#this was one of the first drawings (if not even the first) i made of them xd | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enthusiasticharry · 2 days

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the one where YN is the governess for Harry's children, and they cannot hide their growing affection for each other.

author's note: part one of governess!yn (who is my lil angel baby). after the love on good omens, i finally got my mojo back and i'm back with another work! pls be kind and definitely let me know what you think (and what you would like to see in part 2!)

word count: 12.4k of mutual pining (but they just don't know it yet), friends to lovers, employer/employee relationships going out of the window and meddling modistes!

WARNINGS: death during childbirth, child abandonment, parent death, death of a spouse (you have been warned)

let me know what you think of daisies here! mwah <3

YEAR ONE

“Noah!” YN called from where she sat on a picnic blanket on the house grounds, “Slow down, wait for your sister!”

“But Miss. YN,” The younger boy groaned, a second away from stomping his feet YN assumed, “She’s so slow.”

“Noah,” YN warned again with a tilt of her head, watching as the little boy stopped and waited for the even smaller girl behind him, “Thank you.”

YN loved her life.

Whilst YN had not had the easiest of upbringings in life, she had truly found her passion and calling in being a governess. The Styles household had not been the first family she had worked for – but they were her favourite. Noah, the six-year-old little boy, was bubbly, mischievous and had a penchant for teasing his younger sister made her life interesting every day. Honorah, who was just three years old was the complete opposite of her brother – quiet, sweet and the happiest little girl YN knew.

The family that YN had been with before were difficult to work with. There was an absent father and a mother who interfered with YN’s work too much for her liking so when Mr Styles asked her to come and work for his family – she did not even have to think about it. Mr Styles loved his children, but from what YN had heard – he had loved his wife too. Mrs. Styles had died during the birth of Honorah, and from what YN had experienced it had shaken the family.

YN had started working for the Styles about three months ago. Before, Mr. Styles had relied on his mother and his household staff to aid with the upbringing of his children. Unfortunately for them, his mother had been unable to continue helping in her old age and that was when they sought out help from YN.

“Miss. YN,” Honorah’s voice shook YN out of her daydream, “I picked this for you.”

“Thank you, Norah,” YN smiled, accepting the small daisy that the girl was holding out for her, “This is a lovely daisy.”

The girl sheepishly smiled, rocking on her feet slightly as she stood above the older woman. YN smiled, tapping the space on the blanket next to her for her to drop down.

“How about this…” YN smiled, pulling out some paper and pencils that she had packed in a basket and placing them in front of the girl, “I packed these for you, would you like to try and draw the daisy?”

Honorah nodded, accepting the paper and pencils from YN. The older woman watched with a smile on her face as the girl carefully placed the daisy down in front of her, her tongue slightly slipping out from her lips in concentration as she grabbed the pencil and started to sketch. In her peripheral vision, YN could see Noah chasing what looked to be a butterfly around some of the flowers in front of them.

YN loved the summer, and the Styles children did too it seemed. They had a perfectly good classroom spare in the house to use but when the weather was this lovely, YN saw no need to keep the children holed up within the four walls. They had completed spelling tests each earlier in the morning, and seeing as though it was a Friday, YN saw no need to overwork the children.

“Miss YN,” Noah screamed, running over to her with his hands clutched tightly in front of him, “I caught it!”

“You caught it?” YN’s eyes widened, trying to match the younger boy’s excitement, “What did you catch, Noah?”

“The butterfly I was chasing!” The younger boy’s words were followed by a giggle and a small shake of his shoulders, “It is tickling me.”

“That is probably because it is scared, Noah,” YN explained, placing the younger boy’s hands in hers, “Remember how small the butterfly is? Small enough to fit in your hand. Even though you are a little boy, you are big and scary to the butterfly.”

“Oh,” Noah’s face dropped, his shoulders dropping slightly, “I do not want to scare it.”

YN nodded, “Should we let it go?”

Noah nodded, accepting YN’s help when she cupped his hands and opened them and there was the butterfly. It immediately flew away from them, and Noah saw that as the opportunity to go chasing after it again, Honorah could not resist abandoning her drawing and running after her brother.

YN leant back on her hands lightly and watched as the scene unfolded in front of her. YN had come to terms with the fact that she would not have children of her own, and these two little ones filled that void. YN had been trained with people that she knew would not be the kindest of governesses and at most hated children and she swore she would never be like that. She had been dealt this life, but she was not going to let it change her.

“The last time he caught a bug it took us three hours to convince him to set it free,” YN jumped at the sound of Mr. Styles’ voice from the side of her, the man standing a few feet away from her with his hands in his pockets.

YN smiled, turning her attention back to the children, “I must admit I am surprised he gave it up so easily.”

Mr. Styles chuckled, his hand pointing to the blanket next to her, “May I join you?”

YN nodded, “Of course.”

She tried not to stare as he sat down. There was a decent amount of space between them, and whilst YN’s legs were curved to the side of her – Harry’s extended in front of him. YN would be lying if she said her employer was not attractive. Even with his mood which often reflected the tragedies he had experienced in his life – his features still stood out to YN. Mr. Styles was not shy about eye contact, and every time YN was under his gaze her heart fluttered – just as she was now.

YN looked out at the children who were now chasing each other around a tree, “They completed their spelling lessons an hour or so ago, and instead of keeping them indoors I thought this was a better way for them to spend their time.”

“I am in no position to criticise your methods, Miss YLN,” Mr. Styles nodded, a chuckle escaping his lips as he watched his son taunt his daughter from behind the tree, “If anything, this will ensure that bedtime goes smoothly.”

YN chuckled, watching as the children spotted their father and came bounding over to him. Noah immediately latched onto his father’s side, with Honorah wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Papa, did you see?” Noah’s beaming face almost shouted at his father, “I caught a butterfly! But I let it go because it was scared.”

“I did see, Noah,” Mr. Styles nodded, pulling down his son’s shirt that had rolled up at the back, “It was very nice of you to let it go.”

Noah nodded, obviously trying to suppress the smile on his face due to how his father was happy with him. Honorah, obviously feeling slightly left out of her father’s attention, picked up her half-finished daisy and passed it to him.

Even though YN knew the difficulties of making sure that each of the children had equal attention, Mr Styles did it so effortlessly. After YN’s first experience with a family, one in which she was sure that the father had no idea as to what his children’s names were – it was a lovely sight. He managed to ensure that each one of his children knew that they were loved, and he did everything he could to ensure that they did not feel the hole that the loss of their mother created.

“How about we go inside for supper?” Harry offered to the children, both of whom nodded their heads and scrambled to stand up.

YN took that as the opportunity to start packing up the things she had brought out with them and retire for the evening. Just as YN was about to fold up the blanket, Mr. Styles had already beaten her to it. He smiled at her as he offered the folded blanket to her, which she accepted with a nod of her head and placed it within the basket.

Just as she was about to turn and walk towards the house, Mr. Styles cleared his throat.

“Would you like to join us for supper?”

“Oh,” That stopped YN in her tracks immediately, “I… I should not…I would not want to intrude.”

“You would not be intruding,” Mr. Styles shook his head, “I am offering. There is no need for you to eat alone when you can dine with us.”

YN contemplated his words for a second or so before nodding with a small smile on her face, “Thank you.”

Walking side by side, the two adults followed the children as they ran ahead – a supper waiting inside for them.

For the last three weeks, YN had not eaten alone.

To anyone else, that may have not seemed a fate that would be something to be concerned about – but it was strange. It had started with the supper after the day in the garden with the children and had then been followed by an invitation to breakfast the next day.

YN supposed that it had been for ease, and even more so to allow for her teachings of the children to continue into the rest of the day rather than just to the previous allotted times. The only issue that YN had found with the new arrangement was how YN was being affected by the newly increased amount of time she was spending with Mr. Styles.

Throughout the day YN did not see much of him (just like before) as he tended to retreat to his study to take care of the estate and any other issues that may be presented before him. During mealtimes, however, Mr. Styles now took his place to the left of her at the dining table.

Their conversations never strayed far from the weather, food or most likely the children. Whilst it was strange for YN to join them for these meals, there was a slight comfort that was now found between the two of them. YN never saw Harry converse with friends or leave the house late at night to engage with mistresses which had been a favourite pastime of the previous husband she worked for. A part of YN just assumed that maybe he was lonely, and a conversation with someone that was above the age of six was something that he wished for.

There was also a side of YN that missed the quiet that eating alone gave her. It allowed her time to pause and think. Whilst she loved her job, and she loved the children more than anything YN often wondered what her life would have been like if things were different.

Similarly to the Styles children, YN’s mother had died in childbirth. She had known nothing of her but that information. Her father, a gentleman from the city had remarried almost immediately and his new wife had wanted nothing to do with YN – so she had been abandoned at an orphanage. It was only due to her father’s lineage (even though she had not the faintest idea of who he was) that she had not been made to work, and instead had been trained to be a governess.

YN often wondered what would have happened if that was not the case, if she had not been abandoned in the way she had. She could have been married and had children of her own by now. At the age she was (eight and twenty) the only way in which she could even register the thought of getting married was to a businessman in the village, and yet she did not venture into the village long enough for that to even be a possibility. These thoughts would swirl around YN’s head, just as they were doing now, but then she would be reminded of how fulfilled she was in this role and none of these thoughts would matter.

Whilst YN would often brush these thoughts out of her head, there was a slight comfort in imaging what her life could have been.

YN sat on the steps outside of the residence, a cup filled with tea next to her and the light summer’s breeze a comfort to her. It was deep into the night, and there had not been movement in the house for a few hours and YN was at peace. Dressed in just her nightgown and shawl, the only comfort to her being the silence and the night sky – YN was happy. This time, whilst it had become few and far between recently was the time that she cherished.

“It is a lovely night.”

YN jumped out of her skin at the sound of Mr. Styles’ voice behind her, just as she had done in the garden a few weeks ago. With a hand pressed firmly on her chest in hopes of calming her heart rate down, she turned to look at the man.

“Mr. Styles,” YN gasped, her hand still clutching her chest, “I am afraid you quite terrified me.”

“I apologise,” He offers her a smile, “I heard footsteps earlier and I thought it was the children, but then I saw you sitting out here, and I am now assuming it was you.”

“I apologise,” YN was quick to insert, unable to hide her embarrassment at the situation, “I had no intention of disturbing you.”

“I am most certain you did not,” He pointed to the space on the step next to her, as though asking her permission to sit down and she nodded, watching as he dropped down next to her, “In fact, you were very quiet, it is just me who is a light sleeper. Since my wife…I became the one who had to listen out for the children.”

YN’s body froze when she heard Harry mention his wife. It had been Mr. Styles’ mother who had initially told her about the death of Mrs. Styles. YN had never heard Harry even mention her. She had not a single idea as to whether he spoke to the children about her. She assumed that whilst he may not speak about her now, he must at some point speak to them. YN knew what it was like to have not met a mother, and she knew the pain that it causes and would certainly not ever wish that upon anyone else – especially not those darling children.

“We had another eventful day in the garden today,” YN explained, “I attempted to teach the children how to play pall mall with the old set I found but we instead ended up with a game of cat and mouse – and I am therefore not surprised that they are worn out.”

Harry chuckled, “My family and I used to play pall mall when I was a boy. I had hoped that I would get around to teaching them, but I never had.”

YN’s eyes immediately widened, “I apologise if I overstepped Mr. Styles – I was merely attempting to make use of the day.”

“No, no do not apologise,” Mr. Styles shook his head, “I heard their joyful glees earlier in the day – I would allow for anything to continue to hear those sounds.”

YN wrapped her arms around her knees, bringing them closer to her chest, “I know that I have given you this information before, but you do have two beautiful children, Mr. Styles.”

Mr Styles’ face beamed a smile, as though he was proud to be hearing such information. If YN had heard this information about her children she would not have been prouder to be a parent. Mr. Styles’ face reflected that.

