of what happened in this state, but it is possible for outside events to catch their attention enough for them to try fronting again. otherwise they'll be back next time the body wakes up. siffrin, on the other hand, usually won't front for at least a day or two after this happens, and will likely have forgotten the events leading up to it as well.

it doesn't happen very often since it's the very last resort, after siffrin dissociating, loop taking over, and loop dissociating. loop and siffrin don't consider the autopilot an alter because it doesn't form memories, have emotions or opinions, or interact in the headspace; it just follows where it's led, by habit or outside influence. loop has argued in favor of trying to imbue it with more personhood so it's less uncanny for other people to interact with and can get loop's attention when the distressing thing is over, but siffrin argues that if it can think that defeats the point, and they'd just end up with this new alter and a new autopilot.

past all that, the specifics will depend on the exact au; particularly the ratio of loop time to siffrin time will depend on how much siffrin works and how awful their job is, whether siffrin and/or loop have friends yet, etc. but i think when they're doing pretty well they'd be happy with siffrin doing work/chores and most of the activities that they both enjoy (since then they'll both remember it), and loop fronting for maybe a third of their free time to do their own thing, and maybe here and there if something goes wrong at work. and then if siffrin starts feeling burnt out, they swap for a couple days of loop doing most things and siffrin just coming out for an hour or two. siffrin and mal probably talk maybe a couple times a month, unless siffrin is really going through it, in which case they might talk a lot for a couple days. it also might be possible for mal to eventually adapt a little more to being safe, and start providing a wider range of possible interpretations instead of just the worst case scenario.

ok that's all! and as i said, i'm totally open to feedback. :3

[leggerefiore]

I've been forced to push myself too much at work and now I'm sick and exhausted 😩 can I request the dead inside trio and submas comforting a sick/overworked s/o??

I struggled a lot with this one so it's probably not my best

cw: stress, comfort, mentions of fainting in some parts

character: Ingo, Emmet, Nanu, Cyrus, Larry

▲Ingo▼

● His immediate thought is to scold you after you basically collapsed from overwork. As your emergency contact, he was naturally the one they called when it occurred. When you declared yourself fine, if not just a bit tired, he helped get you back home to rest. Your work had so kindly given you a few days off work to recuperate, seemingly horrified at the thought they were quite literally working you ragged. So, as you lay in bed at home, Ingo also took opted to take a few days off to help you relax, too. His worrying would have made doing his normal work next to impossible, he knew. Emmet was more than happy to give him the time, anyway, knowing how badly he often overworked himself, too. It may have felt a bit hypocritical when Ingo chided you for letting yourself be worked like that, but it was a sign of his genuine care. He was in an absolute panic when he got the call about your collapse and could not have gotten off the battle line any sooner.

● Ingo will make you rest. There will be no chores or anything done until you had at least a day or two of unwinding. At best, you can convince him to help him as he handles the chores. At worst, he chases you away from even something as simple as folding towels. He does not want you to further exhaust yourself – The image of you suddenly collapsing now burned into his mind. Why your work thought it was okay to treat you like this until the very extremes was beyond him. He certainly would never do that to his employees. That could endanger the lives of so many for little return. He bites his lip as he knows you will not want the offer to work under him. It was wrong for him to consider nepotism there, even when it came from genuine concern for you.

● Instead, he focuses that energy into doting on you. Ingo dutifully makes many dishes that you like simply so you keep up with meals, worries that it may have also been a factor in some way. Any hobbies you have are also brought up and engaged if it suits you. He also spends plenty of time just cuddled up with you and reminding you how much he does truly love you. Part of his behaviour is like an overbearing mother. This has shocked him horribly, and he now completely understands how you feel when he overworks himself. Internally, he makes a promise to never do that to himself again if you feel this horrible concern as he does. In the end, you will feel well rested and stress-free. Ingo works tirelessly to make it so. You both make a promise to not let the other do that to themself any more.

▽Emmet△

○ The younger twin notices the telltale signs of your behaviour and feels a mild annoyance. Nothing really bad, just a thought that you and Ingo were acting for too similarly for his liking. He is certain to stop you before it becomes bad. A bright smile on his lips as he tells you to demand time off work. He feels you need at least a day to gather yourself, but he knows more would be better here. No matter what, he would panic if you got worse. Emmet is bad at expressing his worry, and he may just actually go into your job, ask for you, pick you up, and carry you away. He is just impossibly worried. Ingo is bad enough… The thought of you in such a state is enough to make him start being more aggressive in his battles. When you finally do get that time off, he finally eases him up on people to a point where it is noticeable and debated among Depot Agents.

○ Emmet instantly takes off time alongside you. He is so worried about you and wants to make sure that you actually relax on your time off. His mind thinks about a time he forced Ingo to take a day off and came home to find him having cleaned their shared apartment. He does not want something similar to occur here. Any household chores and needs can be handled by him. He will not pretend like he enjoys doing them particularly, but making sure that you are resting his highest priority. There is something oddly endearing about the younger twin dutifully washing dishes while you lay out on the couch cuddling with his Galvantula (who he asked to keep you busy). Seeing you unwind makes him feel immense relief, truthfully. The poor man was nearly really about to physically drag you from your work to make you relax.

○ He gets take out from any place you want in an attempt to make sure you are getting proper meals and not having to stress yourself with even minor cooking. He internally knows he is being a bit ridiculous there, but he has scared himself too much. His cooking skills are lacking, and he is a bit terrified of somehow accidentally poisoning you. Joltik cuddle time is assured also. He figures the little bugs have some energy to spare with you, and time spent with some cute things might reinvigorate your exhausted mind. Emmet cuddle time happens as well. He is almost constantly all over you since he is just so worried. There will be no escaping his affection. (Unless you tell him you cannot relax with him clinging to you. In which he will pout but relent.) You have to promise him that you will not let this happen so badly again. You and Ingo will make him “was Emmet” instead at this rate.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 He notices when you start overworking yourself and throws out a helpful remark about not doing that. Nanu knows there is not a lot you can really do – especially if it's work making you like this. At best, he can tell you about standing your ground, but he knows boundaries will not always be respected. He does feel a bit frustrated seeing you like that despite it all. His indifferent facade melts away, especially after you end up having bad exhaustion spells. It is then that he helps you schedule time off since you clearly need it. He has seen some people collapse from exhaustion back in his International Police days, so he refuses to let you get to that point. And, admittedly, he used to be guilty of overworking, too. Obviously, not these days, but he still remembers.

🌑 Your time off is spent strictly away from anything that might be too much. Nanu cannot really stop you, in truth, should you want to, though. Mostly, he just asks that you let yourself relax and forget about any obligations for at least a day if they are not overly important. It is hard to deny the old man such a request. Besides, his Meowths are clearly ready to lounge around with you. How could you say no to some lazy times with the kitties? You really cannot decline when one opts to curl up on your lap and sleeps so peacefully while purring. (Nanu sent them after you, wanting to make sure you had a little time off your feet.) The Kahuna opts to handle a few things around the home to keep them off your mind, too. There is something a little sweet about catching the old man folding laundry and glancing at you reading on the couch.

🌑 He also goes out of his way to subtly do numerous things for you to help you recover. Casually, he will pick up takeout for you to eat or even try to bravely cook you something of edible quality. There is something nice about simply sharing a meal with you and helping you relax. Usually, you end up lounging out on the couch, watching some show half-heartedly. His arm rests around your shoulder as he pulls you close to him. Red eyes drift, to you leaning against him, and a sigh leaves him. He was ready to do everything you wanted, honestly. You could ask him to juggle, and after his initial deadpan, he may just try. You agree to be more careful next time in the end, seeing how genuinely concerned that Kahuna was for you.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ He fails to notice at first – Something that will bother him immensely for far longer than he will ever admit. The blue-haired man usually does keep a close eye on you, as he is distantly aware that he worries about you far too much. Yet here, where he felt it most important, he had failed. You had fainted at work from sheer exhaustion, and he had been called as your emergency contact. Mortification was the only thing he could feel while rushing over to get you. Whatever harsh words that he used to hit your workplace with about being so negligent were swallowed as he instead confirmed that you were otherwise alright. Thankfully, they gave you a few days off in response to such a grievous situation. Or, perhaps, it was due to Cyrus's terrifying expression as he helped you up.

☄️ Whatever hypocritical nature may be present as he scolds you about taking adequate breaks and pacing yourself with work completely goes over his head. Even attempting to bring it up will make him insist that it is different from what he is doing. (In a sense, it is.) He also bars you from doing any housework. Cyrus has no reservations about doing them anyway— It is almost relaxing to him in a way. (Once again, chiding him back for overworking will not lead to realisation.) There is even an offer to book you some kind of spa or massage appointment to help you further relax. He would admit to having gone to a few himself during more light moments of stress. Cyrus would take off the day following you passing out, but not really anymore. Though, he does check in on you throughout the day. If you do take the spa offer, however, he may join you. Free Cyrus date at the cost of your mental and physical health.

☄️ Most of his real effort is far subtler. He is not inexperienced in cooking and will take over that while you recover. Most of the meals are more basic, but there is a surprise attempt at making something he knows that you like. It is not half bad. He also seems to come home more regularly, wanting to make sure that everything is going well and that your condition is not worsening. This means more time to spend with him. While he usually opts to focus on home upkeep, if you ask for some physical affection, he will relent to it. Your comfort matters most to him as it stands. He honestly is willing to do many things he otherwise would refuse normally simply to make you happy. (If he was even in the middle of his plans, he might be willing to drop them if it seems like they would stress you out even more.) In the end, you do make the decision not to overwork yourself because Cyrus obvious worry is a rare thing, and it made it clear that what you were doing was too much.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 He does not notice. There is a large amount of shame in failing to notice this happening, yet his work simply keeps him too tired to really give anything his full attention. Sure, he had seen the signs, but he had thought it was mostly him projecting. Then, you suddenly had intense fatigue at work and had to call him to come pick you up. He was mortified when he recognised you symptoms as so familiar to him. This was a common thing he experienced, admittedly. Walking you home, he asked you to schedule a few days off if possible. He knew it was a lead into a fainting episode or extreme burnout. Both of which he thought were best to avoid. He knew how difficult management could be, but he was far too worried about you. There was some relief that it got approved quickly soon after.

🍙 He struggles to really know what to do to relax. Whenever he gets himself into such a state, he usually sleeps for a few days until he has to return to work. Whether you wanted to do that or not was beyond him, but he does mention it. There is some mention of how to better manage a workload between you both, but it is a struggle for him, too. How you kept going on so long like that was truly not within his range of comprehension. Larry opts to aid you by covering house chores and doing other various things for you. He could not get any time off to join you himself, but he works to avoid overtime, so you have him around more. His Staraptor seems to decide to keep an eye on you, too, when he is home. The bird cawing whenever you tried to do anything more intense than putting dishes in a dishwasher. It seemed that if it could not stop its trainer from stressing himself, it would stop you.

🍙 Larry is not only coming home more often, but he tries to be more engaging with you when at home. Casual check-ins on you become more common since he does not want to fail to notice anything going on with again. Lazy affection is also common. You both often end up lounging on the couch together, forgetting whatever woes had been bothering you. He frequently calls ahead before he comes home, too, to ask about what food you want. He is certainly no cook, but he does know the best restaurants in Medali. You will whatever food you desire. Larry does not care if he ends up having to visit Kofu to get it. He also discusses the situations vaguely a bit with you and gives you more experienced advice on how to handle situations at work to make life more bearable. In the end, you return back to work better equipped to advocate for yourself, and be more mindful of your workload. Larry is relieved.

[oopsimbug]

in which… y/n is stubborn, and harry is still an asshole

a.k.a. regency harry pt. 2

a/n: gah… i literally dont know what to say… how about: oh my god i am so sorry for taking so long! school, two jobs, a lack of inspiration and literally hating my own writing made sure i was unable to post for an entire YEAR AND FIVE MONTHS!!!! i DEEPLY apologise. i hope this is alright? let me know what you think! and yes, there WILL be a third part, hopefully out before the earth is enveloped by the sun?

pairing: regency era! harry styles x reader, enemies to lovers

summary: again, think little women, but with you instead of jo and harry instead of laurie… but harry is an asshole… a RELENTLESS asshole

warnings: harry is still a GIANT ass, all enemies no lovers, lots of really mean things said to each other, they literally truly hate one another like i have my work cut out for me trying to redeem this couple :’)

word count: 10.8k (smaller than my first chapter, but god did i struggle getting over the 9k mark… i literally hate myself)

read part one here!!

Money…

It was what made the world spin around. 

Unfortunately, the L/ns did not have as much of it as they used to. 

This was why, when their mother needed money to visit their father, who fell very ill, Y/n set out to find a job.