“I wish I could take all of the credit but indeed I cannot,” Mr. Styles sighed, a hand running over his face, “Norah, is, well… she is exactly like her namesake. My wife was sweet, gentle, and kind. She was inquisitive, just as Noah is. Unfortunately for him, he may have inherited my unfortunate mischievous side which I had as a child.”

YN chuckled slightly before offering him a small smile, “It must be lovely to see her in them. To know that she is still here, in them.”

Mr. Styles hesitated. YN’s heart dropped, the fear that she had overstepped coursing through her veins.

“Mr. Styles, I apologise,” YN’s chest started to rise up and down, this time from the nerves rather than being scared, “I completely overstepped. I did not mean to offend you.”

Mr. Styles shook his head, “You did not, and please forget the formalities – call me Harry.”

YN nodded, “I am still sorry if I offended you, Harry.”

“You did not, YN, I can promise you that,” Harry offered her a smile which settled any of the woman that might have still harboured, “In truth, you are correct. Whilst she is no longer with us, I see her face every day. I see the aspects of her that I fell in love with day after day. Whilst it does not fill the hole of what we have lost, it offers a sense of comfort that I am more appreciative of than words could ever explain.”

A comfortable silence loomed over the two of them, the words that had just been spoken dancing around them, invading their thoughts. It was at this point that YN felt her sense of loss wash over her.

“I, uh, well…” YN offered Harry a sad smile, “My mother died giving birth to me too. I do not wish to bore you with the details, but I did not have a father looking out and loving me in the way that you do. Your children will be grateful in the future for that – I promise you.”

Harry nodded, “I am ever so sorry for your loss, YN.”

YN shrugged, “It was a long time ago now, Harry. Whilst I do not advocate the idea that wounds heal with time, I suppose that the effects of such become easier to deal with.”

“I tell them stories of her every night,” Harry offers her a small smile, “I will not allow them to forget her.”

“Then that is all that you can do.”

YEAR TWO

“I do so wish that I could dress you proper, Miss YN,” Miss Francis, the modiste, spoke as she continued to pin the dress on YN’s body.

YN chuckled, “I do not need them, Miss Francis. It would be a waste of an expense.”

The older lady sighed, continuing to pin the length on YN’s new-day dress. It was in a delightful lilac, trimmed with lace that around the cuffs and soon to be the hem.

“But you would look so gorgeous adorned in the latest fashions,” YN sighed but allowed Miss Francis to continue, “I do not know if you have heard, but Mr Jacobs’ son is looking for a wife.”

YN sighed and shook her head, “You know that I do not entertain myself with the idle gossip of the village.”

“Well, I for one believe you should,” Miss Francis stood up, her eyes focusing directly on YN, “You have done your duty as a governess, and I am sure the Styles’ are nothing but grateful for your service but there is a time where one must think for themself.”

YN shook her head, not allowing her words to infiltrate her mind at all, “I would never betray my role. Those children need me… Mr. Styles –”

“Mr Styles can find another governess at the drop of a hat,” Miss Francis sighed, “I am sure that if an advertisement went out today there would be a line from here to London hoping for the role.”

YN scoffed and shook her head, “We both know that is an exaggeration.”

“From here to Manchester, then,” Miss Francis corrected.

YN sighed and stepped off the podium, allowing Miss Francis to help her remove the dress on her body and return to the gown she had arrived in. Today the children had gone with Mr Styles to his mother’s house, something that they did every so often and allowed for YN to have a day just to herself. It was a rarity, and in some parts, YN was thankful to receive these days but sometimes she truly did just miss the children. She would also be lying if she said that she did not miss Harry.

In the last year that she had worked for him, she would say that their relationship grew to what YN would deem as a friendship, to more than just an employer-employee relationship. That in itself was something she cherished alongside the life that he had given her. They still ate meals together with the children, and more often than not in their alone time she would find herself in his company. Even if the room was quiet – they would be together.

To anyone looking in, their situation would seem strange. In all honesty – it was. But no matter how strange the situation, YN would not change it for the world.

“I am happy just the way I am, Miss Francis,” YN smiled at the woman, “I do not need to change anything.”

The older lady just scoffed, “Well, if you are ever to change your mind I would be happy to arrange a meeting.”

YN just shook her head, “I promise that shall never be the case.”

It was at this point that YN could tell that the older woman was slightly annoyed with her, “I shall send your gown to the Styles residence when it is ready.”

“Thank you, Miss Francis,” YN smiled, “Do not be too angry with me.”

“I am not,” Miss Francis shook her head, “I just wish that one day you realise your full potential, my dear.”

YN left the modiste with her brain spinning with the words that Miss Francis had said. It was not that she was taking account of anything that Miss Francis said about marriage because she knew that was not on the cards for YN. She had made her peace with that a long time ago. It was more so that YN was struggling to decipher what the older woman meant by saying that she had not met her full potential.

All of her life, YN knew that her only job in life was going to be a governess. The orphanage had made that very clear to her, and fortunately for YN – it was also something that she enjoyed. That was her potential. That was the start of it, and that was the end of it. There was nothing else that anyone could say to change that.

It began the age-old question discussion again. It started YN’s spiral as to when she would think about what life could have been like if certain things were different. Then, no matter how much she would imagine what her life could have been like – she always circles back to right now and how this was where she wanted to be.

Sighing, YN stepped out from the side of the building and onto the road in hopes of crossing it and continuing her journey home. Just as she was about to step out, a hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her back by the side of the building. It was just as she had been pulled back that a carriage went riding past her, too fast for the speed of a normal carriage.

It was only then that YN realised that whoever the person was who had pulled her out of the way of the carriage had pretty much just saved her life.

“Oh,” YN sighed, her hand lifting to rest again on her chest – her heart rate rising once more.

“Are you okay, miss?” The saviour asked, his hand reaching out to touch her arm.

For the first time, YN’s eyes turn to meet the man and they widen. He was tall, and the only word that YN would have to describe him would be rugged. But in between all of that ruggedness, he was handsome, and YN was not ashamed to admit that.

“I am fine,” YN offered him a small smile, “I… Thank you for that. I fear I was not paying much attention to my surroundings.”

“I gathered that,” YN’s eyebrows furrowed at him, “From the way you ignored my calls for you to stop.”

“I, uh, I did not hear you,” YN chuckles, “I was just…”

“Not paying much attention,” He chuckles.

It was then that YN realised that her hands were shaking. In the adrenaline of it all, she supposed that her near-death experience was finally catching up with her body.

“I… I, uh, thank you for… saving me,” YN nodded, pointing across the road, “But I must be getting home.”

“Allow me to fetch a carriage for you, miss?” YN shook her head at the gentleman’s offer.

“No, I cannot, but thank you,” YN gave him a small smile, “I would very much prefer to walk.”

“Then allow me to escort you,” The man continued to press, obviously not wanting to take her no for an answer, “Just to ensure you are out of the path of any other carriages.”

YN chuckled but again shook her head, “Sir, even if I was to say yes I know better than to accept offers from strangers.”

The man offered her a smile, “Well, that is an issue that is immediately fixable – Mr Jacobs, it is lovely to make your acquaintance Miss…”

“…YLN,” YN chuckles, realising by the second that this man was insanely stubborn, “But I assure you, Mr Jacobs, I am perfectly capable of walking myself home.”

“Well, Miss YLN,” Mr Jacobs presses, “How about instead of me walking you home it turns out that the two of us are just walking in the same direction.”

YN tilts her head at the man, “I fear that may be worse.”

“Yes,” The man laughs, unable to stop himself, “I knew that the minute I said so.”

There must have been something that made it so that once Miss Francis had mentioned this man to her she would meet him. YN would not say that she believed in fate, but this was certainly an odd coincidence.

“Whilst I am not saying yes to your offer,” YN started, offering the man a small smile, “I suppose I cannot stop you from joining me if you do so wish, Mr Jacobs.”

“Very well,” He opened his arm out in the direction she had been walking in, “After you, miss.”

YN makes it obvious that she double-checks whether or not any carriages are coming down the road before she attempts to cross it. Her heart has calmed down, as well as the shaking in her hands but in all honesty she would rather curl up with a book and relax.

“Seeing as though we are walking in the same direction, would it be improper of me to ask you a question or two?” Mr Jacobs prompted from the side of her.

“I would say that I owe you as much,” YN sighed, offering him a small smile, “Seeing as though I could have been in a very different situation if it was not for you.”

Mr Jacobs laughs, “Yes, I must admit saving one from a carriage is a much better play.”

YN shrugged, “Ask away.”

YN was surprised. The conversation, barring the near-death experience, seemed to flow with ease. More often than not, YN found herself laughing. Whilst she loved the conversations that she had with Harry, and she would say that he was her best friend within this world – it was nice to converse with someone who did not necessarily know her.

Whilst it had been nice (as it always is) to play make-believe for a little while, she knew that the second the turn-off for the Styles estate came into view she would have to return to her reality.

YN stopped just at the turning, and Mr Jacobs had not anticipated this as he continued to walk. She cleared her throat, and that was when he stopped and turned around – his eyebrows furrowing at her stopped movements.

“This is me,” She pointed down the road.

He pointed down the road, “The Styles estate?”

“Yes,” YN nodded, lifting her hand to brush her hair out of her face, “I… I am their governess. I work with the Styles children.”

“Oh,” Mr Jacobs seemed to relax slightly, “An honest profession, I must say.”

YN just smiled, “I do appreciate you walking with me, and also not allowing the carriage to run me over.”

Mr Jacobs shook his head, “Do not mention it – I would do it over again if you needed.”

YN opened her mouth but shut it again almost immediately. YN just decided to offer him a smile instead.

“Well, thank you again,” YN pointed down the path, “I must go but I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

Mr Jacobs nodded, “As I wish you do too,” YN turned and started to walk down the path when his voice called out again, “Stay out of the way of any carriages!”

YN could not help the chuckle that left her lips at his words.

The second that YN had returned to the house she had dropped down in the drawing room and stayed there. The house was still silent, letting YN know that neither the children nor Mr Styles were back at the house, and surprisingly to her YN was thankful for that.

Near-death experience aside, YN had enjoyed herself. It was always a pleasure to see Miss Francis (even though she enjoyed meddling more than anything) but the real shock of the day had been her walk and subsequent conversation with Mr Jacobs.

The issue that YN found herself in was that the bridge between her thoughts and her reality had started to merge. From one conversation YN could not presume that she was going to marry the man and she was certainly in no place to do that – but she could not say that the prospect was not there.

YN could have been sat there for an hour, or maybe even five by the time that she was knocked out of her daydreaming. She had not even heard Harry walk into the room and it was only when he moved to stand in front of her was when she realised that he had returned.

“I have been looking for you everywhere,” He sighed, dropping down on the settee just next to her, “Did you not hear me calling your name?”

“I seem to be doing that a lot lately,” YN sighed, offering him a small smile but saying no more.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, confused by the state that she was now in which was very different from the one that he had left her in this morning.

“That was not ominous at all,” Harry stated as though it was the most obvious thing, but YN seemed to be paying no attention, “Are you going to give me an explanation at all?”

“I was nearly hit by a carriage today.”

“What?” Harry’s eyes widened, his body immediately leaning towards her, “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“No, no I’m fine,” YN shook her head, leaning back on the seat she was on, “I am just…”

YN’s sentence trailed off and then she did not say a single thing. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed again, and he decided then that he did not believe her, “Are you sure you were not injured? You did not bang your head or anything?”

“Harry, I did not hit my head!” The exclaimed rather loud, earning a laugh from Harry from across the room, “I am perfectly okay.”

The silence washed over them again. YN’s eyes continued looking forward, out of the window and to where the trees were slightly swaying in the breeze. She could hear the children squealing throughout the rest of the house, and she was reminded that they were probably happy from spending the day with their grandmother.

“How was your day?” YN asked, still not looking away from the window, “How did the children enjoy it?”

“They loved it, as they always do,” Harry shrugged off their questioning, “But, and promise me you will not be angry with me –”

“Harry, we both know that if you start a sentence with that I am probably going to be angry with you.”

“I know this but still, I have to ask,” Harry sighed, “Are you positive you are okay?”

YN went silent, her hands messing with a loose thread of fabric on her dress. Harry looked at her, still unable to figure out why on earth she was acting so strangely.

“Do you ever think of marriage?”

Harry’s mouth opened once, before shutting again. He then sighed, and then the realisation of what had been said washed over her and her eyes found his.

“Harry, I am so sorry,” YN shook her head, completely unable to understand why on earth she would have said that, “I should not have said that, God, I do not understand why I said it.”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “I must admit I was a little shocked but do not apologise. My mother had a lot to say about marriage earlier today.”

“She did?”

Harry nods with a slight shrug of his shoulders, “She just mentioned how beneficial it would be for Noah and Norah if they had a mother in their lives. And when I say mentioned, I mean brought up every other sentence.”

YN chuckled. She would be lying if she said she did not love Harry’s mother. She was lovely, and just a ray of sunshine. Whilst she had not experienced having a mother in her life, she did have some idea as to what it would have been like to have a meddling mother. She also had the experiences with Miss Francis, and she gathered that it must have been something like that.

“So, you have considered it?” YN asked, her fingers still pulling on the thread of her dress.

“No, I would not say that,” Harry shook his head, “I would not say consider, but rather had the idea in my head for a few seconds before removing it altogether.”

YN laughed, “I honestly do not blame you for such.”

“Have you…” Harry’s eyes found her, “Thought about it?”

“I do, sometimes,” YN shrugs her shoulders, “I would not say very often but sometimes I find myself doing the same as you. I think about it, and then I remove it from my brain.”

YN laughs, but Harry does not join her. Once she realises her laughter drowns out, she finds herself under his gaze. She should not be so surprised that someone she has lived with for almost two years now knows her so well, but it still shocked her. Just as it had done earlier on in the day, YN found herself unable to stop the increasing of her heart rate. It was silly. He had not even said anything to her, and yet she was completely and utterly a mess under his gaze. It should not be like this, and yet it was.

“It is not unnatural to think about marriage, YN,” Harry says, and YN can tell that every single word he was saying was sincere and he believed true, “Whilst as your employer I should be saying to you not to marry because my children and I… they need you, I cannot in good conscience say that. If marriage is what you wish – then nothing should stop you from doing so. As your friend, I would even go as far as to say that any deserving man would be lucky to have you as his wife.”

YN was silent, taking in his words with nothing but shock swirling around her head. To hear him say those words, as well as the look his face held whilst he said them shook YN to her core.

“Harry I…” YN shook her head, attempting to not focus on the tears that were starting to collect in her waterline and more so on her breathing.

Harry cleared his throat, attempting to mask the awkwardness that now loomed over them, “I apologise if I spoke out of turn, YN.”

“No, you did not,” YN shook her head, “And I appreciate everything you have said, Harry, I truly do but… today must have just been a lapse in my judgement. I would be lying if I said that I am not happy here because I truly am.”

YN’s face could not help the smile that crossed her features at the sight of the one across Harry’s lips.

“I truly do not believe that I could have asked for a better life, and you are the one I have to thank for that.”

Harry just nodded, “Whilst as your employer I am more than happy to hear those words, as your friend I am just delighted that I have managed to help you in this way.”

YN smiled, finally feeling as though whatever mood she had found herself in after today had been brushed off. She stood up, her eyes catching Harry’s as she motioned her head towards the door.

“Let us go find your children and get them ready for bed before they terrorise the rest of the staff.”

Harry laughs and stands up, following YN out of the room and towards the sound of children’s laughter down the hall.

YEAR THREE

“Noah, it is not appropriate to throw food at your sister,” YN warned from her seat next to Harry.

The little boy did not seem to care about her warnings and continued to load grapes onto his spoon and launch them at his sister.

“Noah,” Harry was the one to warn the little boy this time, “Pass me the spoon?”

Harry held his hand out for the spoon. Noah continued to hold the spoon, his eyes darting between his father and the grapes set out in front of him. Harry just raised his eyebrow at his son who sighed and placed the spoon in his father’s hand. YN watched as the boy picked up the grape and without his spoon launched it at his sister.

“That is it, Noah,” Harry shook his head, “If you carry on with this behaviour you will be staying here instead of going to your Grandmother’s house tomorrow.”

That was all that the little boy needed to drop the grape that he had picked up and sit up straight in his seat. YN pursed her lips in hopes of suppressing the giggle that was attempting to escape her lips at the child’s antics.

“How about the two of you go to the classroom and wait for Miss. YN?” Harry asked, a smile present on his lips, “I just need to have a quick word.”

YN nodded, wiping her hands on her napkin, and placing it on the table next to her plate. YN watched with a smile as the children started a race upstairs to the classroom. YN knew that they were going to be a handful today as they always were when they were going to see their grandmother. It was as though the excitement of waiting for tomorrow was too much for them.

“Is something the matter?” YN asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“I had a question to ask you,” Harry started, “It is about tomorrow.”

“Oh,” YN smiled, “Do you mean your birthday? Something about your birthday?”

Harry sighed, shaking his head and the girl giggled. YN knew that Harry did not enjoy his birthday and that made it ever so easy to tease him.

“It is unfortunately something about my birthday,” Harry sighed, “Even though I am not supposed to know, I do know that my mother is throwing a ball for my birthday tomorrow night. She has tried to for the past few years, and I asked her to wait, and she has.”

“That should be lovely,” YN smiled, “I have heard from others how enjoyable your mother’s balls are. I hope you have a lovely time, no matter how much you hate it.”

Harry shook his head, knowing that he would be unable to stop the girl’s teasing, “I was wondering whether you wanted to join me? At the ball?”

YN’s eyes widen. That was certainly not what she was expecting him to say. YN thought that she would do what she normally does when Harry and the children go to his mother’s house which was have a day to herself. She honestly would never have thought would be what he was going to say to her, and yet here he was asking her this.

“Harry I…” YN shook her head, “I… even if I did, I do not have anything to wear.”

“That is an easy rectifiable issue,” Harry sighed with a smile on her face, “I will take the children for a few hours this afternoon so that you can go and see Miss Francis.”

“I do not… how will she even manage to…”

Harry shook his head, “Please stop your worrying, there is no need for it. Do not worry about the cost or the timing for I am sure that Miss Francis will be happy to do this for you to attend the ball.”

YN just shook her head, “I shall be so out of place, Harry.”

Harry placed his hand on the table, leaning forward to offer a comforting look, “No you will not. You will be with me, and I am positive some of your acquaintances from the village shall be there. And even if they are not, it is my birthday, and you are my best friend, and I will not go unless you are there.”

YN sighed and shook her head, “You will upset your mother by doing that.”

“You will upset me by not coming,” Harry retorts quickly.

YN sighs, and nods her head, “Will you send word to Miss Francis that I shall be coming to see her later?”

Harry beams a smile at his friend and nods, “I will do so immediately.”

A few hours later YN was standing in front of Miss Francis with an already complete dress on her body. YN was shocked, and confused as to why there was an already complete garment ready for her but then she remembered Miss Francis’ penchant for meddling and the fact that Harry knew that she would not have been able to say no to him.

“When Mr Styles sent word of the ball a few weeks or so ago, I knew that this fabric would be perfect for you,” Miss Francis explained as she pinned the hem of the dress for the girl.

YN’s mouth opened in shock as the older woman’s words registered in YN’s head, “I saw you just a week ago to alter my winter dresses and you made no mention of the ball.”

The older woman’s face broke out in a smile, “Mr Styles wished for it to remain a secret and who am I not to oblige?”

Even though YN was pretending to be annoyed with the woman, she was sort of pleased that she had only been told about the ball the day before. Whilst the children had known they had been going to their grandmother's for the last few weeks and each day they had become more and more excited, YN would not have experienced that. If YN had found out about the ball at any time before today, she knew that she would have convinced herself not to go. Finding out so late and knowing that a dress had already been made for her – there was no way that she could convince herself not to do so.

“This gown is truly beautiful, Miss Francis,” YN smiled, “You truly have outdone yourself.”

“I have said to you all along my dear, if you allowed me to dress you in the latest fashions you could have suitors lining outside the door.”

YN sighed and shook her head. Since YN’s conversation with Harry last year after her near-death experience with a carriage, she had not even thought about marriage. When she had said that she was happy during that conversation – she had truly meant it. She was happy in her current situation, and she would not change it for the world.

But, seeing herself in this dress she would be completely and utterly lying to herself if the thought had not crossed her mind one more time. This could have been her life if things were different – these outfits, and balls could have been her day-to-day life. But, there were balls, and these dresses were now her day-to-day in this life and to her that meant everything.

“I must admit, Miss Francis, I am completely out of my depth with this entire thing.”

Miss Francis just shook her head, “Do not worry, my dear. There is no pressure on you, at all. At most, you will have a few drinks, some sweet, possibly a dance if you are lucky and that is it.”

YN sighed with a chuckle, “Goodness, I have not danced in years.”

Miss Francis placed a comforting hand on YN’s arm, “As long as you do not stand on your partners’ feet, I believe you shall be okay.”

“That is easier said than done, Miss Francis.”

The older woman aided YN out of the gown and into her previous outfit so that she could make the last amendments to her gown.

“If I were you, every time that you find yourself nervous, or without somebody to talk to I would just remind yourself of why you are there – because Mr Styles is your friend, and he wishes you there.”

YN reached out to grab Miss Francis’ hand and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you. If anything, I am lucky that you are my friend.”

Miss Francis held up her finger as if to delay that thought for a second and moved into the back room. She came out with a wooden box in hand, unlocked the clasp and passed it to YN.

“This belonged to my mother. It was a family heirloom of sorts,” Miss Francis explained, “I always thought that I would pass it to my children, but that never came to be. I wish for you to have them, and to wear them tomorrow.”

YN gasped as she opened the box, placing her hand on her chest as she peered at the matching diamond necklace and earrings that were inside. YN had seen the jewellery that many members of society wore, and whilst this was not like that – YN preferred it more. The earrings were modest, with a tiny diamond falling from a gold stud and the necklace matched. It was beautiful, and it was timeless.

“Miss Francis, I do not know what to say,” YN shook her head, “I cannot accept this.”

“You can, and you will,” The older woman nodded, “You are the closest thing that I have to a daughter in this world, and this is your first ball, and you deserve to show yourself off.”

YN chuckled through the tears that were collecting in her waterline, shut the box containing the jewels and wrapped her arms around the older lady. Miss Francis laughed in obvious shock at the girl’s antics.

“I do not know how to thank you,” YN muttered into the woman’s shoulder.

“Do not thank me,” Miss Francis shook her head, “Just promise me that you will have a good time and enjoy yourself.”

“I promise,” YN nodded.

YN had never felt more out of place in her entire life.

She knew that the way that she had grown up was different to those in society, but being surrounded by them in the way she was truly allowed YN to realise how much of that was true.

YN did not even know where to begin.

That was how she ended up standing, hovering by the wall as people mingled and danced around her. She had arrived with Harry earlier in the day but had left the family alone to celebrate with each other. Once she had joined the festivities of the ball, she still had not seen the birthday boy. Of course, he could have been anywhere in this room and YN would have missed him entirely due to the amount of people there.

With a sigh, YN’s eyes fluttered around the room until she spotted Harry and his mother walking into the room. YN would be lying if she said that the smile adorned on his face did not cause a matching one on hers. He truly did look happy. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks were red, and YN wondered whether or not he had some liquid courage before joining the party. YN could not blame him and chuckled to herself at the thought.