Replacing her mother at her job in the nurse's office wasn’t going to work- she was horrible with sitting still for too long. Besides, her hands were far too shaky to hold silly little fiddly needles. No, there was no chance she would do that. 

She could try to get a job at a shop- a bakery possibly? But no, she had little patience for old people, who were always either very interesting and passionate, which she loved, or very snooty and cold, which she despised with every cell of her being- and unfortunately, the majority of customers were the elderly, who shopped when they had nothing else to do during the day, and they were predominantly of the latter kind. 

Y/n was positively puzzled- stupendously stumped and magnificently muddled. She knew she was talented, but what job would she fulfill that would be of use and make a substantial pay? She pondered that all morning as she completed her chores- tending to the animals and picking up more wood. Once inside, she stoked the fire, made two cups of tea and sat at the dining table. 

“Saf!” she called to her sister upstairs. “Bring your packet and come to the table- it’s 9:30!”

At the age of 13, girls were forced to graduate school. Ma and Y/n, who didn’t believe this was enough of an education, devised a plan- once graduated, the L/n girls would do tutoring sessions with Y/n, who was passionate and proficient in all areas of English, which was what the girls would require the most to function in the world. She would also help with arithmetic- though it was not her strong point, she was confident in the skills they would probably need. Safia was under the tutoring of Y/n, as would Ula the next year. 

As she waited for the pitter-patter of Saf’s feet down the stairs, she thought to herself. Unfortunately, all natural thoughts seemed to lead in the same direction lately- all pertaining to a certain tall and lanky individual with brown hair. She was not moping, that was for sure- Y/n did not mope. She was not even upset about him choosing a different woman over her- that was a fleeting insecure thought held only in the heat of the moment that night. No, she was mad. Furious, in fact. How dare he- how dare he?! He strung her along, purposefully got her hopes up for the mere sake of making fun of her- he embarrassed her and then had the utter gall to smirk and wink about it afterwards! Y/n always had a temper, but this was anger on a whole different level. This was searing, hot, burning, blood-red vexation. Her hands began to ball into fists- she wanted to hit something, break something, hurt him and only him. 

However, before she could fantasise about all the ways she would cause him pain, she felt a soft arm on her shoulder. She must’ve been caught in a trance, unable to hear her sister come down the stairs and call her name once she reached the bottom and found Y/n unresponsive, as Safia’s face held deep concern, eyebrows knit together as she repeated her question. 

“Are you okay, Y/n?” her tentative and soft voice carefully asked, placing a hand on her forehead to check her temperature, ever the sweetheart. “You’re not feeling ill, are you? I know Liz was rid of her sickness a few weeks ago, but it may have lingered around the house.”

She smiled up at her younger sister, who moved her hand to feel her cheek, after finding no suspiciously hot temperature on her forehead. She shook her head and let out a small laugh, all of the rage for him leaving her thoughts. 

“I’m okay Saf… just thinking…” she replied honestly. She was just thinking… thinking of how she would pelt that damned boy with logs of firewood. Or maybe she should let Flynn at him- she had already told the Clydesdale of what had happened. Maybe he could stomp him down till he quivered and shook with fear, begging both of them for forgiv-

“Thinking about what?” Her sister’s voice pulled her out of her reverie once again.

Y/n looked up at her face, smiled brightly, pulled out the adjacent chair and patted it lovingly, before replying with a jolly tone.

“Nothing that you should worry about… Now, are you ready to venture into the world of Hedda Gabler?”

Her sister smiled sweetly before sitting down, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Of course I am!”

“Great! Because today, we are going to be analysing gender and how it influences power within our passage!” Y/n was always so excited to teach her about the books, poems and plays that she liked- there was no way she would teach her sister boring and dull theory, or pieces that only reflected a man’s perspective. No, she had an opportunity to open her sister’s mind and hopefully make a lasting impact on it- one that encouraged her to pursue her dreams without needing the opinion or permission from a man. And she wasn’t going to waste it. 

“Now, open to our bookmarked page, and let’s begin…”

*****

After finishing classes, Y/n got dressed and ran out the door before her sisters could follow her, unable to take all of them to the village on Flynn, and not wanting to upset anyone. She buckled the saddle into place and hopped on before riding the path all the way to town. After tying Flynn up with hay and water, she straightened out her dress and apron and began walking, dodging men who gave her glances of annoyance for her slightly messy loose hair, mussed on the fast journey on the Clydesdale. She had bigger things to worry about, despite what Liz would say…

She was picking up some lemons from the market, which Ula insisted on getting, convinced that they were necessary to her social status in her school, where pickled lemons were the talk of the town. While the need for lemons didn’t sound dire to Y/n, Liz benevolently gifted her extra loose change, justifying it with something about “knowing what it was like to not fit with others at school”. And while Y/n didn’t believe money like five whole dollars should go to waste on lemons, she still searched the shelves intently, looking for some that weren’t too costly. While leaning forward, she walked through an aisle, scouring the lowest shelf for them, unaware of the person she was about to bump into. Curse her clumsiness! 

She walked right into the unsuspecting person before standing to full height, apologies spilling out of her rapidly as she helped the older lady regain balance. Y/n had never seen her before- an older woman, around her own mother’s age, with brown hair that was greying from the roots and forest green eyes that twinkled, reminding her all too much of a certain boy, but she pushed those thoughts away. She also looked of money, with her elegant dress, shoes and shiny jewels.

Y/n began spilling out apologies as it was her own fault for the collision, and the kind lady forgave her each time with a “That’s all right, my dear”, with calming energy radiating from her. Once the two women had settled they let out breathy chuckles at the incident. Beginning to move back to her search for cheap citrus was halted, however, when Y/n noticed the woman seemingly struggling to find what she was looking for. Y/n observed covertly as the lady would gingerly pick up a bottle of what looked to be cologne, look at the label for a few seconds, squint as if to make out what it was saying, before putting it back nervously and repeating with the next. 

Y/n noted that when she would “read”, her eyes didn’t stop to comprehend the words. She needed help, and Y/n was not one to shy away from that fact. 

“Hello,” Y/n began. 

The lady smiled sweetly as she replied, her green eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“Hello, love.” she gently replied. 

Y/n wanted to help without seeming patronising, so she was careful with her words. “So, what brings you here, Ma’am?”

She looks around, then down at the glass bottle in her hand before looking back at Y/n. She fumbles and hesitates as she answers.

“Oh- well- I am looking for this shoe polish, but… I seem to be having a bit of trouble…”. She went beet red before she whispered in a meek and quiet squeak only fairies could hear. Fairies or those who had experience with shy sweethearts as Y/n had with her Saf. 

“You-“ she slightly huffed a bitter laugh through her nose. “You probably can already tell, but… I can’t read…” she confessed, thoroughly embarrassed.

If Y/n wanted to help the woman before, her holding cologne that would most certainly tarnish leather while shopping for shoe polish convinced her utterly and completely. She did not hesitate- not even for a beat, determined to show that there was nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all! 

“I can help you! I never use shoe polish- my shoes are always getting muddy anyways, and it would only be a pain to scrub them for nothing, so I don’t have any suggestions in mind, but if you have an idea of the type of polish you wanted, I could help you out!” She dropped personal anecdotes into the conversation, as she often did when conversing with strangers, finding it easier to comfort others to relax around her when they knew she was an open book.

“Oh thank you, my darling! I am looking for a dark brown and black coloured polish that would work best for making leather loafers shiny.” 

And with that, Y/n began her search, starting with going to the correct section, before beginning to scan the tiers of the shelves carefully, looking for what the lady wanted. The woman followed her and began a friendly conversation with her as she searched. 

“My nephew needs new polish for his shoes. I would have told him to do it himself, but he’s out of town, you see. Went out of town, about a week’s trip away. I couldn’t send my maid either- I wished for her to take some time off while there were less people in the house, you see. So here I arrived, figuring I could just find it myself. Ah, how foolish.” She then sighed once more after simmering in laughter for a bit, looking wistfully at another tin she could not decipher the contents of. 

Y/n found the two tins of shoe polish, holding them out to her while responding firmly. “Ma’am, you are not foolish at all. At least you tried! And look, here you are helping your nephew who’s out of town, after letting your helpers take a break! That’s not foolish, that’s compassionate,”.

The lady smiled warmly, the wrinkles next to her eyes crinkling and creasing beautifully as she did. “Oh, darling, you are very sweet for using your gift to help those who cannot. Thank you!” She lightly squeezed Y/n’s cheek playfully before walking to the counter, Y/n following after her before placing the tins on the table for the cashier to process. 

“You are very welcome Ma’am.” The lady began to pull open the small embroidered coin purse she had in her slightly wrinkled yet sturdy hands, fishing for a coin before dropping it into Y/n’s palm and winking. 

Y/n’s eyes went wide as she attempted to hand the coin back. 

“Ma’am, I couldn’t possibly. I was just trying to be of service, truly. Please take your money.” 

But the woman was not having a lick of it. Her face grew stern, her eyes fiery as she quickly snapped back. “Don’t you dare try to give that back, it’s yours!”

Y/n reluctantly smiled and nodded gratefully before walking back to the shelves to continue her search for lemons as the gentle tinkle of the doorbell indicated the sweet lady’s exit. She could not stop thinking about her, however. Why was it that men were taught to read and write and build and farm, but women were only taught how to be good mothers and wives? That woman could learn to read- anyone could, really. All she needed was a teacher… 

Suddenly, Y/n had an idea. One that caused her to drop everything she was doing and run out the door to look for the woman. Teaching! Y/n could teach the woman and in return, get a bit of money! After looking around, she found her walking down the cobbled street, seconds from entering a very expensive and fancy carriage. 

“WAIT MA’AM!” Y/n cried, weaving past the people and carts on the busy street as she ran to her. The lady’s ears perked and she looked back, locked eyes with Y/n and froze with concern, allowing the younger girl to catch up. 

“Yes, my dear?” She asked, once Y/n had caught up and was attempting to catch her breath. After a few deep, embarrassingly wheezy breaths, Y/n finally calmed herself down enough to respond. 

“Icouldteachyou-”, she said exasperated all in one sentence before punctuating it with a heaving breath. After taking a lungful or two of air, she clarified to the poor confused woman.

“Ma’am, I could teach you how to read! If you would like!”

The woman’s eyes opened wider in astonishment before her face brightened with a radiant smile. “You would teach me?” She asked, almost flabbergasted.

“Yes, of course!” Y/n responds, enthusiastically. “I am currently teaching my sisters how to read, so I know how to do it! I could help you too if you would like!”

The woman’s warm and grateful smile shone brighter than the sun. And Y/n’s heart stuttered with excitement when she asked to exchange addresses for further communication. 

This was it… she was finally going to help her family.

******

It was four days later when the L/n residence received two letters, both with express stamps on them, signaling their importance. One was a letter from their father, which the girls were keen to read immediately, but waited for their mother to come home so they could unveil it together. The other, however, was mysteriously addressed to and only to Y/n. How peculiar! 

“Y/n you must open it in front of us- what if it is a secret admirer hoping to eagerly profess their love to you!” Ula whined. Liz shook her head and looked at the youngest girl. 

“If Y/n wants to keep this to herself, she exercises her right to do so”. Liz’ eyes drift to Y/n’s slowly as she continues. “…However…”, before finally running and springing onto her. “You MUST tell us if it is!” 

Y/n rolled her eyes at her sisters, despite Liz’s best attempts to put an end to the “unladylike” and “brash” behaviour. “Come on, there is no way it will be a boy… have you ever even seen me with one? I would run circles around them in every sense before their tiny minds could even get a singular word out!” 

Y/n, though thoroughly believing in her statement that yes, she probably could outshine any boy in the town, also- in the back of her mind- registered that yes, maybe she was overcompensating and exaggerating just the smallest bit in order to shield her heart, still sore from the events of Tilly Hughes’ ball and that wicked boy. Her sisters chuckled at her musing as she made herself comfortable on the sofa chair next to the fire, all three of her sisters huddling behind her in order to get a good view of the elegantly folded and wax-sealed letter that Y/n began to tear open. Once the pristine paper was unfolded, she stood up and began to pace as she read- her sisters giggling and breathing over her shoulder was doing no good, and she needed to focus. It read:

Before Y/n could process the words written on the paper, Liz narrated the letter to Saf and Ula- the latter began to squeal mercilessly, while Liz grinned from ear to ear, pores radiating with pride for her sister. 

*******

The house was astonishing. It was grand, it was elegant, it was pristine.

Above all, it was capital!