“Miss YLN,” YN jumped out of her skin slightly at the sound of a voice next to her, but relaxed when she saw that it was only Mr Jacobs, “Is something amusing you?”

“Oh, no,” YN shook her head with a small shrug, “Just an amusing thought, that is all.”

Mr Jacobs just hummed, “I must admit, it is nice to see you. When I received the invitation for the evening I did wonder whether or not you were going to make an appearance, and I am happy that you did.”

YN just smiled, dropping her head slightly. She had not seen Mr Jacobs (or thought about him at that) since the almost fatal carriage incident day. It amused YN to no end that had not been the case for Mr Jacobs, and he had thought about her. Maybe she left more of an impression on people than she had thought.

Mr Jacobs looked around the room and cleared his throat, “How are you enjoying yourself so far?”

YN chuckled again, “I would be withholding the truth if I did not say I am slightly overwhelmed, but, I must admit there has been a lovely turnout to celebrate Mr Styles’ birthday.”

Mr Jacobs just hummed again, “That itself is not surprising.”

YN’s eyebrows furrowed in the man’s direction, “And why would that be?”

Mr Jacobs lifted the glass he held in his hand up to his lips and shrugged, “I heard that Mrs Styles extended invitations to every eligible lady in the county, as well as a few from London, seeing as though Mr Styles wishes to take a wife.”

YN nearly choked on her spit at his words but attempted to cover it up in hopes of not raising any questions. This was the first that she had heard of this subject. The last time that she and Harry had conversed on this subject he had made it painfully aware that he was not thinking at all of marriage. Of course, that conversation had been almost a year ago and his intentions could have changed since then. The only question that floated around in YN’s brain was – if so, why had he not said anything to her?

“Oh,” YN faked a laugh, “Well that does make sense. If Mr Styles wants to marry again, he should ensure that he makes the correct choice.”

Mr Jacobs’ eyebrows furrow, “You did not know that he was looking for another bride?”

YN lightly shook her head, “I am not shocked, though. I am only his governess, he does not have to discuss such important, personal matters with me.”

“I just thought that since you had been invited to the ball perhaps you were friends,” Mr Jacobs pressed, confusing YN slightly.

“To a degree, yes,” YN nodded, “But not to the degree of discussing these matters, I suppose.”

Mr Jacobs nodded, finished his drink, and placed his glass down on the table behind them. YN had hoped by that point their conversation would be over, and she could go back to watching the room – but that was not to be the case. YN was admittingly shocked when Mr Jacobs extended his hand out before her.

“Miss YLN,” He spoke, a small smile etching across his features, “Would you do me the honour of joining me in the next dance?”

“Oh,” YN shook her head, “Thank you, Mr Jacobs but I will have to politely refuse – I have not danced since I was a child.”

“Well,” Mr Jacobs shrugged, “To me, it seems there is no time like the present to start again.”

YN watched from over his shoulder as other couples began to migrate to the dancefloor. Exhaling a nervous breath, YN nodded and placed her hand into Mr Jacobs’. He led her towards the dancefloor, and they somehow ended up directly in the middle. Her eyes fluttered to the left and the right of her before they settled directly in front. Mr Jacobs offered her a smile, and that was seemingly all it took for her nerves to dissipate almost completely.

The music started, and they danced.

What YN could not see as she moved around the room, her hand tightly placed in Mr Jacobs was the two eyes watching her from across the room. Harry had been speaking to one of the many ladies that his mother had invited without his knowledge (he will remember this for next time) when he saw them. There was not a possible way that he could have missed her. When he had instructed Miss Francis to make her a dress, he knew that the older woman would succeed at making it beautiful but the only word that seemed to stand out in his head was breathtaking.

Harry tried to listen to the conversation he was in, but he could not. The only thing he could pay attention to was how she floated around the dance floor. She was smiling, an indication to him that she was enjoying herself. At one point he even saw her share a laugh with Mr Jacobs, a man that Harry knew of but not very well. A wave of longing washed over him, a longing for that to have been him.

“Mr Styles!” A voice called from the side of him, “Mr Styles?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, turning back to the lady who had grown impatient at the expense of his distraction, which was now finishing thankfully.

“I asked whether or not you enjoyed dancing?”

Harry’s eyes caught YN walking over towards the refreshment table, alone, and he saw this as his opportunity. He excused himself from the lady, who stood there in shock and watched as he walked away. Harry made a beeline for the refreshment table, ignoring any calls of his name the entire way there.

YN had just picked up a glass to take a sip when she felt someone beside her. She turned, saw that it was Harry and smiled – only for that smile to drop when she saw the expression on his face. The once smiley Mr Styles had been replaced with a look of sadness. It concerned YN to no end.

“Harry?” She dropped the drink back down on the table, “Is everything okay?”

He sighed, “I require some air. Would you care to join me?”

YN just nodded, knowing that he was probably wanting to talk to her more than have some air. Saying that, the room was quite stuffy with the amount of bodies occupying it so she would not be shocked. She followed him through the house until they could slip out of the back door. There was a chill in the air, seeing as though it was February, but that was not the important thing right now.

YN stood by the door, hoping to guard herself from the child slightly as she watched Harry pace in front of her. With each step, she grew more concerned for the man.

“You are worrying me now, Harry,” She started, her voice turning to a slight plead, “Would you please tell me what is wrong?”

Harry sighed and stopped his pacing before turning and walking so he was standing just a few feet from the girl.

“If you wish to marry Mr Jacobs then you should do so.”

YN feels as though all of the air has been sucked out of her body. Her heart begins to beat uncontrollably – the only sound she can hear is her heartbeat throughout her body. Out of everything that she thought he was going to say, that had certainly not been it. She could not even imagine why it had made him act in this way.

“Harry, I…” YN shook her head, unable to hold back her laugh, “That is… I had not even… I only danced with the man Harry.”

Harry shook his head, “I need you to know that if you wish to marry him, then you should.”

YN laughed again, “Harry you are being preposterous! You cannot just go around saying things such as that! But, seeing as though you have said such things, I would like to reiterate all of the information which you already know – I am happy just as I am, with you and with the children.”

Harry sighs, “You do not have to lie to me, YN. I can take the truth.”

“By this display of emotions Harry I find that very hard to believe,” She shakes her head once more, “And even so, I am not lying to you. I merely offered a dance, and I accepted and whilst I do not have the most experience with balls – I have gathered that this is something that usually happens at them!”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at YN once more, and that is when she noticed that his chest was heaving just as much as hers was. The more that they were standing staring at each other, the more confused YN became. That all came to a head when Harry turned and walked away from her, walking into the house without a single second look at her.

YN watched him as he walked away, and she was overwhelmed with the want to cry. She took a deep breath, lifting her hand to rest a hand on her chest in an attempt to calm her breathing. YN took a few steps away from the house so that she could rest against the wall surrounding the steps, the chill in the air the last of the worries.

YN sighed, lifting her hand to her forehead in hopes that would help regain even an ounce of or so of calm again. It was no use though as all she could think about was Harry, and what was the reason behind his sudden outburst of emotion.

“Oh, Miss YLN,” YN lifted her head at the sound of her name, “Are you quite alright?”

There was a part of YN that wanted to groan slightly at the fact that Mr Jacobs had somehow found her even admits the festivities. Instead of groaning, however, YN, found herself offering him a smile.

“I am fine,” She nodded, “Just needed a breath of fresh air.”

Mr Jacobs nodded, approaching where she was sitting on the wall. She did feel bad for the man, seeing as though he was the cause of so much turmoil and yet he had no idea of it. At the end of the day, Mr Jacobs had technically done nothing wrong, and she could not blame the man for something that was between herself and Harry.

He dropped down on the wall with an adequate space next to her and ran his hands over his trousers, “I did wish to ask you something after our dance, before I realised you had disappeared.”

YN just nodded, “Of course, Mr Jacobs.”

“I do not wish for you to read too far into this, Miss YLN, but I do enjoy your company,” Mr Jacobs started, “And, even though I had wanted to do this the last time I saw you I knew it would be inappropriate, but now I do not think the same.”

“Mr Jacobs, you do not have to justify yourself to me,” YN offered him a small smile, “Please, ask whatever it is you would like.”

Mr Jacobs nodded, “Would you care to join me for a promenade tomorrow?”

For the second time in a short period, YN found herself short of breath. She could not believe how these declarations were coming one after the other.

YN knew that if she lingered on the thought too much she would lose herself or talk herself out of it. She supposed, in deciding for herself for once she nodded her head at Mr Jacobs.

“I would very much like that.”

YEAR FOUR

“Do you think Father is scared of bees, Miss YN?” Noah asked, holding YN’s hand as they walked back towards the house.

YN shrugged her shoulders slightly, “I do not know, Noah, you should ask him yourself.”

The little boy nodded, “I do not wish for them to sting me, but I would not say that I am scared of them – not like Norah is.”

The little girl’s head perked up at the sound of her name, “I am not afraid! I just do not like them very much.”

YN chuckled at the discussion between the small children. They both pulled away from YN once they reached the steps to the house, turning it into a race just as they did with everything. Sighing, YN followed them up the steps slightly slower than they had done. Once she stepped inside the house, she saw both children standing in the doorway of the sitting room with shocked expressions on their faces.

“What is it?” YN questioned, turning to look at what both of the children were staring at. She stopped in her tracks at what it was.

Sitting on the settee was both Harry and Mr Jacobs. YN could not figure out the expression that Harry’s face held, but she could see that Mr Jacobs seemed to be one of happiness. YN placed a hand on the back of the children’s shoulders.

“Why don’t you both get yourself cleaned up for supper?” She smiled, ushering the children out of the room before she stepped inside.

YN stayed standing up just by the door as she watched the uncomfortable air that seemed to be passing between the two men. In all honesty, YN believed that this was probably the first time that they had met properly. They had both been a topic of conversations with YN but had never spoken directly. It caused YN’s stomach to twist.

YN had agreed to meet Mr Jacobs the day after the ball mainly to spite Harry, and the words that he had shared with her just a few moments before. What she had been surprised by was the amount she had enjoyed herself. Their walks had been few and far between over the past year or so, as YN would not have let herself forget the real reason she was there in the first place – and that was the children. She could tell that Mr Jacobs had wished for more, but she was unable to give him that. In all honesty, she did not know whether she wanted to give him that.

She had not expected him to show up at her house, though.

“Mr Jacobs,” YN greeted with a small smile, “It is lovely to see you.”

“As it is for you, Miss YLN.”

YN’s eyes flickered between Harry and Mr Jacobs, “May I ask the reason for your visit?”

Harry cleared his throat and stood up, looking at YN with an unreadable expression on his face, “He is here to ask you a question, YN. Or really, to ask me whether it is agreeable for me if he was to ask for your hand in marriage.”

YN gasped. Out of everything that Harry could have said, she had not expected that. Whilst it had shocked her, there was another feeling present that YN couldn’t quite put her finger on.

With a slight drop of her head she looked towards Harry, “Mr Styles, would you mind leaving the room?”

The second YN said those words, she regretted it. The expression on Harry’s face had gone from unreadable to pained, and she knew that she was the cause of this. She hoped that he would not let himself get too worked up over this. Whilst YN had no idea as to how this would play out, she had hoped that Harry would have a little more faith in her than to just abandon him in this way.

With a nod, Harry nodded and walked past her to leave the room. The door shut behind him, and she was finally alone with Mr Jacobs. That was when she realised the other emotion that was swirling within her – it was anger.

“Miss YLN,” Mr Jacobs stood up, “I had hoped that I would be able to…”

YN shook her head and held her hand out so that he knew not to take a step closer to her, “I do not want to hear it, Mr Jacobs.”

He stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows furrowing at her words, “Miss YLN, if I have done something to offend you –”

“You have,” YN nodded, unable to hold back her anger, “You have offended me, Mr Jacobs. You have offended me by coming to my place of employment to ask for my hand in marriage instead of coming to me.”

“You have avoided me for weeks, Miss YLN,” Mr Jacobs responds, his tone turning stern, “Of course, I had wished to speak to you first, but I was unable to do so.”

“So you thought your best course of action was to show up here and what?” YN sighed, laughing slightly at the absurdness of the entire situation, “Ask Harry for my hand in marriage?”

“I only wished to ask…” Mr Jacobs stopped in his tracks, his expression changing once more, “Harry?”

YN shakes her head, even more confused, “What?”

“You call Mr Styles by his first name?” Mr Jacobs presses once more.

YN scoffs a laugh, “Yes I do, Mr Jacobs, but I do not see how that is your business.”

“I think it is,” Mr Jacobs nods, “Seeing as though he is your employer, and you call him by his first name.”

“Yes,” YN nods, “My employer who is also my friend, and has been for the past four years.”

Mr Jacobs scoffs, “I should have known. I should have known when you were at the ball, even more so when you refused to join me on promenades, and this has just made it even more apparent.”

YN shook her head, “Made what even more apparent?”

“That your affections lie with Mr Styles, or Harry is it?”

YN could not believe what she was hearing. It angered her more so than she thought anything ever could. The audacity of this man to say such a thing – make such a claim when he did not the extent of the accusations that he was making.

“I think it is time for you to take your leave, Mr Jacobs,” YN stated coldly.

“No,” Mr Jacobs shakes his head, placing his hands upon his hips, “Not until I receive my answer from you.”

“I think my asking of you to leave is answer enough.”

Mr Jacobs sighs, “Will you not at least give me a reason as to why?”

“I said leave!”

“I will not,” YN was surprised at the level at which Mr Jacobs raised his voice, “You have no authority to order me out of this house.”

That was when the door opened and Harry stepped in, the look on his face matching Mr Jacobs in anger.

“That is where you are wrong, Mr Jacobs,” Harry speaks calmly, “This is just as much Miss YLN’s house as it is mine, and if she does not wish for you to be here anymore then you should leave. If you refuse, well that is when I shall step in – and I have no qualms in physically removing you from the property.”

Mr Jacobs looks at YN one last time before scoffing and practically storming out of the room. Once she hears the front door from the side of them slam shut, YN thankfully knows that she is in all clear. It takes all of a few seconds before she breaks down, the tears streaming down her face involuntarily.

“Oh, YN,” Harry takes one look at her shaking body, and he is there, wrapping his arms around her shaking body. The pressure of his body against hers was all she needed to collapse, her legs giving way and her body falling to the ground.

Harry is there to catch her, pulling her body even closer to his. Her hands grasp at the lapel of his jacket, hoping that would give her even an ounce of relief.

“Harry,” She gasps, the tears still streaming down her face, “I am so sorry.”

Harry shook his head, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”

YN was sitting at the front of the classroom, the complete silence in the room offering an inch of comfort to YN after a difficult few days.

She was not necessarily one who thought that silent reading time was the best for the children, but she had no other option. The past few days she had not been herself, and unfortunately whilst she had tried to not let it affect her work – there was unfortunately no way that it would not.

YN was staring out of the window when the door opened, replacing the silence in the room with footsteps that could only belong to one person. It was at that point that YN realised that the children had not been reading, and instead had been occupying themselves in other ways. The pencil that Noah had been attempting to balance on his face fell off and clattered to the ground the second his father made an entrance into the room, and Norah dropped the hair that she had been attempting to colour with her crayons.

“Noah, Norah,” Harry addressed his children, “How about you go and find the cook. From what I have heard, she has a plate of treats waiting for you both.”

The children’s faces broke out into smiles, and they bounded past their father, the two of them making it a competition as they did. YN sighed, offering Harry a small smile as he closed the door to the classroom. It was the first time that the two of them had been alone since the incident occurred and YN supposed that was not for a lack of trying on Harry’s part – more so that YN had been avoiding him.

“I know what you are here to discuss, and I fear we cannot,” YN shook her head, watching as Harry leant against the children’s desk and crossed his arms over his face.

“We can,” Harry nodded, “You cannot avoid me forever, seeing as though we live in the same house, and you are the governess to my children. And more importantly, you are my friend.”

YN sighed, “There is nothing to say, Harry. We both know what happened, and I believe the best thing for us to do is move on as though nothing has happened.”

“But we both know that is not the case,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I know that you think the best thing for us to do is ignore the situation, YN, but we cannot.”

YN sighs and nods her head, “Very well, then. Say what you need to.”

Harry sighed and stood up, taking a step closer to YN from over the desk, “Did you want to?”

“Did I what?” YN offered him a puzzled expression.

“Want to marry him?” Harry asks, “Mr Jacobs?”

YN sighed and almost immediately shook her head, “No. I did not. If I had, I would have accepted his hand right then and there. I have told you time and time again, Harry, I am happy just where I am.”

Harry nodded, starting to pace up and down in front of her just as he had the night of the ball. If he was not careful, she would not be surprised if a scuff mark appeared on the floor from his shoes.

Harry stopped directly in front of her and nodded again, “Then marry me.”

YN’s eyes widen. Whilst the last proposal she was shocked and appalled by – this one, she was just shocked. YN could not even believe that those words had just come out of Harry’s lips, and more so that it was directed at her.

“Harry,” YN addressed with a laugh and a shake of her head, “You cannot mean that.”

“But I do,” He nodded, walking around the table so that he was directly in front of the chair that she was sitting in, “I do mean it.”

YN scoffed, “I understand if you are upset with what happened with Mr Jacobs but Harry, what you are saying is preposterous.”

“It is not,” Harry shakes his head, dropping down so he is at eye level with the girl, “I know that you wish to marry, YN, and I am saying – let that person be me.”

“Harry…”

YN’s eyes start to fill with tears, even more so when he reaches forward to grab her hands, “I know that I need to marry, and I know that somewhere, deep down you would like to. We are already acquainted, and I would definitely say that we are friends and I already know that the children like you. I mean – it makes perfect sense to me.”

YN sighed, beginning to shake her head again, “No, Harry you do not mean that.”

“But I do,” He nods his head, his eyes never leaving hers, “I do not think I have ever meant anything more in my life. I lov…” Harry’s eyes widen at his words and then he shakes his head, “I appreciate you more than anything, YN. You have changed my life and my children’s lives for the better. We do not have to care about what society may think, all we have to care about we think. Let me change your life.”

YN opened her mouth, but no words came out. She was truly and honestly in a state of shock.

#governess!yn #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles series #harry styles historical fic

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bueckersstrap · 2 days

Text

THROW AWAY

paige b. x reader

master list + playlist here !

warnings : language, cheating, drinking, sexual content

wc : 2.7k

a/n : this was kinda bad i cant lie 🫥. um also yes i did rewrite iowa v uconn making uconn win😊😊 lmao but anywayyyy chapter oneeee, and were already making plot progress in the slightest!!! i rly hope u enjoy, love u mwahhh - celeste 💘

I. it ain’t really cheating if she don’t see

other then her not much had happened between the two of you, but you realized a couple months after you couldn’t hold a grudge against azzi. so you swallowed your pride, caught her after a class and apologized for any things you might have said about her or any negotiable feelings that go both ways.

in the end you two became civil again but there was a part of you that could never just shake the feeling you had when you first found out. the way your head pounded, your cheeks flushed pink, the way your palms sweat, or the way your nails dug into the pools of your hands. it was all too much to recover from so instead of letting all these feelings haul you, you ignored them.

for paige, nothing had happened. you were still close friends with some of the girls on their team, such as kamorea and caroline, and hoped that whatever happened between you and paige wouldn’t affect that. you occasionally showed up to their games to cheer on your friends, usually being invited to go celebrate their wins but you never took the opportunity because you knew you’d end up back in the loop with paige.

tonight was different, though.

it was march madness, final four. over the course of the month, you watched almost all of their games courtside, thanks to kk and her family. tonight was iowa versus uconn. there was a lot of discourse on the media about paige and caitlin that you tried to ignore, but you were always reminded of paige somehow.

it was the last four seconds of the game and while trying to set up a screen for kate martin it was called an offensive foul. it had been a tight game, but uconn was still up by one.

paige took two free throws she made the first but hit the backboard on the second. sitting courtside, you saw everything. you especially saw how paige silently kicked herself in that moment for missing. it fuelled something in you and you realized that you could read paige even when she was barely showing any emotion. feelings of disgust and resentment blocked you mind until you heard the red blow his whistle. it was a held ball on iowa.

in a flash of events, aaliyah edward’s bounced the ball of caitlin’s back which she couldn’t manage to keep in. the game was bagged for uconn and with point eight seconds left the game was in uconns favor.

aaliyah threw the ball in the air and the whole team swarmed around eachother, jumping in excitement at their new achievement.

after all the celebration had calmed down and everybody was done with their interviews you had caught some of the girls after and congratulated them on their win. you were having a fine time talking to the players that radiated happiness when a laugh you knew all too well cut through the fun lingering in the air. you bit your lip, near drawing blood in stress when you whipped your head to see paige.

the beads of sweat, face read, braids still tight and fixed as ever. you imagine your face must’ve contorted with disgust as you turned back to kk because the look on her face said it all. it said, “clearly you can’t handle being around paige.” you knew it because she said it all the time.

you and kk became friends when she joined the uconn team and soon after got very close. your friendship was something that you held close to your heart because she knew you so well.

“girl, you should totally come to celebrate with us!” kk beamed, “oh- uh. i think i have some work to catch up on, plus my girlfriends still at home,” you tried to seem like you weren’t lying but she obviously saw right through you.

“then do it tomorrow!”

“i’ll be hungover and what about my girlfeind?”

“just bring her! we want to see her again, she’s so sweet” and as kk said this you couldn’t sworn you heard a most minuscule scoff coming from the blond on your right. but before you could stress about that, caroline chimed in, “please y/n! you never come out anymore” earning “yeahs” from the other girls, obviously excluding paige, who now was looking down at her nails.

“okay, okayyy! i’ll come out tonight. send me the details, ill catch yall later,” as soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted it immediately but you didn’t want to back down on your word so you hustled to get ready back at your apartment.

KK : ru okay????

also were going to the bar off main street for around likeeee idk 9:30??

you’ve been there before, yk ?? 8:34 PM

you : girl bye i’m stressing!!

also thank you ! 8:40 PM

KK : stop don’t stress

don’t even think about that

ur gonna have a good night

don’t let white girl over there ruin that for u!!!! 8:43 PM

y/n reacted with a ‘❤️’

“hi baby,” you placed a peck on your shorter girlfriends cheek, “hi, i missed you!” kate smiled back, “how was the game?”

you explained how amazing it was and how epic aaliyahs last play against caitlin was. then you hesitantly started, “so, kk invited us to go out to party with them, at the bar not to far from here,”

your girlfriends face turned from one of excitement to a neutral, tight lipped expression. in retrospect, you should’ve expected the reaction you got in return or the news because at the start of your relationship, (which was technically because she comforted you during the whole paige problem) she made it clear how she disliked paige and those who associated with ‘such a person’. at first you were upset that she would refer to the girl you were once in love with. but then you soon realized that you had no right to feel this way because that’s just who paige was without all the sugarcoating.

“if-if you don’t want to come- that’s- um- that’s fine.”