The trek down the natural and lush path of trees and fields was all a ruse- Y/n knew Ms Ophelia was a rich woman, but she but any preconceived notion of what her house may look like while trekking the trail was completely, utterly, jaw droppingly decimated. Once reaching the end of the driveway (walking ever so slowly to take the majesty in), Y/n and Flynn were met with pristine hedges that bordered the entire property. Two large white marble columns with oil lamps attached signaled the beginning of the courtyard. In between them, was a large opening where Y/n could see the greenest grass she had ever witnessed, a center hedge path, and behind it, Ms Ophelia’s grand home. Y/n’s mouth was hung open as she approached the large, stark white building, with its covered entrance, wide expanse and huge windows. 

It was a stretch for it to even be called a house. It was a mansion- a manor. Y/n resolved that there must be a plethora of family members that justified the sheer volume of space there was to occupy. She stepped off of Flynn, held the end of his reign, and walked through the grassy courtyard and to the front door. She would have taken Flynn to the stables, not wanting her first introduction to her well-paying student to be interrupted by the attention-hungry Clydesdale, however, the house was so grand she could not even begin to wonder where the hell the stables could be. Instead, she smoothed the light wrinkles out of the frock that Ula picked for her, slightly disgruntled when remembered the lack of a waistcoat she had on. She attempted to fix and flattened the now slightly frizzy hair that Liz had spent almost an entire hour to style, mussed a tad due to the breeze created while riding Flynn, before taking a deep breath in... and rang the doorbell.

She heard some muffled clattering, before hurried footsteps approached, growing louder and louder before they reached the mahogany door, pulled open to reveal a positively ecstatic Ms Ophelia- her brown hair pulled back with a hair pin, but similar in frizziness to Y/n. Her eyes squinting with her warm closed lip smile, the green irises truly dazzling with excitement. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant green and white silk dress, her chest adorned with a single thin gold necklace threaded through a small locket. 

"Y/n!!! So nice to see you!” The lady took Y/n and Flynn in with a charming smile, cooing at the latter before stepping forward to give the Clydesdale a stroke down his white blaze and a scratch on his chin, causing him to preen, closing his eyes a soft huff of pleasure. She then looked to Y/n. “Please, my farmhand Thomas will take this handsome boy to the stables out back."

She looked past Y/n to the front garden and called to the man Y/n hadn't noticed had been planting flowers. He had shiny blonde hair, short from the sides while the top was long and messy, slightly damp with sweat. He pushed the golden mess out of his face and smoothed it back, revealing a bit of dirt on the sun-kissed skin of his forehead. Descending down, there were thick eyebrows, hazel brown eyes squinting in the glare of the sun, a strong nose, and full lips that were pursed and curved into a sweet and friendly smile. He stood, brushed himself off, approached Y/n, and wordlessly took Flynn with a charming smile, nodding to her before walking around to the side of the house. After losing sight of him, Y/n looked back to Ms Ophelia, who opened the door and gestured Y/n in. 

"Please do come in!" As Y/n stepped through the threshold of the house, Ms Ophelia continued. 

"I was just about to make myself a cup of tea- I warmed up enough water for the both of us. How do you take it?" The older woman began walking, Y/n trailing behind her as they entered the beautiful eggshell white kitchen with purple accents.

"Oh, well if it isn't a bother, I take one sugar and only a bit of milk" Y/n watched as the woman poured the boiling tea into the two mugs. 

"Huh!" Ms O looked at Y/n funny, before looking down at the cups she was working on. "Me too! Just enough milk to make it a very dark brown?"

Y/n’s eyes begin to light up incredulously. "Yeah! That's right! My sisters all think that I never put enough in!" 

"My nephew does too!" 

The women looked at each other and smiled- they both knew there was some sort of connection that brought the two of them together, and that they would be kindred spirits. 

*******

The lesson went swimmingly, as agreed by both Y/n and Ms Ophelia (sorry- just Ophelia, the older woman had been very adamant about that). They had sat and begun with the alphabet, and while Ophelia was quite bashful when Y/n corrected her, they knew that with time, they would become more comfortable. Eventually, despite her consistent imploring that she stay for dinner, Y/n insisted she must go home. 

"But my nephew will be home soon! He is such a charming, well articulated boy! Loves reading and the such- You two would get along so delightfully!" She clapped her hands eagerly at the thought, however, Y/n, softly stroking a saddled Flynn- thanks to Thomas, who wordlessly passed her the reins before walking off- looked at her new student and friend with a soft smile. 

"I'm sure anyone who grew up around you would be a wonderful friend, Ophelia, however I really must get home. My family will be expecting me soon."

Once goodbyes had been exchanged, they agreed to meet once again in a few days. And with that, Y/n mounted Flynn and began to ride the now dusky ride home. She may have dawdled a little- the sun was still so warm, and the breeze was beautiful. Flynn moved at a comfy pace as she appreciated the beauty of the world around her. 

However, that beauty was soon not in her focus when Y/n noticed someone riding towards her in the distance. She continued her pace, and as the figure approached, ready to return a polite nod if they were to greet her. As the figure continued on further, she squinted and began to make out a mop of brown hair, and a black blob of a coat, before all too quickly she recognised those sharp green eyes and the nose and those stupidly plush lips as he trotted closer and closer and god- oh no…

Y/n began to feel her stomach drop.

"Well well well! Look who it is!" That snide voice, that blasted smirk that taunted her. 

It was her arch nemesis.

His horse slowed down while she did nothing to stop Flynn, walking completely past him without even acknowledging him- her eyes forward and steely. She thought she had escaped him but she heard footsteps coming closer, however, and soon, Y/n was walking side by side with none other than Harry Styles. 

"What's with the cold shoulder, sweetheart? Have I done something to upset you?" He taunted in a teasing tone. 

"I am not your sweetheart, and don't you have a party to crash, loverboy?" She rolled her eyes and kept moving forward, him keeping an identical pace beside her.

"Ooft, take it easy darling, you’re going to hurt my. Large. Throbbing. Swollen. Red. Hot. Heart!" He punctuated each word with a beat, and Y/n's face became hot; she began to scrunch the sweaty leather reigns harder into her palms at the obvious innuendo. Harry saw this and grinned wickedly for getting to her, a malicious giggle even seeping out of him- he enjoyed this. He enjoyed relishing in her awkwardness. Once his giggles calmed, he shook his head and continued. "What are you doing out so late anyways? Meeting up with a secret lover?" 

Y/n couldn't even dignify that with a response, and merely scoffed and rolled her eyes again at the preposterous accusation. He noticed and continued.

"Hey, you scoff at that now, but who knows. It seems to be the quiet, pure ones that surprise me the most. The most proper girls always turn out to be the dirtiest. So, no- I don't think it's out of this world for a little thing like you to be getting your hands or mouth sullen for a bit of pleasure. Did you see the way you trembled for me the night we met? And the way you cried when I was paying attention to that little French girl? Don't lie, you were charmed, and seeing me with someone else broke your fragile. Little. Heart." 

He was unbelievable for bringing that up again… Y/n felt her rage boiling now. She responded bitterly and slowly. "Please, you are so full of yourself…. And of course you would know all about women and their sexuality, now wouldn't you"

"Hard to scorn someone for being likeable, isn't it, Grumpy?"

Y/n had to stop her horse fully and glare at the idiot. She looked deep into his eyes, calmed down and began to smile. She was in complete and utter disbelief. She shook her head and giggled a peal of bitter laughter. Harry’s face darkened in irritation. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

Y/n’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as her giggles quelled. "It's funny that you think you are likable, Harry. You see, there is a difference between being desirable, and being easy. And it’s only the thoughtless ones like you who seem to be incapable at telling the difference. Not a thought behind those eyes, is there?... I wouldn't be surprised if you'd thought with your cock so much that your brain had atrophied due to the lack of use. You're not likeable, Harry Styles... you're just a plaything for widows and repressed virgins who wish to piss off their fathers to use and discard. And I cannot help but feel sorry for you for being the only one who cannot see that."

If she was not mistaken, Y/n believed she saw a bit of surprise and possibly even hurt in his eyes before they hardened, their playfulness completely drained. She did not think she was going to say that at all, and in any other situation, she would have thought that to be such a mean thing to say... But she had been sitting on that for far too long, and he had pushed her over with the teasing and the cockiness. She had had enough. Harry Styles needed to be brought down a peg or two.

They stared each other down fiercely, neither wanting to stand down. Then, he quickly shot at her. "You are nothing but a poor virgin with a gabby mouth that you wish was stuffed with my cock." he spat with nothing but poisoned malice.

Ouch… He was trying to catch her off guard, an attempt to garner some pride back, and while it immediately hurt Y/n, the wound of embarrassment growing in her heart, she knew she could not let him win. She quickly locked and loaded, before pulling the trigger without thinking. 

"And you are nothing but a dirty harlot who wastes his privilege of manhood on being a tart to women who don't even want him." she spat back at him. 

Targets acquired and shots fired, the two needed to go home and lick their wounds, crudely bandage their bullet holes and hope the sharp pain of the words spoken were only a temporary detriment to their own health, but an everlasting hellscape to each other. Both wanted to see the other in pain. Both wanted to win.

So with that, Harry made a big show about rearing his ashy grey horse up and around, before both of them spurred their horses forward into a gallop and away from the other- both carrying furrowed eyebrows, slightly hurt feelings (that they would never admit to), and a newfound degree of ire for each other…

He won’t get away with this.

********

Once tacking up Flynn, Y/n stomped her way to the house, still unbelievably enraged by the verbal warfare engaged with that brunette ass. She knew she wanted some alone time to calm down, but once entering her cosy home, she was bombarded with questions from her sisters- mainly Ula.

“Was the house big?!”

“What kind of dress was Ophelia wearing?!”

“How many servants did she have?!”

“Did she have lots of paintings on the walls?!”

“Any handsome sons?!”

“Did she tell you if she’s been to any exotic places like France or Switzerland?!”

“How was your day, Y/n?”

The last question was asked, of course, by her angelic sister Safia. Y/n lovingly rolled her eyes at the incessant questions from Ula and answered Saf’s tenderly. “My day was alright Saf, thank you for asking.”

“That’s good- I wished hard on all the dandelions I could find outside that you would come home safe and sound.” Y/n’s heart melted- she walked over to the younger girl and kissed her forehead with so much love and passion.

Ula observed the tenderness of the exchange and rolled her eyes. “Safia is perfect”, she taunted with a roll of her eyes before returning to her previous exercise of pulling up on the septum of her apparently “hideous” small aquiline nose to shape it into a more button nose, which she believed to be more elegant. Y/n looked back at Saf and whispered lovingly in her ear.

“Never stop wishing for the people you love the most, okay Saf?” Y/n gave her one more kiss before moving to the youngest sister with the most spunk besides Y/n herself. She gently swatted her hand away from her nose before lovingly stroking the bridge as she pulled Ula in for a hug from behind.

“And you, little missy! Stop trifling with the features your parents so lovingly passed to you. That nose isn’t a curse, it’s a gift. Treat it as one.” She kissed Ula’s head too before heading further into the house to greet her older sister and her mother. But as they had dinner, Y/n could not stop thinking about how much she hated Harry… little did she know, however, that her older sister Liz observed her suspiciously throughout the night.

Once in their room, hair and teeth brushed, dressed in their respective pyjamas- Liz’s a dainty white nightgown akin to the one Harry so scandalously described, and Y/n’s a mismatched patchwork buttoned set that Ma had made out of Y/n’s old clothes that she was too big to fit into, yet could bear to part with. Tucked into their beds, Liz turned to face Y/n and began.

“If Ms Ophelia was so very nice, what is the problem?”

Y/n turned to face her with furrowed brows. “What problem? There is no problem”

Liz rolled her eyes and shot back. “Yeah yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, Y/n. You can fool Ula- which isn’t saying much, but you can't fool me, so why don't we pretend like I tirelessly needled it out of you and you skip to the bit where you tell me what’s wrong”

Y/n sighed a long, hard, tired and frustrated sigh, before ultimately giving in. “I ran into a sworn enemy on the ride back home today…”

Liz shot up, eyes wide and mouth agape.“Who?!?”

“Harry Styles.”

Elizabeth stared incredulously at her sister, propped her pillows so she was sitting up, and began needling Y/n for more information. “What did he say? What did he do? Why is he your enemy?”

Y/n sighed. There was no way she was going to get to sleep until she told Liz everything. So she began…“You know of his reputation, yes?”

Y/n’s older sister gasped again. “Y/n… don’t tell me… he… with you?”

Y/n immediately understood what she was insinuating. “NO! No way! Never! Not in a million years! You know I hate everything to do with boys. I cannot believe you would think that of me!”