“no, no. i’d- i’d… love to.”

she was so clearly forcing her excitement but if you pretending not to notice made her come, you’d do that.

you had gotten ready, you wore blue high waisted jeans and a black tube top. kate wore jeans a sweater that you thought was a little casual but you wouldn’t dare say that to her.

you admitted that you looked extremely good tonight but you didn’t want to look like you looked good for a reason even though you did. your girlfriend might’ve picked up on that because when she saw your outfit, she seemed to have tensed up in an uncomfortable manor.

as horrible of a person you might be, you almost felt embarrassed showing up with her. not because you didn’t love her, because you knew paige knew she was better than her. you always explained to paige how you admired her height and muscularity, qualities that kate lacked. you were 5’5 and your girlfriend was 5’0, a height difference that you in fact did not desire but hey, you can’t win them all!

“hey girl!” kk practically screamed, pulling you and kate into a group hug. “hi kk!” you glanced, kate just smiled back.

kk motioned for you two to come and see the girls. you walked over with a bright smile on your face, “hey y/n, hello kate!” caroline was the first to speak, other girls stuck in awkward stage of whether to say hi to kate and you or stay loyal to their teammate.

you smiled at azzi, who was sitting with nika. “i’m gonna go talk to them, babe. you okay?” your girlfriend nodded at you, sitting at the table while you walked over to azzi and nika.

introducing your girlfriend to everybody was fun but everything died down and the group started to do their own thing. you could tell how kate desperately tried to settle in but you could tell she was uncomfortable in the setting. it was hard to see the love of your life ? suffer like that but, it wasn’t her night. and plus, you on the other hand was having the time of your life, still trying to be mindful of kate.

it was long after you and kate arrived and she was being a drag the whole night. you loved her with most of your whole heart but she was just so out of place when you were with the team.

“shots, shots, shots!” you heard paige yell, you had already been drinking too much to make rational decisions so you decided that you would clear the beef with paige just for tonight.

“line em’ up, paigey!” you yelled over the music and erupted a smirk that played on her lips. you realized that smirk was one of pride because when you looked over you saw your girlfriend scoff and roll her eyes. paige lined 6 shot glasses up and poured pink whitney and vodka into them.

the sight of six shot glasses made you nervous, so you tried to seek comfort and glanced at your girlfriend who was now sitting annoyed on the stools beside you.

“m’nervous katieee!”

“then don’t do it? like fuck.” she sneered back at you in clear irritation.

you looked behind you again and yelled at your girlfriend, “dude why are you being sooo fuckinggg negativeee?” you slurred your sentence out before carefully grabbing a shot glass and tipping it back, repeating the action three times more before you tapped out.

“jesus girl, you know how to put ‘em down!” aubrey laughed, patting your back as you absentmindedly smiled in delight.

the other girls that surrounded you and paige, looked a little shocked. you couldn’t piece together why but it was just then that you realized your girlfriend had walked away from the table. you had no energy to try and find your girlfriend so you shrugged it off and everybody resumed their conversations, including you and paige’s.

“i gotta go to the bathroom, p. come with?” you smiled at the taller girl who nodded and took your hand.

as you opened the door to see the quite fancy bathroom you lead her into the biggest stall.

“i fuckin’- fuckin’ hate youu paige” you slightly sniffled, the cold compress of your back to the metal stall-wall was enough to sober you up in the slightest.

“i know you do, shh, it’s okay.” she soothed as she cupped your face in your larger hands and leaned down to connect your lips. you kissed back and the guilt in your stomach bubbled up to your throat. you ignored it, feeling to good in the moment to stop.

“paige- stop. i have,” you sighed out, completely out of breath, “-a girlfriend, i can’t- we can’t do this. i can’t cheat on her.”

“it ain’t cheating if she don’t see.”

instead of rebutting you kissed her again, her hands snaked onto your waist and her hand slowly inched its way to unzip your jeans.

“more paige, please,”

“i know baby, i know.”

her seemingly magical hand always did it for you, the orgasms she gave you just with her hand were beyond amazing. it was something your girlfriend couldn’t do. she was too small, too inexperienced, which wouldn’t have bothered you if it was paige, but it wasn’t. it was kate. and kate wasn’t enough.

you shook off your jeans off your waist and dropped to her knees. she licked a big stripe as she flattened her tongue against your already soaking pussy. your hands flew to her head, “does kate fuck you with her tongue?” paige sneered from under you, all you could do was moan out in response, “does she?”

“no! fuck- no, paige. nobody does it like you!”

just as she pulled your underwear down and sloppily kissed your clit, there was a knock at the stall door. you were so glad there wasn’t a gap between the door and the floor because whoever it was would’ve seen the horrific events that happened on the other side.

you immediately sobered up as you heard her voice, kate’s voice. “hello? paige?” she called out, “uh, yeah?” paige replied, still on her knees, about to dive into you again if you didn’t push her head away in retaliation.

“aubrey said she saw you come in here, i’m guessing you know where y/n is. i- i feel bad for running off.”

“fuck.” you whispered, only for yourself to hear. tears welled up in your eyes as you re adjusted your jeans and top, the guilt you swallowed down earlier pleading and threatening to come back up. the mix of culpability and alcohol was a blend you didn’t recommend.

“i think she took a walk. i didn’t see her, sorry.”

“oh- okay. sorry.” she sighed and walked out

paige bit her lip and stared you in your eyes, you were beyond upset and her out the way, rushing out the stall.

“wait- y/n- stop!” paige called out your name, trying to grab your arm. you shook her grip off, not looking back once.

you made sure to look both ways before leaving the washroom as you didn’t want to run into kate.

walking back to the table in a hurry, you asked, “have you guys seen kate? i need to talk to her.”

“she might’ve went outside, she was just looking for you,” kk looked at you suspiciously as she explained.

“i’ll explain later.” you mouthed to her, rushing off to find kate. it fortunately, didn’t take long as she sat by the car in the dark parking lot. “hey, there you are.” you tried to empathize with her as best as you could, “hey.”

“where’d you go? i’m- i’m sorry for not coming to find you.”

“y/n, be honest. if i never comforted you about paige, would you even have been interested in me other then just venting about the relationship to me?”

“i- of course i would. why would you doubt me, katie?”

“don’t- don’t call me that. and how couldn’t i doubt you? i avoid going out with the team for this reason specifically. you always gravitate towards paige. always have. even when you ‘hated her’.” she quoted the multiple times when you would say you hated paige but would do anything to be in her proximity when you would be out. you knew she was right.

“i’m sorry kate. i really am.”

“your apologies are getting too repetitive for them to mean anything. do me a favour, after i drive you home, i’m going to leave. i don’t want you to call or text, just let me breathe. i’ll be back when im back, okay?”

“kate- no, don’t- don’t do this. we can sort it-“ before you could finish she shook her head, her lips pursed into a line and cooked her keys to unlock the car.

she signalled you to get into the car and you complied. the rest of the drive was complete awkward silence. once you arrived at your apartment, she walked you into your room and faked a smile before leaving and locking the door, “take care of yourself tonight, y/n.” you frowned at her words and the dimly lit apartment fed your pool of sadness that flooded from your eyes.

you couldn’t just blame paige. yes she was enticing you practically the whole night but you didn’t have to give in. you didn’t have to make that snarky comment towards your girlfriend. you didn’t have to admit your sex life wasn’t as good with kate as it was paige. you could, however, blame it on paige for the years that she made you believe that it was normal to live like this. normal to ignore eachother for months on end just to have sex and talk for a fraction of the time you would end up cutting contact with her.

paige wasn’t what mattered right now, it was kate. you might have just ruined your healthiest relationship yet with a girl that cheated, lied, and was altogether toxic.

#bueckersstrap #throw away #paige bueckers #nika muhl #smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #writers on tumblr #lgbtq #wlw #lesbian #18+#fanfic #Spotify

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togglesbloggle · 13 hours

Note

For the Reverse Unpopular Opinion meme, Lamarckism!

(This is an excellent ask.)

Lamarck got done a bit dirty by the textbooks, as one so often is. He's billed as the guy who articulated an evolutionary theory of inherited characteristics, inevitably set up as an opponent made of straw for Darwin to knock down. The example I recall my own teachers using in grade school was the idea that a giraffe would strain to reach the highest branches of a tree, and as a result, its offspring would be born with slightly longer necks. Ha-ha-ha, isn't-that-silly, isn't natural selection so much more sensible?

But the thing is, this wasn't his idea, not even close. People have been running with ideas like that since antiquity at least. What Lamarck did was to systematize that claim, in the context of a wider and much more interesting theory.

Lamarck was born in to an era where natural philosophy was slowly giving way to Baconian science in the modern sense- that strange, eighteenth century, the one caught in an uneasy tension between Newton the alchemist and Darwin the naturalist. This is the century of Ben Franklin and his key and his kite, and the awed discovery that this "electricity" business was somehow involved in living organisms- the discovery that paved the way for Shelley's Frankenstein. This was the era when alchemy was fighting its last desperate battles with chemistry, when the division between 'organic' and 'inorganic' chemistry was fundamental- the first synthesis of organic molecules in the laboratory wouldn't occur until 1828, the year before Lamarck's death. We do not have atoms, not yet. Mendel and genetics are still more than a century away; we won't even have cells for another half-century or more.

Lamarck stepped in to that strange moment. I don't think he was a bold revolutionary, really, or had much interest in being one. He was profoundly interested in the structure and relationships between species, and when we're not using him as a punching bag in grade schools, some people manage to remember that he was a banging good taxonomist, and made real progress in the classification of invertebrates. He started life believing in the total immutability of species, but later was convinced that evolution really was occurring- not because somebody taught him in the classroom, or because it was the accepted wisdom of the time, but through deep, continued exposure to nature itself. He was convinced by the evidence of his senses.

(Mostly snails.)

His problem was complexity. When he'd been working as a botanist, he had this neat little idea to order organisms by complexity, starting with the grubbiest, saddest little seaweed or fern, up through lovely flowering plants. This was not an evolutionary theory, just an organizing structure; essentially, just a sort of museum display. But when he was asked to do the same thing with invertebrates, he realized rather quickly that this task had problems. A linear sorting from simple to complex seemed embarrassingly artificial, because it elided too many different kinds of complexity, and ignored obvious similarities and shared characteristics.

When he went back to the drawing board, he found better organizing schema; you'd recognize them today. There were hierarchies, nested identities. Simple forms with only basic, shared anatomical patterns, each functioning as a sort of superset implying more complex groups within it, defined additively by the addition of new organs or structures in the body. He'd made a taxonomic tree.

Even more shockingly, he realized something deep and true in what he was looking at: this wasn't just an abstract mapping of invertebrates to a conceptual diagram of their structures. This was a map in time. Complexities in invertebrates- in all organisms!- must have been accumulating in simpler forms, such that the most complicated organisms were also the youngest.

This is the essential revolution of Lamarckian evolution, not the inherited characteristics thing. His theory, in its full accounting, is actually quite elaborate. Summarized slightly less badly than it is in your grade school classroom (though still pretty badly, I'm by no means an expert on this stuff), it looks something like this:

As we all know, animals and plants are sometimes generated ex nihilo in different places, like maggots spontaneously appearing in middens. However, the spontaneous generation of life is much weaker than we have supposed; it can only result in the most basic, simple organisms (e.g. polyps). All the dizzying complexity we see in the world around us must have happened iteratively, in a sequence over time that operated on inheritance between one organism and its descendants.

As we all know, living things are dynamic in relation to inorganic matter, and this vital power includes an occasional tendency to gain in complexity. However, this tendency is not a spiritual or supernatural effect; it's a function of natural, material processes working over time. Probably this has something to do with fluids such as 'heat' and 'electricity' which are known to concentrate in living tissues. When features appear spontaneously in an organism, that should be understood as an intrinsic propensity of the organism itself, rather than being caused by the environment or by a divine entity. There is a specific, definite, and historically contingent pattern in which new features can appear in existing organisms.