Liz sighed and sunk into herself in relief. “Thank god! I didn’t think you would but… unfortunately his reputation is quite… damning to say the least. Why, it was only last week he was with Amelie… did you see the way he returned her to the group? He didn’t even bother to wipe her lipstick from his lips! What a brute!”

Y/n brought her blanket up even closer to her face until only her eyes were visible, and mumbled her confession. “I know… I told him exactly so today…”

The older sister slowly started at her, tone changing completely to one low and testing. “What...That he is a brute?”

“Yes of course!” Y/n immediately shot back, exasperated.

Her sister stared at her with her mouth agape and eyebrows intensely furrowed. “...WHY?! Haven’t you heard of his family?!?” At Y/n’s confused face and shaking head, Liz took a deep breath and began. His father lives all the way in New York… Ma told me it was because he was absolutely dreadful to his wife and Harry all the time. Kept money from them, abused them, hit them- so much so that eventually they had to run away from him when he was only 10. They fled to a safe place- some cottage in the middle of nowhere? But get this- once there, his mother contracted scarlet fever and passed away. He had to walk all by himself to the nearest village to call for help- by the time medical assistance arrived, his mother was long gone. And with no other relatives bar his wicked father, he was left in the care of his devilishly deviant, yet disgustingly rich aunt.”

Y/n went completely silent. She didn’t know any of this… Of course this was deeply traumatic and saddening- but Y/n could not help it- her stubbornness was a curse, not a gift. And the curse would not allow even a tale so sorrowful allow Harry a free pass. 

“Liz- of course this is deeply tragic and traumatic- however, circumstances can only explain actions. They don’t justify them. What has happened to Harry should mean that he spends his time helping women, not putting them down… which, I guess he does by pleasuring them, but God I wish he wasn’t so smug and pompous about it… He was so- well, not nice, but normal and cheeky and charming, when we first met- it was like a switch flicked in his head and that man no longer exists”

“Of course- if he is as cruel as you say, I 100% agree. Although he has a right to hold trauma, it does not change the fact that he is but a wicked man”

The girls sit in silence for a second, contemplating. Then, ever the know it all, Liz jumped right back into her Styles Family History Lesson, giving Y/n the run down. 

“But anyways, his aunt is apparently a very influential figure! She’s rich beyond belief, and could probably control this entire town with the pulling of some strings and some money, which she most definitely has! Do not fool around with them, Y/n… especially not Harry…” Elizabeth brought her hands up to her temples to sate her sudden headache, a frequent occurrence when having to feel stressed for Y/n whenever she inevitably threw herself into apparently unacceptable situations, such as whistling in public or not wearing gloves, and had no apparent regard for the consequences. 

“What am I to do then?! He is my sworn enemy- if I see him in my general vicinity, my whole body and soul tells me to rip him to shreds! How am I supposed to see him at balls, and on random walks back home, and NOT rip my hair out of my head?!” Y/n complained with a whiny tone.

“Avoid him! Completely and utterly avoid him”

Y/n harrumphed. “...Fine…”

“Good idea- I know… plus… you know what they say.” A lilt of cheekiness entered the previously stern tone. 

“What?”

A wide smile grew on Y/n’s older sister’s face, unable to hide her amusement. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Who knows- maybe he just fancies you? You know… like likes you” 

Y/n immediately threw a spare pillow at her sister’s head and groaned, before burying her hot face under the covers, completely and utterly embarrassed. Elizabeth dodged the stray pillow as she laughed raucously at how annoyed her sister became. 

Y/n shook her head vehemently. “Never in a million years, Liz…”

Never in a million years…

*********

“Make sure you avoid making the “Z” look like the number “three”. Remember, small angled curl, then draaaaaag down to make a bigger and longer angled curl. Other than that, Ophelia, I must inform you that unfortunately my work may as well be over… because these have to be some of the best cursive letters I have ever seen- I know that I have only ever taught my younger sisters, but I am nothing short of confident that you are the fastest learner I have ever had, ever!” 

Ophelia put her hand up to her chest and let out an exasperated breathy laugh that combined a giggle and a sigh of relief. “Stop it Y/n… you nearly gave me a heart attack! Anyways, it’s not that great.” She emphatically waved her hand as if to physically shoo the thought away. “I believe that as long as I am able to write and read, who cares about the blasted handwriting. As long as it is- at the very least- legible, I don't mind a thing.”

Y/n could not emphasise this enough: she loved Ophelia. She was sweet, funny, sarcastic, naughty and brash enough to understand all of Y/n’s jokes as simply that- jokes with no malice. Y/n admired her face thoroughly in amazed silence. Ophelia glanced at her and continued. “Now, would you like a cup of tea before you go?”

Y/n was shaken out of her trance and began to pack up her books as she responded. “No, thank you. I'm okay- I really should get going though. The wind is picking up and as much as I would love to stay and chat, I don’t really think being cold and wet is how my mother wants me to return home!”

Y/n bids Ophelia farewell from inside the house before going out back to meet Flynn at the stables. However, she sees another figure tending to him, and as she arrives closer, she notices not Thomas’ blonde messy hair- but instead a soft brown colour. 

Jesus Christ, this guy will just not leave her alone, will he?!

Y/n is about three feet away when the figure finally turns, and she is once again met with the cheeky smirk of Mr Harlot Styles. He looks her up and down carefully, making her insides all squirmy under his inspection- she hated the way he made her feel so uncomfortable in her own skin. Once finding her eyes, he began. 

“Grumpy…”

“Harlot… Leave Flynn alone. He doesn’t like jaded asses.” Y/n crossed her hands over her chest and stood with a cold hard stare.

“Flynn? Pretty name.” Harry looked at Flynn and continued. “Does the angry little lady dump her frivolous complaints and girly problems onto your poor back, my friend?” Harry looked back to Y/n and continued. “ And hey, he might hate jaded asses, but apparently, he loves temper tantrum-throwing toddlers if he’s your horse.” 

If she didn’t know how horrible of a person he was, she would classify the way he was scratching Flynn’s chin as lovingly- but Harry wasn’t loving, and he certainly wasn’t capable of loving. He was a beast. Just another man who thought Y/n spent her hours with her equine companion complaining as if juvenile… and what the hell are “girly problems”?! 

Harry chimed in again, breaking her out of her frustrated train of thought. “Huh! Would you look at that, Grumpy- your jaded ass-hating “noble” steed’s loyalty can unfortunately be bought by absolute strangers!”

He smirks up at her as he pulls a sugar cube from his pocket and holds it out to Flynn, who eagerly licks it up, jutting his snout into Harry’s hand to spur some more pats out of him. Y/n let out an angry huff. “Greedy traitor…” she mumbled under her breath to her horse, before taking a deep breath and got straight to the main issue, not wanting to spend any longer talking to him than she had to. 

“What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”

“God, I was just wondering when I would be in your lovely company again- you know- should I call a doctor for your hysteria? Because it is you, girly, who is consistently following me. I would be surprised due to your incessant reminders that you hate me, but I’m not. Your infatuation with me seeps through your shoddy disguise completely. Face it, Grumpy… you’re obsessed with me.” 

Y/n wanted to slap him so hard. Or at least shoot back some equally damning response, but Liz’s words echo in her ears to simply ignore him. So she simply comes closer, walking to the opposite side of Flynn and begins strapping her bag to Flynn’s side saddle pouch. 

“Your silence is deafening, Grumpy… Is this it? Are you finally admitting that you have been just another precious little schoolgirl obsessed with me this whole time? I bet you would look out your window and pray to every shooting star that floated by that you would see me again. Did you giggle with your little friends while braiding each other's hair about how much you want me? I bet you squirm under your covers in a little pure white virginal nightgown dreaming about my fingers and my tongue and my cock. I bet you're stupidly in love with me, huh Grumpy?”

Y/n hated the way he would describe typically feminine stereotypes with such condescension. She hated being treated like a little girl. Throwing Liz’s advice completely out the window, she couldn’t help but mumble under her breath- just a little something to hurt him. “What would you know about love, Daddy’s boy?…” 

If Y/n looked up from the saddle pouch she was working on, she would see Harry’s eyes blown wide with surprise. He looked so vulnerable- almost childlike- as if her comment transported him back to his father’s house. Before she noticed his silence, though, he schooled his face and began to round the horse, his eyes darkening. “And what would you know about anything? You’re just a pathetic little girl. You act as if you have experience with the world, as if you will be anything more than a boring old housewife, but you never will be…”

Y/n stared daggers into Harry as he stalked closer and closer until he was less than a foot away from her, their outerwear brushing against each other. If he simply wrapped his arms around her waist, their bodies would be flush against one another completely. Y/n had never felt so degraded. She was just another girl to him. She was just another girl to all other men. Her biggest fear was being forgotten- for her loving family- her creative sisters and amazing mother- to be forgotten… For all of the amazing women that she encountered at balls to be forgotten. To be married off and treated as property. 

Harry continues on his poisonous tirade in an unwavering cold and calm voice, striking the deepest of Y/n’s insecurities and fears with pinpoint accuracy. “You look down on my hobby of pleasuring married women, but what you don’t understand is that when you are unhappily married off within the next few years, you will be writing letters to me, begging me to relieve you. You will wish I wanted you… You will wish your husband wanted you… You will wish any man wanted you… You will wish you were special… But you're not.”

Y/n held her breath as his hands raised up from his sides, ringed fingers lightly trailing over her skirts, her waist, her arms, her shoulders. Higher and higher, they softly glided over the fabric of her puff sleeves, before reaching her face, and cupping her cheeks. Harry’s eyes slowly flitted back and forth between Y/n’s eyes and her lips. His brows furrowed and his mouth slightly opened, before lifting his right thumb to slowly pull down at her bottom lip... 

…then release the pressure created with his hold, watching- almost studying, its fullness intensely as it bounced back into place. Voice now barely above a whisper, rumbly and deep, he continues.

“You’re just another silly little girl who will be nothing but a wife someday.”

Harry’s hands moved from her cheeks to her neck, cupping her head, thumbs delicately tracing circles on the skin behind her ears, sending shivers up her spine. 

What was this? And why was it sending Y/n’s knees wobbly? She needs to snap out of it- remember her anger for him. All of her interactions with him, even this one, were merely strategies to throw her off- to dominate her. And she would not allow that.

So as Harry moved his hand to cup her neck, leaning in closer, she opened her mouth, ready to dismiss all logic and decimate the animal standing before her, attempting to kiss her just to intimidate her. Fuck everything- fuck him, fuck Liz’s advice, fuck men and their incessant need for girls to be prim and proper. Fuck all of them.

About to fire her biggest blow, all while he leaned closer and closer, his lips ever so close to touching hers, they were suddenly halted in their tracks by someone calling her name.

“Y/n!...” the voice was urgent but far away. Both Harry and Y/n looked out of the stable to see Ophelia running towards them. Y/n and Harry looked at each other and took a big step away from their close proximity as Ophelia finally reached the stables and held her hand on a wooden panel as she caught her breath, panting heavily. 

“Th-Thank-” A wheezy heave interjected her sentence. “GOD”. Another heave. “You hadn’t left yet!” She stood up straight and wiped the light sweat from her forehead with her wrist before straightening her back and walking closer to her. She raised her right hand, which held a small handkerchief, tied into a lovely little package. 

“I packed some hedgehog slice for you in case you get a little hungry on the way home!” She sighed exasperated, before looking between Y/n and Harry. 

Y/n’s heart melted a little- she came bounding all the way down just to give her a little snack? She was the sweetest woman in the world! And now Y/n was going to see her in action against the intruder to her property that was Harry Styles… Y/n was ready to see some ire and some spit hurled at him once she explained exactly what Harry had said about her and all womankind, really.

But that is not what happened.

Not at all.

Ophelia smiled warmly at Harry before looking at Y/n. “Ahh, I see you have already met my nephew, Harry!”

What. The. Hell?

Harry looked smug as anything as Ophelia continued. “He is the lovely, well articulated bookworm I was telling you about the other day!” 

Y/n gritted out a very hesitant “Nice to meet you…” as he looked at her, full of ego.

Harry then opened his mouth, presumably to tell his aunt about the intrusion that was Y/n’s presence on their land, but Ophelia quickly shut him up too. 

“And Harry, this is the bright and wonderful tutor and friend I was telling you about! Y/n is teaching me how to read and write!” 

Harry’s mouth shut immediately. It was Y/n’s turn to smirk smugly as he gritted out an “A pleasure to meet you” back. The two stared at each other steely, as if they were in a stand-off of the mind, all while Ophelia unknowingly watched on with a large smile. 

“I am sure you too will be fast friends! Don’t you agree?” Ophelia had so much hope in her voice. The two grit their teeth, not wanting to make a scene or displease the sweet Ophelia-

“Certainly…”, they manage to comment, in unison.