As we all know, using different tissue groups more causes them to be expressed more in your descendants, and disuse weakens them in the same way. However, this is not a major feature in the development of new organic complexity, since it could only move 'laterally' on the complexity ladder and will never create new organs or tissue groups. At most, you might see lineages move from ape-like to human-like or vice versa, or between different types of birds or something; it's an adaptive tendency that helps organisms thrive in different environments. In species will less sophisticated neural systems, this will be even less flexible, because they can't supplement it with willpower the way that complex vertebrates can.

Lamarck isn't messing around here; this is a real, genuinely interesting model of the world. And what I think I'm prepared to argue here is that Lamarck's biggest errors aren't his. He has his own blind spots and mistakes, certainly. The focus on complexity is... fraught, at a minimum. But again and again, what really bites him in the ass is just his failure to break with his inherited assumptions enough. The parts of this that are actually Lamarckian, that is, are the ideas of Lamarck, are very clearly groping towards a recognizable kind of proto-evolutionary theory in a way that we recognize.

What makes Lamarck a punching bag in grade-school classes today is the same thing that made it interesting; it's that it was the best and most scientific explanation of biological complexity available at the time. It was the theory to beat, the one that had edged out all the other competitors and emerged as the most useful framework of the era. And precisely none of that complexity makes it in to our textbooks; they use "Lamarckianism" to refer to arguments made by freaking Aristotle, and which Lamarck himself accepted but de-emphasized as subordinate processes. What's even worse, Darwin didn't reject this mechanism either. Darwin was totally on board with the idea as a possible adaptive tendency; he just didn't particularly need it for his theory.

Lamarck had nothing. Not genetics, not chromosomes, not cells, not atomic theory. Geology was a hot new thing! Heat was a liquid! What Lamarck had was snails. And on the basis of snails, Lamarck deduced a profound theory of complexity emerging over time, of the biosphere as a(n al)chemical process rather than a divine pageant, of gradual adaptation punctuated by rapid innovation. That's incredible.

There's a lot of falsehood in the Lamarckian theory of evolution, and it never managed to entirely throw off the sloppy magical thinking of what came before. But his achievement was to approach biology and taxonomy with a profound scientific curiosity, and to improve and clarify our thinking about those subjects so dramatically that a theory of biology could finally, triumphantly, be proven wrong. Lamarck is falsifiable. That is a victory of the highest order.

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li0nn3stuff · 1 day

Text

Kiddo

Chapter six

Kiddo masterlist

English is not my first language, be kind.

Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader

•Chapter warnings: obsession, stalking, talking of bullying, fingering•

“Have you seen him?” The girl says excitedly to her friend, looking at the new year boy.

“Yes! What do you think happened to his eye?” She responded giggling.

“I don’t know, but whatever it was, if it left such a scar, it must have been really bad.”

“I kinda like the eyepatch though, it makes him sexy…” The girl smirked as she looked intently at the boy with silver hair passing by the hallway.

“Oh, he’s hot. I would totally fuck him.” The girl smirked in return.

“I’d rather have him fuck me. I have a feeling that he is crazy good.”

Two months after the encounter.

Aemond smirked, looking at his phone, his girl had been texting a lot, since they’ve been friends.

Surely, it’s not how he would have liked to have her, but if nothing, Aemond was patient.

He had his own plan to get his girl only to himself.

On his side, he had his advantage.

She kept texting him about douchebags making fun of her at school.

Some, that he would have loved to rip apart with his bare hands.

Like the guy that was on a date with her, or the girls she was with the day he first saw her. They just wanted to humiliate her somehow. He reassured her with his own stories, advising her how to act on those occasions.

All lies.

He was the popular boy when he was young, despite what he feared as a child, when his scar was still fresh, his marked face brought him nothing but popularity and girls.

Boy’s feared him, the mix of his stoic face, scar, and powerful family apparently intimidated the others.

He lost his virginity pretty soon, and he never stopped fucking ever since, his last year in high school he even fucked in the teacher room, without getting caught.

He fucked a teacher once.

He was a fucking king in in school. He was the one humiliating others whenever he wanted to.

But she didn’t need to know that, did she?

He was only doing her a favor, offering er his comprehension, his help.

There was no way she could find that out anyway.

-I could come to visit you at work?-

He smiled at the new text on his phone. God, she was just perfect.

Aemond was her only friend, and that always made her so eager.

She texted him a lot, day and night, she asked to see him more than one time a day, and if he couldn’t, she then asked if she could facetime him, or at least call him.

He liked the calls, he had the freedom to be hard rock or even fisting his cock as she spoke. He rarely accepted video calls, but sometimes he took the risk, she was just so innocent, he could do everything anyway.

“There were a few tomatoes.” She smiles happily as she turn her phone to show him her little garden, bending down to get at the same level of the plant, making the cleavage her large chemise more evident, he caught a glimpse of her bra, holding those breasts he would want to squeeze in his hands, as he slipped his cock between–

“Can you see?” She asked excitedly. He cleared his throat and nodded, as he brushed his cock with his hand.

“Yes, I can see.” He answered. She smiled even more and stood back up.

“Rory says he wants a salad with my tomatoes.” She says as she looks down to walk without stepping on any plant. Rory was one of her foster brothers, he was five, and greedy.

“Of course he does.” He answered as he carefully unbuttoned his pants, drawing down the fly. He sighed silently, when he didn’t have his breeches restrain his cock.

She chuckled at his remark, looking up at the phone, at him. He felt a rush of adrenaline, lust, going up his spine then straight to his cock, at her looking at him, oblivious of his actions.

“I could bring you some salad at work for lunch, if you want to.” She proposed.

“Mh… What are you wearing, you could get your clothes dirty in the garden.” He slipped his hand in his boxers, caressing directly his cock, letting out a small groan.

“Don’t worry, today I just came to check.” She raised her phone up her head, so her entire figure would be visible on the screen. She was wearing a big white men's button down shirt, and a long wavy white skirt. Her hair was loose and wavy due to the braids she kept during the night.

“So what do you say?” She asked again. Looking at him.

“Another time, kiddo. Tell me about your day.” He leaned back in his chair, his office door was locked, but it was early anyway, so he tugged his boxers down as she started speaking.

-You want so much to see me at work?-

He texted back, smirking to himself. He would have loved to show her around, his pretty girl, have her watching him while he works.

Smell her scent in his office, her real scent, not that vanilla shit he bought.

-You say you work in a high lever of one of the skyscapes, I want to see it! :) -

She texted quickly back, and he chuckled, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment. Did she light the height? He could have brought her to the heavens, if she would just ask him.

-You’re supposed to be at school, kiddo, why are you texting me?-

-Texting you is funnier.-

He groaned as he saw her text, putting aside his phone, and trying to force himself to ignore the urge to go to her school, find her class and fuck her on her table with the whole class looking at them.

He could picture it so well.

How she would ask him to go somewhere else because she’s shy about her body, and mostly because she doesn’t want to be seen or heard.

She would beg him so sweetly, looking at him with her eyes, glossy from tears. And how could he have stopped at such a sight?

-So? Can I come visit you?-

His phone turned on at her text. He looked at it for a while, then he decided to finally text it to her.

-My place is at a higher level. You want to come there?-

He could feel his heart in his throat as he stared at his phone screen. When she started typing, he felt like fainting.

-Deal, time?-

He wanted to jump from his chair and scream. He had her.

He was going to have her in his apartment.

He chuckled, thinking of how he could turn this story into some kind of Raperonzolo’s story, lock her in his apartment, maybe even tied to his bed.

So he could worship her naked body from the moment he came home, untill he left, first with his tongue, then his fingers, and then he would finally fuck her to madness.

He honestly didn’t know why she trusted him.

He was only getting worse since he met her.

He stalked her less, that is true, but only because she gave updates to him herself.

To be fair, he kept stalking her the first few days, but only to be completely sure his girl would never lie to him.

And she never did.

Because she was his perfect good girl.

He was trying really hard to wash the smirk away from his face as he drove to her school. He just couldn’t.

He was going to have her in his apartment, just him and her.

He risked a hard on every time he thought about it, his mind playing infinite scenarios of how he could take her, trick her, use her, and she wouldn’t even realize it, she would think it’s completely normal.

He had to take lots of deep breaths, in order to contain all those freaky, but tempting thoughts.

He will be kind, gentle.

Just for her, he could do it.

Well, he could try.

He hoped.

He parked close to her high school and texted her that he was waiting for her describing his location so it would have been easier for her to find him.

He saw her approaching him a few minutes later, and he leaned to open the passenger door for her.

As much as he would have liked to get out of his car, greet her with a small kiss on her head perhaps, he couldn’t risk it.

His… unusual appearance always made him pretty noticeable, he wouldn’t want anyone to remember him, nor recognise him.

She quickly slipped inside his car and sat on the passenger seat. Smiling softly at him.

“Ehy.” She said, looking briefly at him. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused by her eyes, that had a hint of sadness in them.

“What happened, kiddo?” He asked, feeling a hint of rage burning in his chest at the idea that she had probably been bullied again. She shook her head as she put on her belt.

“Can I tell you later? I– I just want to go away from here…” She mumbled, her cheeks already getting red from embarrassment. He hesitated a moment, looking at her, unsure if to insist or just drive off.

He sighed and looked away, turning on the engine and driving off.

“I… suppose your day at school was not easy.” He muttered, glancing at her. She was staring outside the window, enjoying her view.

“No, actually not, it wasn’t.” She said softly.

“Tell me what happened.” He didn’t want it to sound so much like a harsh order, but apparently, he just couldn’t help it.

“It just feels strange to tell you in person now…” She tried to switch the main subject. “I’m so used to telling it to you by phone or call, it seems almost… strange in an intimidating way to tell you now in person. “ She explained. Aemond sighed as he nodded, trying to be comprehensive, even if he just wanted her to just tell him what happened. He drove off a bit faster, trying to get home as quickly as he could.

She was wearing one of her usual skirts, white, long to her ankles, and a thigh white shirt, but with a black cardigan over it, some black boots at her feet.

He wanted to put his hand on her thigh, squeeze it, and feel the softness on her skin.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asked then, his eye constantly on the road, he won’t force her to talk now, he will do it in his apartment, when she’ll be more comfortable.

“Whatever you’ll like will be fine.” She smiled softly at him.

“Would you rather order a take out?” He asked then, and he saw with the corner of his eye that she shook her head.

“Oh, no, why? We can cook for ourselves!” She said he could hear the excitement in her voice. “Oh, well, if you… I mean, we can go buy groceries if we need to, or–”

“No, it’s fine, I have everything.” He cut off short.

“Then we can cook, we can make something basic, quick… I’m already hungry.” She smiled and chuckled. He nodded, his mind picturing them cooking.

Like a couple.

She would be by his side, chopping some vegetables, he would pass behind her, tease her with some kisses on her neck, pressing her against the counter.

He would press his head against the back of hers, looking down as he pushed his hips against her, letting her feel how hard he was for her. She would whine sweetly, so innocently, as he would start grinding against her, his hands quickly wrapping around her, caressing her belly and going down to–

“Even pasta is fine.” She said again, leading him out of his thoughts. He cleared his voice as he moved on his seat, adjusting his position, as he felt his cock twitch.

“Pasta it is.” He agreed. She smiled again and went back on looking outside her window, as they approached his building. He parked the car and led her inside to the elevator. He didn’t try to stay too close, nor wanted his doorman to suspect anything, especially, because it would be the first time he saw him get in his apartment with such a girl at such an early hour.

Thankfully, she was too engrossed with the luxurious hall to actually talk to him, so they could pass for almost strangers, but then he led her to the elevator.

“What floor are you on?” She asked curiously, looking at the amount of buttons in the elevator, hovering her finger over them.

“Twenty two.” He said, and let her push it for him.

“It must be quite a view!” She said surprised, turning to look at him. His lips curved in a somewhat smile, as he nodded.

“Yes, it is indeed.” She smiled softly and waited for the elevator doors to open, jumping up and down on her tiptoes, impatient.