And after Ophelia hugs Y/n goodbye one more time, before turning and leaving, Harry tails after her, but not before giving a final glance back to Y/n. He smirked, the smile filled with boyish playfulness, but Y/n saw his eyes- those blasted green eyes clouded with taunt. He was challenging her. To what exactly- she didn’t know. To see who could hurt each other the most? To see who would win in the overall war between the two? Or was it just a smirk at her begrudging fate? That she would have to put up with him now because although Ophelia is a sweet woman, Y/n’s connection to her will never trump Harry’s- he’s her nephew. 

As Y/n saddled her was going to have to do what she wanted to the least in order to maintain both a professional and personal relationship with Ophelia, who she admired both as a student and as a friend…

She was going to have to be civil with Harry.

**********

Y/n believed wholeheartedly that it was punishment enough; that she was forced into both proximity and (at least) faux politeness with her sworn enemy- but evidently, fate had more to give. And damn, could it pack a punch!

It was almost silly that she hadn’t thought the universe had been through with her… When Y/n made the one-hour trip to Ophelia’s house, she just had to not bring her large, rainproof jacket. She just had to decide not to put Flynn’s horseshoes on, which would prevent him from slipping and sliding in the wet mud… Why would she do any of that?! It was perfectly sunny, and even a little bit warm on that Friday morning…

But no… of course, the moment she begins to wrap up her lesson with Ophelia and ride home- where she would tuck into a well-deserved late lunch and spend some time with sisters- of course it is only two days after she has discovered that her student raised and lived with her sworn enemy- it is then and only then that she finds herself stuck at their house, as a giant thunderstorm magically appears and begins raining hellish hail and pouring water from the sky. 

“Y/n, there is no way I am letting you ride home in this weather! That simply will not happen under my roof. I will send an urgent telegram to your mother to let her know you are safe and warm, but you are staying over for the night and that is final.”

There was no arguing with Ophelia. So no more than five minutes later, Y/n was being escorted through the maze that was her student’s mansion, and to a guest room she would be occupying for the night. She was sprawled on the giant, fluffy bed when she felt her skin crawl at a particular thought- though he had not appeared during her lesson, Y/n knew that Harry was somewhere in the house- Ophelia said so herself, as they walked to her room. What if they bumped into one another? 

“Harry is somewhere around here- I am sure that you two will be the bestest of friends- you have so much in common!”

Y/n had to awkwardly laugh and smile at that, agreeing as politely as possible so as to not arouse any suspicion- however, Ophelia seemed to take this for genuine interest though and began doubling down. 

“Hey, why wait until dinner- I can call him now!? Maybe Harry can give you a tour of the house- the gardens, the gallery, the library! Give me two seconds and let me go fetch him-” 

Y/n had never had such a visceral reaction in her life when she shouted a clear and desperate “NO!”... It took her a few seconds to recollect her thoughts before she attempted to save face; she halfheartedly dismissed the idea with a feeble excuse that she didn’t want to impose, and that she and Harry would have plenty of time to chat at dinner. Despite the suspicious glint in Ophelia’s eye, she did not press any further and left her to rest and unpack as she went to have a bath and take a relaxing nap before supper. 

Thus bringing us back to Y/n- sprawled on her bed, deciding that she would not leave the room until supper. There was no way she would risk bumping into Harry while wandering around his house. What if he had another sultry guest for the evening?! What if he shooed her off as if she was nothing but a fly?! Heaven knows he had done all of that before- and all on the same night! She began rummaging through her bag to retrieve her book, content on sitting down and reading as she waited for dinner, but as she rummaged, it dawned on her… 

Her novels, her personal pens and paper? All of them were either at home or in Flynn’s side saddle pouch, hanging in the stables- she had been carrying her personal books and papers for the past few lessons but found the weight quite heavy, and all for very little payoff- she rarely got a moment to read when she was in the middle of a very interactive, collaborative lesson. The reality of her situation collapsed on her as she brought her hands up to her face and let a frustrated groan into them- she was going to be stuck here in this room with no entertainment for the next four hours - Ophelia was occupied, her books and pens were with Flynn, and there were no reading materials in the beautiful yet empty chest of drawers and side tables of the elegant guest room.

There was no way she could sit quietly like this… She began to get cabin feverish already. She needed to get out… 

Harry wouldn’t be strolling about his own house, right? It was 2:30 pm on a Friday- surely there must be some work he had to complete? Y/n resolved that there was no way she would be able to continue to live if she didn’t have something to stimulate her mind, and the thought of passing up an opportunity to explore the various forms of entertainment in Ophelia’s vast house seems daft, even verging on sinful… 

So, with a deep breath, Y/n stretched her arms above her head, took a deep breath, and lifted herself off of the plush linen-covered mattress. She ever so slowly opened the heavy, beautifully intricate mahogany door and peeked out of the minuscule crack she created. 

Left, right, left again, right again. 

The coast seemed to be clear- she opened the door wider so that she could stick her whole head out of it. She looked left, right, left again, right again. You could say that she was maybe overreacting by being so very cautious, but she would rather not run into Harry and be forced to return to her room before she had acquired some entertainment and had a good look around the place.

Once she was completely sure that the coast was clear, she stepped out, gently closed the door behind her, and, with her hands behind her back, began to stroll the hallways curiously. Soon, her fascination with the grandeur of the mansion quelled her alertness and she found herself enamoured by the architecture as she walked down the hallways. 

She wished she could dip her head into every room she saw, but she wasn’t that daft- that would be one surefire way to overstep her welcome, especially when she was essentially stuck until the storm cleared up. 

She continued slinking around in a manner similar to Fennec’s- she took a right, and found herself walking down a hallway she would guess was near the back of the house, as the large windows to her left illuminated her pathway and showcased a beautiful array of pruned trees along a cobblestone path, with steps that led down to a beautiful, large pond filled with greenery. There was a small path that also winded around the pond and ventured into a beautiful, lush green forest. The rain pattered so beautifully onto the glass, creating beautiful shadows on the otherwise dim hallway. The house truly was magnificent. 

Once reaching the end of the hallway, Y/n was greeted with two very tall and wide arched wooden doors. She hoped and prayed she wasn’t about to walk into a personal room, before pushing in to peek at the contents. 

A large expanse of beautiful oak shelves befell her- filled to the brim with books. Books upon books upon books! Nestled so tenderly, they were wrapped in beautiful leather casings. 

Bingo! The infamous library!

Though there was a main seating area in the middle of the room- with comfy juniper green couches that looked a dream to rest upon, there were also many bay windows and little reading nooks to curl up in. Tucked into the corner was a desk, a chair and a reading lamp. In fact, there were lamps all around the room, however, most of the light came from the warm roaring fire that blazed in the fireplace. Y/n could imagine sitting in front of the fire on a pillow, a soft throw around her and a mug of tea between her crossed legs as she read Dickens. 

Y/n wove through each shelf, looking at all the amazing titles there were. There was everything here! Shakespeare and Dickens were classics, to be expected in most regal libraries, but looking closer, Y/n found Bronte and Austen too! Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Hans Christen Anderson’s fairy tales. This place had every book Y/n had ever read or wished to read! 

But something lingered in the back of Y/n’s mind…

If Ophelia cannot read, whose library is this? Who has so tenderly placed every book in alphabetical order, as well as sorted them by genre? Who has spent their time tediously gluing library cards to the inside of the back cover of seemingly every book, and has jotted down when they have been borrowed? Why would anyone ever do that, considering that most of them are read by assumedly the same person, judging by the ever so similar font and pen used to log the date of when the book was picked up and when it was finished?

Before she could finish her thought, the door suddenly opened. Y/n immediately cringed at the situation she was in- she could be caught snooping by Ophelia, oh how mortifying! As the heavy footsteps walked closer and closer to where she was, she weaved through shelves, attempting to find a spot to hide. She tiptoed through before flattening herself against a shelf at the end of the room, far from where the footsteps were heard. The unknown person’s gait was too heavy to be Ophelia’s and- 

Damn! 

If it was not Ophelia, there was only one other person it could be… 

She took a deep, silent breath before creeping her way to the edge of the bookshelf. She went to take a peek and see where the British bastard was, however, when she took one more step and stuck her head out, she was met with his body no more than five inches from hers. 

“AHH!”

“Shit!”

The pair jumped and shrieked for a quick second, not expecting the other to be so damn close. Y/n looked up to see Harry looked down at her with surprise and confusion. Her gaze panned down to his hands, noticing him carrying a brown leather bound book- it was smaller and very worn in. It looked beaten and bruised, like it had been read thousands of times. She couldn't see a title at all, but it wouldn’t matter- the moment he followed her eyes, Harry shoved the book behind his back. Her gaze snapped back up quickly enough to watch vulnerability flash in his eyes, before they set in his usual hardened gaze, infected with scorn.

He barked. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

This wasn’t nonchalant Harry- this wasn't a Harry that was prepared for her attacks. This wasn’t the Harry that used his suave and unaffected demeanour to torment Y/n as he coolly fired shot after shot at her soul. No, this was a more frantic Harry- a more aggressive, threatened Harry. 

“I didn’t know you were going to be here!” Y/n explained, her brows furrowing and taking on a defensive tone, hands flying emphatically. 

Harry did not reply at all. The pair stared at each other sharply. It was as if they were having a battle telepathically, staring deep into one another’s unwavering, unblinking eyes, lips pressed shut into little frowns, brows knit, each daring the other to say something more. To poke the bear more. To continue the fight. They stared and they stared until Harry looked her up and down, shaking his head and scoffing, before walking further into the library. 

He seceded first! HA! She won! 

This victory wasn't savoured for long, however- she soon realised how foolish she would look just standing there in Harry’s dust. She didn’t look back to see which way he went and she didn't care- she kicked her body into motion and strode out the front door. Once she was out, however, she pathetically scurried her way back to her room, mortified. Once through the door, she slammed it shut and laid back against the cool wood. She took a couple deep breaths in the safety of the guest room. Now alone, she was able to regain her ability to think.

Harry was holding a book in his hands, before shoving it behind his back? Was he… bashful? What book would have made Harry feel embarrassed?

Further, if it wasn’t Ophelia’s library, there realistically is only one other person it could belong to…

Y/n shook the idea from her head immediately. It definitely couldn’t be Harry’s- not only was he too brutish to read for leisure, but also, the books there were too beautiful, too tenderly cared for- many filled with little annotations. No, Harry could not treat a human decently, let alone a book. He wouldn’t know how! The one in his hand, however. Her heart just couldn’t let that go… 

Maybe that was his? The small, beaten and bruised book. What kind of text would prompt Harry to read it over and over and over again. What words moved him so much that he felt embarrassed to show Y/n. Ofcourse, this was probably for the best- realistically, the pair should both provide as little information of their identities to each other as possible. Less ammunition that way. 

But Y/n, head against the downy pillow filled to the brim with the softest stuffing, lulled by the gentle nose of the lavender oil spritzed on top of the sheets, could not help but innocently wonder if Harry had a favourite book. She always wanted someone to share her love of reading- a simple friend that she could rant and rave to other than her sisters who, despite not possessing the same fire and passion as Y/n when it came to literature, attempted their hardest to understand her speeches and monologues of theory. 

It was not a question- Harry could never be that friend to Y/n…

But God, did Y/n wish that stopped her from imagining a version of him that could be.

[shittalkcornstalk]

“Take One For The Team”

Part 2

Synopsis-The reader uses Buggy’s crush on them against him, but they’ll soon find that more people are aware of their scheme then they’d previously thought, and that for the plan to continue to work they’d have to sweeten the pot.

Warnings- xfemreader! , Use of Y/n, 18+ minor dni, Smut, mild manipulation on your part, alcohol use, weapons mention, age gap mention, Buggy is kind of creepy, just a little, masturbation, revealing clothes, mild allusions to pred/prey

A/n- Gahhhh I’m so happy y’all enjoyed the first chapter! Like I said last time, I’m quite new at this so getting so much support has been awesome! Once again please let me know if I missed tagging/warning about something! I have chapter 3 finished and chapter 4 is on its way!

Word Count- 2.4k

Chapter Two “A Woman’s Touch”

It was a horrible day for the Buggy pirates, a failed raid left Buggy absolutely pissed. It seemed no amount of little laughs or shoulder touches would put out this rage. You tried but were often met with grumbles and muttering. He felt weak and he needed to reinforce his power somehow, even if that cost your attention. That sacrifice only made him madder.

“I've been too soft on you pathetic lot, did you all witness the grand shittery I did yesterday. How embarrassing that was for me as a captain of what’s supposed to be one of the scariest crews on the east blue? You are asking for it now. You’re gonna return to your previous regiments, whipping you into the pirates worthy of Captain Buggy!”

And just like that back to square one. Your body ached after training and you were losing any ability to maintain the repertoire with Buggy. You didn't have the energy to care about how you said his name, or if you touched his shoulder that day. Laughing at his jokes was painful as it was, but now it was laborious. You wonder if Buggy had noticed your lack of enthusiasm, though this current you wasn’t far off from the original you he still liked, he seemed to look at you with anticipation to be met with not much in return as he unfortunately expected. Buggy was already pent up from the stress of entering the Grandline and now his favorite distraction gave him the cold shoulder.

You drink your rum and sob to Cabaji and Moji, who have training and your chores to maintain. After all, they still owed you for those 2 1/2 weeks in bliss. The three of you console one another when a figure approaches the little booth you huddle at.

“I know very well what the sneaky little three of you have been up to, and I want in,”

It’s Alvida, right hand of your Captain Buggy. Alvida was a powerful woman. As the only other woman on the ship, you’d teetered between a sense of comradery and an overwhelming intimidation from her. She was tall, thin, and gorgeous. She didn’t even register as one of Buggy’s crew as the clown never really phased her. But now she looked at you somehow desperately. She slumped down in the booth with you taking a big swig of her own drink.

“This game you've been playing with the captain, why’d you drop it all of a sudden- '' She pouted.

You play dumb in response “I have no clue what your talking about-“ You shift your eyes around the room”

“Oh come on misses ~captain buggy~” She mocks you with a high pitched tone clasping her hands together. “ You've been flirting with the captain and I have a strong feeling it's not cause you like him back, is it?”

Well shit, if Alvida knows, there's no point in lying. You look towards Cabaji and Moji and nod in agreement, you’ll let Alvida in on your little secret.

Cabaji explains the plan to have you lull the captain with a bit of flirting to keep him off our backs. Alvida smirks.

“And it worked clearly- but not anymore y/n, you've got to step it up for the sake of the crew. He can be such a prick all tensed up like this.” And just like the night the plans were initiated Alvida nudges you and says “Take one for the team-“ A phrase you are starting to loathe.

You do not like how this plan has evolved from subtle flirting to whatever Alvida, a woman known to use her whiles against men, had in mind for you.

“I don't know what you want from me Alvida, but I already told these two I am not sleeping with him, and if I’m being honest I don’t want to lead him on into the wrong idea-anything super direct is off the table”

“Well duh, you can do alot with very little, clearly we just need to sweeten the pot darling. Make those little moments all the more tempting. I do have a suggestion though that I think will up the anti so to speak. Come to my room tomorrow morning, bring your clothes- all of them”

“Fine, but now you have to let me have access to the private liquor cabinet on the ship-“

Alvida nods, “Fine it’s a deal, I’ll see you tomorrow-take a shower before you get there”

And you obliged, Alvida ran through your clothing picking out pieces and throwing others into a ‘no pile’. You quickly noticed which clothes were being encouraged . Tiny crop tops and little denim skirts, short shorts you knew rode in the crack and pretty much anything tight, colorful, and feminine. She'd even go as far as to cut up a few shirts and pants to accommodate your new ‘uniform’. Ones she'd swear would aid in the plan. Laying out a rather revealing outfit, you put it on and damn did it fit right. It showed off quite a bit, but anything to stop the torment. Alvida also set you up with a bit of a makeup and hair routine. Luckily your hair was already in good shape from the previous benefits Buggy allowed you, but makeup was a little different. Nothing much but Alvida took time to rosy up your cheeks, ecensuare your eyes, and make your lips juicy and kissable. You looked back at yourself in her full length mirror and you liked what you saw, hopefully Buggy did too, if this was to work he had to.

When breakfast time rolled around you made your way to the captains table, Alvida trailed slowly behind as you entered. This “new you” wasn’t too far off from your original appearance, it just made you stand out a bit more. It definitely reinforced that you were the only other woman on the crew, as you saw eyes look you up and down. Some from crew mates, Cabaji and Moji eyeing you snickering to themselves, but most importantly your Captain. His eyes widened and he took a break from the breakfast he’d been eating to set his fork down and eye you up. You knew at this point he’d been eyeing you on many occasions for a long time, but it was never this blatant. He shifted up and down your figure smirking to himself. This attention from so many people felt weird, there was a heavy tension in the room as you headed over to the Captain’s table to join your target for breakfast. He looked at you the entire time, and his eyes shifted to your thighs as they spread slightly as you sat down, a sight he’d never had the pleasure of noticing in your previous more concealing outfits. You look up at the idiots in front of you and they lean and dart their eyes towards the captain in a motioning way. It’s time for you to do your job, but this felt different, at least a little bit. Before you’d had full control over the situation, but now more exposed then you were used to and lingering eyes waiting for your next move you felt like you were being stalked. You swallow your anxiety, and look up at your Captain, smiling hesitantly.

“Good Morning Captain Buggy, how are you today?” Your voice waivers and if Cabaji and Moji didn’t know better they’d think you were actually intimidated by the man you mock so openly. The problem was you were intimidated.

“I’m doing great doll, especially now…” Buggy continues to eye you down, he’s eating up the hesitation in your voice, he thinks he’s getting to you, is he…? He grips his fork and takes a forceful bite, never shifting his eyes. While you're in a room full of people he’s made it feel as if it’s just the two of you. You can’t look away. Buggy the Clown is making it well aware to you now where you lie in the food chain and it’s under him.

“Any reason you decided to get all dolled up today? Don't get your hopes up sweets we aren’t going anywhere special-“

“Ah no reason at all..” You roll your eyes towards the others trying to break his gaze but it doesn’t let up. “Just trying something different I guess” You need some power in this situation, you’ve got to make this about him again somehow. You stumble out “Why…do you like it?” You cringe at how direct you were in that statement, hoping no one picked up on it.

He was caught off guard, his eyes widened and his grin stretched across his face. He leaned into you a bit to whisper to you.

“ Does it matter how I feel, doll? Do you want me to like it?” He said it in a hush tone, he may have wanted you badly but he didn’t need the rest of the crew to know that. He wanted this flirting to be just for you guys.

You gulp and finally break the tension with a stammering awkward response. Waving your hands and blushing profusely all you can get out is gibberish “What! No I mean…hahah..ahhh’” Looking for an out you see his plate is empty and grab your nearly full plate “looks like we both are finished I’ll take care of this…” and you storm away.

Alvida meets you at the kitchen after seeing the whole event transpire. She laughs at you and pats you on the back.

“You played that differently than I thought you would y/n it was incredible… I mean playing into the cutesy blushing mess is gonna eat at that man up for day. If I didn’t know any better I’d be convinced you actually at a crush on the son of a bitch-“

You are all heated up and just ugghhhh. “It’s not that it’s just I didn’t know he could be like that, all up close and personal. It totally took me out of my rhythm. I know he’s a feared pirate captain, but after seeing him get all blubbery and goofy from the other stuff I couldn’t imagine he’d have the self restraint to actually flirt- to be intimidating like that.”

Alvida chuckles “ I have to admit even I’m impressed he managed to elicit that response out of you, are you sure you don’t have a little crush on him? Cause I can help with that too if we’re switching course-“

“Noooo , I don’t know if I want to keep doing this if it’s gonna be this intense. What if this actually goes somewhere-what if we makes a move-“

“Come on Buggy probably just got a little too excited seeing you like this for the first time, you crossed all his wires and he came across a little strong. We’ll see how he is today and if the plan is still working. It’s up to you if you wanna continue doing this, but you saw how well it worked earlier, it made all of our lives easier, even Captains.”

It did work earlier, and it worked today. Captain had called for an independent study day, the crew was to work at and hone their own skills. It was still training, but leagues above the other regiments, on top of that he’d cooped himself up in his room working on charts for the day after breakfast. He’d hadn’t been overseeing the training, so you all had the opportunity to go at your own tasks pretty lazily. You ended in knife training with Cabaji and a couple others, working off some of that pent up tension from earlier. You had to put bike shorts under the skirt you were wearing to avoid flashing the others when you were practicing combat. Why did he get you like that? Why were his words sticking in your head so intently?

Captain Buggy was held up in his room. This morning was something else. He’d convinced himself he lost your attention after this week's aunslaught of training, but today's little stunt you pulled showed him you were still on your way to being all his. God the tiny skirt you wore with that tight sweater. He’d burned the image of your hips swaying over to the table, your eyes never leaving his, into his brain . You’d been too afraid to break eye contact at that moment, but to him it looked like an invitation, a way to tell him exactly what you were dressing like that for. He shuddered at the thought of you stuttering to him, the way your lips trembled saying his name. He wanted that again, he wanted you to shutter his name while he was on top of you. He felt himself stiffen at the thought of your thighs spread open on his bed, with that same cute embarrassed expression. “Hmmmmm” He’d canceled the regiment today because he knew he couldn’t bear to see you sweat in that outfit, he barely kept himself together at breakfast, and now he was begging for release. He began pumping at himself and a low groan rolled from his chest. He’d touched himself to you before but he’d never had this much to work off of. “God y/n please- fuck-“ He felt himself lose it under the thought of you. “You’re gonna be all mine, I’m gonna make you mine-mine-“ Before long, he felt his release to the thought of you. He shuddered at the mess he’d made. The pleasure was substandard to what he could only envision your touch to be like. He knew he couldn’t maintain like this for long, with you toying with him. He was determined to make you fall for him, even if that meant having your crew fall behind, he had to find opportunities to have you see him in a more casual light. Looking at the charts he plotted a course leading to a string of small towns filled. Perhaps you both needed a little vacation.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

June MC of the Month: Eva Archer

Please welcome June 2024's MC of the Month: @dutifullynuttywitch's Eva Archer

Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

Learn more about Eva below

1- In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

She’s an idealist, preoccupied by social justice. While at the Tower, she constantly fought the authoritarian leaders, which resulted in her and her sister needing to flee so she wouldn't ‘get disappeared’. Now that she’s leading her own colony, she is still trying to find the right balance, ensuring everyone’s voice is heard and feels welcomed.

2- Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I think we both lean towards social justice and fairness in our decision-making. And I definitely gave her some of my musical tastes! (Though I have more grunge and alternative in my repertoire.)

But other than that, Eva is much cooler than I could ever hope to be!! 🙂 She’s a fighter, brave, willing to put her life on the line for others.

3- What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Eva is not the bravest, but she is fiercely loyal to her friends. Being forced to leave her fatally injured sister Brynn, her only family, behind after narrowly escaping The Tower was the hardest thing she’d ever done. It left her deeply scarred. She refuses to lose anyone else she's close to and will put her own life on the line if she can save her friends or members of her colony.

Her friendship and frequent quests with Eli and Angel help her gradually feel more confident in her fighting skills. As a leader of the newly established Olympus Colony, she speaks up against injustices and tries to be conciliatory. What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

She despises cruel, self-centered people. Unfortunately there are too many in her post-apocalyptic world, who will do anything, kill anyone just to survive a day longer.

While she generally loves Troy’s easy-going attitude, she absolutely loses her temper when he shirks on his chores - which he unfortunately does regularly.

4- If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

She would find a cure for the parasite that converts people into zombies. She’s in no way a scientist, but she wholeheartedly supports her best friend Shannon Fox in her ongoing investigations.

5- What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song?

Wild Horses, The Rolling Stones.

It’s a bittersweet reaction, really, having lost both of her fathers in a horrible way (one became a zombie and killed his husband), and more recently her sister. She holds on dearly to the lyrics that “wild horses couldn’t keep me away”. It’s how she feels about Troy, and her friends Eli, Shannon, Angel, little May…

Her favorite quote is more inspirational: “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.” – Emily Dickinson

6- Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC?

I adored the Choices book Wake the Dead. Such an interesting, dark concept, where your choices matter, with tons of potential for world-building… I wanted to create a character that had lived through terrible things, resulting in deep-seated trauma, but at the same time could see the light in the world and continue to strive to better her life and that of those around her. This is how Eva was born!

7- Other facts about Eva

Eva was born close to Reno, Nevada before the zombie apocalypse.

She previously worked in pest control from the age of 18, then became a scout at 25 at her former colony, The Tower.

Eva is dating Troy Hassan, her childhood best friend from her Tower days. This was a slow burn, friendship to love. Troy’s an absolute charmer, knows her better than anyone and is her emotional support. He’s much more carefree, which brings out her lighter side – necessary with all the stress and pressures of running a colony during an apocalypse!

She dearly misses her sister Brynn, who died shortly after escaping the tower. Eva admired her fierceness and how she bravely ventured out as a scout every day to support the colony. Eva hopes to become as tough as her sister.

Thank you so much for reading through my MC profile, I had a blast sharing Eva Archer with you!! And thank you @choicesficwriterscreation for giving us the space to gush about our fictional babies!!

[crivalsduo]

for the ship ask game: 4, 6, 8 and 11

4. What are their favorite things about one another?

beyond the fact techno adores dream's laugh and smile, he loves how resilient dream is. he hates that he's had to be that way but man. dream keeps going despite everything.

for dream, techno is genuinely comforting. he trusts techno. for someone like dream, who is constantly worried about being weak, it's nice being able to rely on another person outside of any sort of plan or consideration of power.

6. What would their dream home look like?

unironically, techno's cabin.

i know that's a cop-out answer but in canon, that's just what i think would be the ideal for them. in horrible/happy, they do make some changes to the cabin, though! they build an addition for the kids. it's very nice and cozy <3 <3

8. What are their love languages, and how do they show each other affection?

both of them are big on acts of service and gifts. techno likes his grand gestures, you can see that in canon! and dream is the same way, giving people gifts to show he cares. it doesn't have to be big, really. flowers, a rock, new materials that could be useful. they do little things for each other like dream putting on a kettle or doing the chores in the morning so techno can sleep in. techno running a bath for dream and brushing his hair. things that they could do on their own but don't have to because now they have each other.

11. How do they comfort each other?

techno is more likely to comfort dream physically. he's a really affectionate person and dream, who went so long being touch starved, likes it even if he has a hard time admitting to him. it feels good to have techno wrap him up in his arms and nuzzle against him. he's safe at a moment when he feels the most vulnerable.

and dream lets techno just. be. it's hard to explain but techno is a pretty emotional person and willing to talk about his feelings but that's awkward for a lot of people in his life. dream gives him a place where he can talk about it, if he wants. or he can just sit there quietly and hold dream's hand while he stares at the fire and tries to process things.

[elvis-elk]

Don’t Cry Over Spilt Milk

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Fem!Reader

Hello hello, I’m not dead HAH. Guess what, I DID THE FIC. Might not be appealing to some, but I thought the idea was interesting. Deals with galactorrhea, which is just people inadvertently lactating. I’m still working on some other drafts, but college is slightly being in the way, but expect some new things soon!

Summary: You come home tired from a laboring day at work, and Elvis seems to cheer you up.

Word Count: 3K

Rating: E (Explicit) 18+ only!!!

Warnings: Soft fluff, slight breeding kink, fingering, milk kink, stripping, teasing, a little bit of self-stimulation.

Let’s dive in, shall we?

Driving home after a long day of work, you worked yourself past the gates, and into the driveway to reach your home, Graceland.

It was late, a little bit after 7, and you normally always come home this late. But right now, your back was killing you.

Making your way out of the car and into the pristine mansion, you were greeted with one of Elvis’s good hearted chef’s that urged you to eat some dinner. So after stashing your belongings away, you willingly obliged and ate dinner relatively quickly.

Thanking the kind cook, your legs dragged themselves up the stairs towards your shared bedroom with The King. Your Elvis Presley.

He’d always be the one to come home horribly late or in the early hours of the morning, with him doing recordings and interviews and such.

But whenever you were with him, the time spent together was precious.

Sitting down on the bed, too worn out to change clothes, you stared at yourself in the full length mirror that was opposite of the bed.

Your eyes stared at your chest. With the work clothes clinging to you, they looked engorged. As you notice this, your head finds its way into your hands.

The problem was, you were inadvertently lactating. It’s somewhat an anomaly, but still plausible for women who weren’t pregnant. And you were 100% sure, you were not. You grew up with this, your doctor advising you that it was no side effect to any medication or clothing you’d wear. It wouldn’t always happen though, but you noticed it would happen on long days of work.

So, the best advice she had, was to not let your breasts become too enlarged by milking them. And in all honesty, it did the trick. It would never hurt either, it just became a chore you had to deal with. Elvis didn’t know this though.

You hadn’t told him because you thought he’d get weirded out. So before you’d ever see him, you’d make sure to “milk” yourself to look presentable. Which is why you were always lucky to be home before him.

But, not this time.

You heard one of Elvis’s expensive cars pull up into the driveway with some others, him getting out and talking to them saying goodnight while they pulled off. He eventually made his way up the front of Graceland’s stairs.

Fuck.

You shuffled over to the window to see if your ears were deceiving you, but, they weren’t. You had zero time whatsoever to deal with your chest and you were scared.

Backing away from the window, your ears perked when you heard Elvis’s booming voice come up the stairs as he greeted the others working in the house. You could see his shadow through the bottom of the door, and he politely knocked, asking if he could come in.

Shoot, he knows you’re home.

Already being caught, and not wanting to upset the man you loved, you called to him saying he could come in. You rushed over to the dresser, grabbed a small towel, and quickly sat back on the bed. You slowly started to wiped off the makeup you wore using the same mirror you stared hopelessly at beforehand, making it seem like you’ve been there for a while.

Opening the door, Elvis waltzes into the room, guitar case in hand, wearing one of those beautiful bright colored suits of his.

“Evening sweetie,” he croons while going to put his guitar case to the side. From your view through the mirror, his face was slightly sweaty, eyes drooping, and his walk lazy. He looked so tired, and you felt so bad. You wanted to walk right up to him and give him as much comfort as you could, but even you were dealing with your own problems at the moment.

“Hey Elvis, welcome home love, ” your voice came out soft, so quiet. Exhaustion laced in your words. He noticed this and turned to look at your sitting figure. Even though he looked worn out, he still always managed to have some type of energy in him.

“Sweetie what’s got you all bothered, hmm?” he questioned, slowly making his way over to you.

You started to internally panic, trying to cover your chest in any way you could. Should’ve grabbed a blanket or coat or something, you thought. That would’ve made this much easier.

“What’s wrong sweetie?” he reaches you and sits down, the bed shifting due to his added weight on the edge.

You really, really hoped, he didn’t notice, but you still reply to him.

“N-nothing Elvis, just a, a tired day is all,” your voice cracked, making him slightly more worried. “You should worry about yourself right now love.”

“If they’re making you overwork again Lord have mercy-“ he started to shake his fist in the air, an attempt of showing his disdain for your workplace.

“Elvis it’s fine, I promise,” you drop your hand with the rag to the side, your other hand gently grabbing his fisted hand. This caused you to slightly turn your body towards him, and that’s when he discreetly got a good look at your chest. There’s no way he couldn’t not see.

Shit, you fucked up.

“There’s gotta be something on your mind,” he moves to sit behind you, crotch pressing against your bottom as he stares into the mirror looking at you.

“What do you mean, Mr. Presley?” you feigned innocence, crossing your arms over your chest. He had his hands behind him, leaning back slightly onto the bed as his groin pressed into you further.

“You just sound so tired sweetie,” he keeps his crotch pressed against you as he leans back up, your back coming into contact with his chest. Wrapping his arms around your waist, accentuating your breasts further. This man knows what he’s doing, you almost begin to sweat.

“Yeah Elvis, maybe it’s time for some rest,” you try and curve him off, but as you go to stand up, he softly pulls you back down.

“But sweetie, I never get to come home this early. I feel like I’ve been neglecting your needs,” he looks at you through the mirror again, honesty ringing clear in his voice. He clings to you tighter, his chin nestled in the crook of your neck so that he can still stare at you. His legs close in around the outside of your thighs.

Basically, you were trapped.

“Elvis, love, you’re too busy so it’s fine. I understand, it’s your job,” you grasp for one of his hands, slowly rubbing your thumb back and forth over his knuckles. His eyes follow your finger’s movements. He squeezes you even more.

“But my job’s also to take care of you~” he mutters into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek and taking your hand in his own. Butterflies bloomed in your stomach, Elvis always making you feel like a little schoolgirl. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, the defensive barrier that you put around yourself faltering.

“And that also means I have to take care of these,” one of his hands moved to grab and squeeze one of your breasts. You whine out, back arching forward as it felt sore, yet so good.

“Elvissss,” you mewl, trying to push him away but your attempts failed. His hand never left, and to make it worse his other hand had grabbed your other lonely breast. Watching your reactions through the mirror, he decided to give your chest one firm squeeze, which shot your eyes open.

“You think I wouldn’t notice these? What’d you do hmm??” he breathed in between kisses on your neck, squishing your mounds even more.

You struggle within his grasp, the feeling pleasurable, yet you’ll know what’ll happen if he squeezes too hard.

“I, I-“ you couldn’t even talk straight, his touch felt intoxicating. You could feel everything, even through the thickness of your clothes. Your nipples started to feel hot.

“Tell me, you got anything done to yourself? Wanted to please me?” he asked, genuinely curious to hear your answer. His hands moved to work on getting your clothes off, his fingers working on the buttons of your coat.

“Wh-what, what do you mean?” you still tried to wave it off, but it just didn’t work. His hands slinked towards the bottom of your shirt, looking in the mirror your chest was pressed against the fabric. His fingers slowly hooked under the material and wiggled it off your figure.

Your chest was on full view for his hungry eyes. Your breasts pressed into the figure of your bra, swollen almost. Elvis’s pupils dilated, eyes widening at the sight. His hands trailed their way over and up your waist to cup both of your breasts.

“Elllviss, careful, this is my new bra,” you complain.

“And what do you mean by that now?” he stopped his kisses, and looked back into the mirror, giving your breasts an experimental hard squeeze.

Your hands gripped hard onto his thighs as, just as you’d expected it, you began to leak. One of your hands came up to cover your mouth, Elvis missing the warm touch of your palm. Milk had slowly started to seep into the fabric of the bra, a wet spot being evident. Elvis’s eyes light up for a second, before those crushing blue orbs were covered in lust.

One of his hands gently gripped the hand that covered your mouth.

“I’ll be asking you questions later lovely, but right now, let’s take care of you~”

His other hand left your chest, but you still couldn’t move since his thighs were still enclosed around you. You were wearing a skirt, so he pulled the edges up to reveal your panties. He slid the crotch to the side. The hand that still held yours pulled your hand down.

“Touch yourself sweetie, and watch the mirror while you do it,” he commanded. His hand still firmly gripped yours, not leaving just yet, urging you to do the deed.

His palm was now on the back of your hand, his fingers draping over your own. Middle and ring fingers pressing together, he pushes yours and his in at the same time past your dripping folds, causing you to arch your back away from his chest.

Four fingers.

All at once.

Your pussy ached, the feeling of something inside of you relieving. Your jaw went slack as soft moans started to escape from you, body slumping into Elvis’s.

“That’s right now there ya go, relax sweetie, fuuuck,” he whispered lovingly into your ear, his hips pressing into your ass.

His fingers were already more slender, yet thicker than your own, but now as he guided your own fingers inside of you, you thought it was an added bonus. His other hand retreated back to one of your breasts, molding against it to see if anything else would happen.

Opening your eyes, looking into the mirror, it was a sight. Elvis’s hand with yours inside of you, him leaning over and into your neck to press open mouthed kisses on the tender skin, his hand squeezing your breast nonstop.

All the attention was on you.

He wasn’t satisfied yet though, feeling his dick press against you through the suit’s pants, he was a bit far from done.

“Come this way, look at me sweetie,” he turns you so you’re looking at him. His fingers left yours, feeling empty. You decide to shimmy off your skirt, as Elvis wanted to take off your bra.

Before you could protest, he’s as fast as can be with the bras clasp on your back, the material falling onto the bed. Your tits were protruding out at him, milk slightly leaking. He begins to smirk, as he pulls you from the edge, and presses your back against the bed.

“Let’s see what you taste like here hmmm?” his head dips down, mouth latching into one of your nipples, sucking fiercely on it. You threw your head back, one hand clutching the sheets as the other continued circular motions on your clit.

His mouth ravished you, even slurping up the bits of milk the seeped out from you. Jesus Christ was this really happening? He moved between your breasts, leaving trails of saliva in between.

“It’s not fair,” you whined. He peeks his head up, wondering what you meant. You reached to lightly tug on his suit’s sleeve.

“Hmmm, alright then. But I get to take it off,” he muses, watching your reaction. There was hunger in your eyes, but could wait. You’d wait all night if it meant seeing his gorgeous figure.

He leans back onto his calves, his thighs slightly spreading as he did so. His calloused hands working on the small buttons that brought his jacket together. He kept his gaze on you, smirking, but your eyes were focused on his working hands. As well as the prominent bulge that shown through his pants. Slinking his jacket off, throwing it somewhere, he splays his hands over his chest.

“Just imagine,” his voice came out sultry, smooth like silk, his hands grip onto his pecs through the lace shirt he was wearing, the tent in his pants growing from his self-stimulation. “What my hands would look like all over that pretty little body of yours.”

You were anxious for his touch, but you were his good girl. His patient girl. You continued to finger yourself, but did zero grumbling.

His lace shirt was unbuttoned as it fell off of him. Chest exposed, his hands still stayed moving. Slowly making their way to the top of his pants, making sure you wait even longer.

The whole time you were watching him, but at this point you were so touch starved that you threw your head back in anguish.

“Did I say to stop looking sweetie?” Elvis’s hand grabs your chin and raises it up to meet his eyes, his stare piercing through you.

Shaking your head no, he lets go of you and goes back to his pants. Finally unbuttoning and peeling the fabric off, he was only in his boxers.

“Better?” he motions to himself, smirking as he did so. As you nod your head yes, he crawls back over to you.

“Take um off for me?”

Uhm, fuck yes.

Your fingers stopped their ministrations on yourself and rushed to the waistband. But not wanting to seem too desperate, you pulled them off slow, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

He started panting, watching your fingers just glide over his cock, not paying it any attention.

After taking it fully off of him, your hands reached for his face. He leans over your figure, bracing himself on his hands. He takes the fingers that were inside of you and sucks them, wiggling his tongue around to lick up your juices.

You start to giggle as it tickles, and he stops.

“C’mere,” he dips his head to your lips, making you taste yourself.

His hips move towards your core, his dick pressing into your thighs. Hands finding their way back to your chest, he goes back to groping and squeezing at them.

Your body felt hot. Unbearably so. You couldn’t stop moving and writhing underneath his body. He then unlatched from your lips to move to your breasts once again, but before he did, he lined his cock near your pussy.

He gazes at you, lust swirling around in his stare. Blinking, his head slightly tilts as he gives an earnest smile.

“My good girl~”

And at the same time, he slides into you and begins locking his lips on your nipples. His hips jutted back and forth, rocking your body against the sheets.

You lean your head back, it slightly falling off the side of the bed. Opening your eyes, you see the mirror.

Dear Lord.

From this angle, even with it being upside down in your vision, you could see Elvis tending to you. Caressing your chest, sucking and nipping on your nipples, tasting the milk that seeped from them. His hips moving up and down in the air, not showing any sign of stopping just yet.

He moaned against your tits, continuing to suck and squeeze some of the milk from you. At some point, his hands moved away to pull your body back onto the bed, pinning both of your wrists to the sheets, his mouth the only thing moving on you.

“That’s right sweetie,” he gasped between moans, seeing how you shut your eyes in bliss. “Tell me how good I fuck you, yeah?”

“So- aH! So, good mmmm,” every thrust he made into you stuttered your speech. He hit that sweet, deep spot inside of you every. single. time.

“Taste so good, making me act up,” he murmured against you, feasting on your breasts. “All hot and bothered~” You thought he’d be appalled, but, seeing him continue to love on you, he was the same Elvis you knew.

“Please, I-, mmm,” you were close already, feeling a little pathetic that you were unraveling at the seams.

“It’s alright sweet,” he bucks his hips into you more fervently, making sure you get your high. “Let yourself go~”

Your hands balled into fists, legs trembling, eyes screwed shut, gasps and moans erupting from you, your chest heaved against his hungry lips.

Your insides twisted, the coil that formed continuously growing, reaching the high you desperately chased after. Your cunt ached from how hard he was pushing into you, your tits felt so hot from all the attention they were getting from him.

“Elvissss!” you whined out, reaching your apex in mere seconds. Juices leaked from your pussy, coating his pelvis that still continued to move. Your legs fell limp against the bed, head falling back onto the sheets as he submerged his dick as far as he could into you, reaching his climax a while after.

His head lay resting on your chest, while you continued to stare at the ceiling trying to process what the fuck just happened.

“Nng, sorry sweetie, lemme get off ya,” he grunted out, voice tired, his arms moving to push himself away.

“..no,” your voice came out soft, hoarse. A hand gently moved to lightly grab at his bicep to stop him from leaving.

He looks back down at you, head tilted to the side as he gave you a lopsided grin. Milk dripped from his lips, but he didn’t care. His face falters as he notices something.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” you ask, frightened of what his answer could be.

He shifts his body to move his face closer to you, and so that he could bring both of his hands to your face.

“Sweetie you’re crying,” he says in disbelief, slightly chuckling as he wipes the tears away with his fingers. “What’re ya crying for?”

It hadn’t dawned upon you that your eyes had started to water, so you started to giggle as a way of trying to wave it off. He continued to wipe any more tears that had escaped.

“I was just, scared,” you smile up at him.

“Hey, don’t you be crying over no spilled milk now, y’hear?” he joked, fingers moving to squish your cheeks. “Ain’t nothin to be afraid of when I’m here.”

This boy was too charming and funny, dear Lord how did you bag him?

“I trust you,” letting your doubts be carried away, your arms wrap around his neck to bring him into a kiss, both of your lips moving in tandem.

He pulls away as he needed to breathe in some air, but not without inserting a quip.

“Taste good, don’t it?”

You start to laugh as his smirk widens, your hands gently swatting at him. “If I’m ever hungry again, I’ll just find my way over to you yeah?”

He cuddles up against your figure and presses kisses all over your face.

Yeah, you’d let him get another taste. Maybe you’d be able to taste him as well.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Strays AU

Who are Lizard and Doll? What the hell is the Strays AU? Finally there is an easy way to answer these questions without going through 100 memes to figure it out.

Who is Lizard:

Lizard is the reader from Was It Worth It?

She is 14 pre-timeskip

After Crocodile is defeated, Robin brings Lizard with her when she joins the Straw Hats

Usopp, Chopper, and Zoro are all highly suspicious of her, the rest of the crew is more willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

She gets a bounty poster immediately after Alabasta because she is VERY wanted by the marines. Due to how dangerous her father was, her starting bounty is 50,000,000 berry.

She feels horribly guilty over what Crocodile did and spends her every waking moment trying to make up for it. Examples include: selling all her jewelry to help buy things for the crew/ship, doing everyone’s chores whether they asked her to or not, never asking for help, etc…

Possesses Armament Haki, it awakens from how stressed she is in Skypeia with Enel attacking the Straw Hats. It’s pretty weak, but is enough to shield Nami from Enel’s Observation Haki.

Everyone fully accepts Lizard post Skypeia, but it takes her a while to realize that because she’s so lost in her own head.

Luffy’s talk of freedom really rubs off on her, and she wants to save others from being in the situation she was in with her father.

The Straw Hats are normal, but Robin is a little yandere for her because she got attached to her over the years. Lizard finally gets to experience what normal familial relationships and friendships are supposed to be like.

As she gets more comfortable and confident, she goes from a sweet, mild mannered teenager to a take-no-shit pirate that will jump anyone she has a problem with.

Now that she’s no longer under her dad’s control and is truly seeing how money and finances work, she becomes extremely frugal as a result. She thinks her dad was insane for wasting as much money as he did.

Despite all of the resentment, she doesn’t actually hate Crocodile. She’s furious with him for starting a war and trying to kill Robin, but a part of her does still care for him. She was a daddy’s girl her whole life, that doesn’t just go away overnight. There is a lot of guilt stemming from this because she feels like she should hate him but just can’t.

She has a crush on Koby because he’s the only marine who doesn’t assume she’s just as bad as her father.

Who is Lady Camorra?

Lizard’s pet bananawani. She first got her when she was a toddler, and Lizard was the first person Lady Camorra saw after hatching. They’ve been inseparable ever since.

She is a juvenile, but is already 20 feet long (about 6 meters)

Lizard likes to tie bows around her head crest and color coordinates them with her own outfits

She’s a chonky girl from how well fed she is

Only takes commands from Lizard but is friendly enough towards the rest of the Straw Hats (except Sanji because he beat up her entire extended family back in Rainbase and she is NOT over it) 

Who is Doll?

Doll is the reader from Better Left Unsaid. She is gender neutral in the fic, but got labeled as a girl as the Strays AU developed because I forgot that the reader was GN in that fic. Oops.

She is 13 pre-timeskip

While she is reasonably confident around Shanks and his crew, she is a nervous wreck around literally anyone else due to how severely under socialized she is. She’s terrible at making eye contact and shakes like a leaf around new people.

Lizard catches wind of her existence and immediately decides she needs to be rescued (she does). 

Doll bounces between reveling in her newfound freedom and having panic attacks because she’s afraid Shanks is going to find her and murder all of her new friends.

Now that she’s gotten a taste of freedom, going back to Shanks is her worst nightmare. If she so much as thinks she saw him she is screaming and crying because she knows he isn’t going to change. She dislikes Shanks more than Lizard dislikes Crocodile.

She is an expert at lockpicking, being able to break into any treasure chest helps endear her to Nami.

While Nami is unhappy about having an emperor hunting them down, her and the rest of the crew are quick to take Doll under their wing.

Uta is her older sister, but she doesn’t remember her at all and only has photos to go off of.

What is the Strays AU?

This is an AU where Lizard, Doll and Lucky (from Lucky Break) are all a part of the Straw Hats at the same time.

Lucky is a big sister to both Lizard and Doll.

Rumors start to speculate that Lucky and Lizard are actually siblings, and they both go with it because it’s funny.

Lizard gets very protective of both Luck and Doll and sicks Lady Camorra on anyone who bothers them.

I'll add more to this as it develops

[hazelnut-u-out]

Rick losing his original family makes me even sadder when I think about the fact that Morty and Summer are basically his kids. He lives with them and takes a much more active role in their lives than most grandparents. He's also pretty much raising Morty (he's doing a terrible job lmao, but he is.) He lost all his children. He lost Jerry, too.

yeahhhhh, 100%.

he’s morty’s primary caregiver at this point, and it kind of feels like the first time in his life morty has ever actually had a primary care giver.

i mentioned this in one of my other posts, but for the longest time after the s5 finale/s6 premier i assumed that rick would pop into the s1 prime dimension on occasion to see if prime had come back, and ran into little morty then. that entire assumption relies on the the inference that morty was pretty heavily neglected and left to his own devices, even at such a young age.

i mean, who in their right mind would leave their baby completely alone in the front hallway while they’re learning to walk?

we ofc don’t know if that’s how rick really knew a morty baby, but it really says something that that’s what someone would immediately deduce.

morty himself even confronts beth about the neglect in “a rickconvenient mort,” and we have plenty of scenes (like in “raising gazorpazorp”) that are open about the neglectful/horrible parents beth and jerry are. even though jerry is shown to be more affectionate towards the kids, he’s always been too busy orbiting beth to be a decent father. (you could also get into the state of morty’s room compared to the rest of the house, or even summer’s room. it’s full of childlike toys and posters because he’s really just a little boy, but there’s mold and mildewy spots- even though he keeps his room relatively tidy.)

one scene that really stuck out to me is when rick takes morty to school in “juricksic mort.” it seems like rick has been one of the people making sure that morty gets there for a while now, considering how the whole scene goes down. (which, what a great contrast from his character in s1. he’s gone from making excuses to justify ruining morty’s education to making sure he gets there on time.)

“rick! mom’s working and dad’s still asleep! i’m gonna be late.” “… just get the keys.”

no pushback from rick at all, just casually taking morty to school. i also like the detail that rick is up that early in the morning, like he’s part of the smith family weekly morning rush routine. he’s just relaxed after summer’s off to school and beth’s at work, drinking some beer and watching the news.

that really seems like rick’s been taking morty to school everyday, or at least often. it’s also a great example of a moment where rick steps up as the “dad” or “patriarch” of the house to fill in for jerry again.

rick doing household chores and shaking his head at the kids in disappointment in “final desmithation” is something that makes me feel like rick is more of a parental figure to the kids than the actual smith parents, too.

(rick sanchez in his matriarch era lol)

(i also just love this little scene of him drinking wine with beth while she plays “operation” and the kids sit around. it’s such a sweet little detail that makes me think about what a subtle act of affection it is to drink wine with her because that’s her drink of choice. it’s also reminiscent of rick “making up for lost time” with his little girl, because it’s horse operation. some things never change- like your daughter playing with horse toys while you watch and have a little drink- even if you’re an old man and she has kids of her own now.)

another episode that i think really embodies rick being the only one who goes out of his way to care about/look after the kids is “rickmancing the stone.” sure, he has that whole blurb about how summer is completely replaceable, but he never actually tries to replace them with versions of themselves from other realities. he just kind of tries to buy time and hopes that they’ll eventually want to come back.

i love the scene where he says, “we need to get you guys home so you can properly deal with your parents’ divorce!”

it seems so genuine to me. he’s a dick, but he’s a dick that’s worried about his grandkids.

being a nurturing father figure, especially with children, is something that seems to come naturally to rick. it’s like part of his nature that’s just been waiting to peek out, even though he’s a jaded old asshole now. “a different kind of rick,” exactly.