Once they got there, they entered his apartment.

“Wow!” She immediately commented.

His house was quite modern, most of the walls were wide windows that gave a sight of the city, an open space for his living room kitchen and dining room, his bed and bathroom separated by a hallway. His house was modern, luxurious and elegant.

“Do you live here?” She asked as she watched around, mesmerized by the place.

“I do.” He asked, pleased by her reaction. She stopped and looked at him.

“It’s lovely. shall we cook now?”

As they ate, he tried to make her feel as comfortable as he could in his own house. Small chats were not really his thing. Chatting wasn’t his thing, unless it was for business.

“What happened today at school, kiddo? You still haven’t told me.” He asked as they moved from the table to the couch.

“It’s embarrassing.” She admitted as she rubbed her arm and sat on the couch in front of him.

“You’re embarrassed of telling me?” He raised his eyebrow, looking at her. “You can tell me anything” He sat back comfortably against the arm of the couch. He looked at her as she looked down and started playing with her fingers.

“We had a different lesson today at school…” She starts, and he calmly looks at her, letting her take her time to tell him. “We– we had a lesson about sexual education, and–” She took a deep breath, as Aemond felt that hot feeling on his chest again, anger.”Some of my classmates looked at me, laughing quietly, I– I don’t know, exactly why… but…” She paused again, and kept playing with her fingers.

“But?” He asked, leaning forward.

“But I–I think I can guess why? I– I mea, I’m not… really uhm– I have never.. I’m not familiar with… touch.” He felt like chuckling, but he dared not, especially considering the color of his girl’s face at the moment, red as a tomato.

“Touch. Touch like…?” He asked, a bit confused. She quickly shook her head.

“No, I mean, I obviously get touched! I–” She sighed and shyly put her hand on her arm, trying to prove herself.

“Sexual touch?” He asked then, staring at her hand on his arm. He heard her gasp, and he raised his gaze at her, seeing her so red, he thought she would pass out.

“... yes…” She answered, ashamed.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know, kiddo?” He looked at her and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You just need the right man, when you’ll feel ready.”

“I can0t really trust someone now, can I? I– I mean, I would like to… try new things, kiss someone maybe, but… how, how can I find the right person? You’re the only one I trust!” She pressed her hand on her face, and he smiled briefly.

“If you trust me, I can… help you?” He suggested. He knew she would have never thought bad about what he just said, but he had a clear plan in his mind. She looked at him between her fingers, surprised.

“Help… me?” She repeated.Aemond nodded again.

“You said you trust me.” He stated, and she nodded again, taking her hand off her face. “Then trust me now. Come, kiddo.” He sat right on the couch, and widened his legs, indicating her to sit between them. She looked at him for a moment, trying to understand if he really expected her to do it or not, but seeing his seriousness, she slowly stood up, and moved with her back in front of him, looking behind her as she sat on the couch between his legs.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you want to, okay kiddo?” He murmured in her ear from behind. He saw on the back of her neck and shoulders her goosebumps. “Just know… I’m doing this for you.” He put his hand on her shoulders, caressing her softly, letting his fingers trace imaginary lines on her soft skin, enjoying the contact for himself. He went down to her forearms and arms, ending on her hands.

She turned her head to the side to see him, her mouth slightly parted.

“Answer me, kiddo, I need your words.” His voice hoarse, as he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“O–okay…” She nodded as she uncertainty leaned her head back against his shoulder.

“This fine for you?” He asked as he kept brushing her fingers up and down her arms. She nodded again, closing her eyes. He slowly moved his fingers from her hand to her thighs, just caressing her from over the skirt.

He heard her take a deep shaky breath.

“I’m gonna show you how a man should make you feel, kiddo, okay? If he doesn't, you'll leave them.” He ordered in her ear. She looked again at him, her eyebrows furrowed.

“You can trust me, kiddo, I’m just helping you, you know?” He slowly started raising her skirt. “I’m doing you a favor.” He kept repeating, as he lifted her skirt over her thighs, as she kept staring at him.

“Wh– what do you want to do? Aemond– I…” She started breathing heavily, squeezing her thighs together.

“It’s okay, kiddo, just close your eyes, you’ll feel good, I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” He brushed his lips against her ear, and he felt her shiver. He carefully wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer to his chest.

He looked down at her thighs, so soft and thick.

He brushed his hands over them, keeping his other arm secure around her waist.

“Relax, kiddo.” He whispered, as he slipped his hand between her thighs, finally.

He could feel his cock twitch in his breeches, begging for attention, touch. He groaned and ignored his urges, concentrating on her.

He slowly opened her legs, so that he could move his hand more freely, she didn’t resist him, she completely trusted him.

She shouldn’t be.

“Do you like this?” He asked as he looked at her face, her eyes closed. She pressed her lips together and nodded, her hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

“I’m going to make you understand why people like to touch each other, okay? Will you let me?” He asked as his fingers briefly brushed against her panties.

White cotton, like boxers for girls.

It was so different from all the other panties he had always seen, lace, lingerie, thong.

He always hated unsexy undergarments, yet, the sight of it only increased her sweet innocence, and turned him on even more.

He pressed his thumb against her clothed bud, making her jump back against him, he tightened his arm around her waist and kept her still.

“Shh, shh it’s okay, you like this, it’s okay.” He groaned as he kept pressing his thumb on her bud, slowly moving it from side to side.

“Aem– It’s strange, I– What…” She mumbled as her breathing only grew heavier.

“Calm down kiddo, enjoy it, you like it.” He kept repeating as he kept moving his thumb on her. She threw her head back on his shoulder again, letting out a strangled whine, her hand opening and grabbing his thigh, digging his fingers on his skin. He smirked as groaned softly.

“You like this, kiddo, just relax.” He moved his hand away, and he played a moment with the band of her panties, slowly moving his fingers beneath it, so she could have the time to stop him.

She didn’t, she didn’t, and there was no way he would have stopped now.

He was going to take what belonged to him.

He traced the line of her slit, as she squirmed a bit, whining.

“It’s okay, kiddo, I got you.” He pressed a kiss on her temple, as he moved his fingers again over her slit, feeling how his fingers were getting wet. He smirked again and kissed the top of her head. He pressed his thumb on her bud, as he kept working one of his fingers over her entrance, just teasing her, despite how much he wanted to slip it in, feeling how tight she was, her untouched walls struggling to accommodate one of his fingers.

“You're ready for more, kiddo? Do you want more, more pleasure?” He whispered in her ear. Ste turned her head and opened her eyes, looking at him with her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes shining due to the tears gathering in them, her breathing growing irregular and heavier.

“Aemond… this is strange…” She whimpers as she squirms again, trying to escape the pressure of his thumb on her pearl.

“You want me to stop?” He asked. “You like this, so why do you want me to stop, mh?” He slipped his finger inside, just half of it, and she moaned loudly, surprised, grabbing his arm with both of her hands, holding onto it for dear life, as she kicked her legs, but his arm wrapped around her waist kept her secure against him.

“Aemond– Oh–” She moaned again as he slowly started to move it in and out, not pushing his finger in completely.

“Lay back, enjoy kiddo.” He pushed her back against his chest, and she bent her head back further, her legs bending and opening wider by themselves.

“Aemond… please, it’s so strange–” She let out a choked moan, arching her back. He smiled at seeing her so out of control for a mere finger, his mind wandering, imagining how she would scream if it would have been his cock instead.

“You do not like it?” He looked closely at him, how her face contorted at every single move of his finger. She shook her head. “Use your words, kiddo, I want to hear it.” He ordered, speeding up the movements of his fingers, pushing it deeper, searing for that sweet spot inside her. When he saw her moan again and tried to close her legs, he knew he had found it. She moaned again out loud, her mouth open as she tried to breathe in.

“Say it, kiddo. Tell me. Do you like this or not?” He placed his other hand on her knee, opening her legs again.

“Aemond…” She whined as she turned her head, pressing it against his chest, as she clenched her hands on his shirt, desperately trying to hide herself.

“Stay with me, kiddo, tell me what you feel.” His hand kept working that spot inside her, as his thumb bruised against her pearl, he felt her walls clenching on his fingers.

“I…” She cried out as she tried to hide her face further in his chest. “It… it feels… good.” She moaned again.

“That’s right, it feels good mh?” He groaned as she squirmed again and her body rubbed against his cock. “Fuck–” He growled, he was hard rock, and despite his cock was yearning attention, e was trying to only concentrate on him, even if it was fucking hard.

“Aemond… it feels really good– but so strange, please… I– I don’t know what’s happening… I feel so tense, ah!” She started squirming uncontrollably, her face red, and shiny by a soft layer of sweat as her walls spasmed around his finger, as she came in a loud moan. Her breathing fast, irregular, her face relaxed, her body limp, resting completely on his. He moved his fingers for a few more moments, trying to help her riding out her strong orgasm, but he stopped as he saw a hint of discomfort on her face. He slowly pulled his fingers out, as she rested her face on his chest, her eyes closed, he licked his fingers.

Sweet, pure nectar.

“You okay kiddo?” He asked once he had cleaned his fingers completely. She let out a sweet noise, and he smiled, closing her legs and pulling down her skirt, he pulled her to him, her legs over his thigh as she kept her face pressed on his shirt.

“You were beautiful, you know?” He kissed the top of her head, leaning back on the couch.

He was aware that his excitement was more than evident, and that she could see it, but even feel it against her side, but he did nothing to relieve himself.

Not yet.

Not now.

Maybe in a few minutes?

Tag: @zenka69 @blaustappen @julczimozart @diannnnsss @i66cilla @queenofthekeep @summerposie @tssf-imagines @vaylint @sweet-nothings-s @esposamultifandom @av989436751 @ladythornofrivia @xcinnamonmalfoyx @deliaseastar @kotadislikesthissite @nebulamorada @madelynwalt @shari-berri @seraphdayiwah @witchy-jadda @odeioemail @alphard-hydraes-blog @isntitdelicatevivi @famousrebeldaze @ssnapsaurus @paigeestrawfordd

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unholyhelbig · 3 days

Note

Can't wait for part four oh my god

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 4/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 3,545

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Blood, night terrors, chains, mentions of things under the skin, mentions of torture, terrible grammar.

[a/n: This one may be shorter, but damn if it's not filled with plot. I promise, I don't hate Thor. ]

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Wanda Maximoff stared at you while you slept. She hadn’t meant to do so; she was drawn to you. A blanket that was a soft baby blue was covering you and you’d tightened your grip around it until your knuckles were white. Soft breathes escaped you, and she selfishly thought about other quiet sounds she could draw with her presence.

They’d moved you from the initial containment unit when SHIELD was satisfied enough with your blood results, and your rate of regeneration. There were no more physical tests they could run on you, no more blood or vitals that needed to be taken. So, they’d moved you to a cell that was less like a hospital room and more like a condo.

No, Wanda wouldn’t quite call it that. It was mostly white, the walls honeycombed and equipped with sound proofing in need be. There was a bed, and a nightstand, even a television that was tacked the adjacent wall.

In the corner was a glass containment unit that reminded you that you were, in fact, a prisoner. They’d given you more clothes, simple sweatpants and shirts that had a large stretching logo on the front. You’d considered it a win that it didn’t have an inmate number just below the collar.

Wanda stood at the two-way glass. She didn’t have the heart to push through your reserves when they were lowered like this. And truthfully, her skin still tingled from the first time she had invaded your mind. There was so much there, yet, each time she tried to reach further it was like a rolodex of times and dates, and an immeasurable amount of death.

A calloused hand found its way to the small of her back. Wanda clocked the scent of birch and vanilla. It was familiar and calmed her nerves like a soothing balm. The witch bit down on her thumb nail and spared a worried glance to her wife.

“She looks so peaceful when she sleeps.”

“You wouldn’t believe how loud it is in there.”

Natasha hummed and wrapped her arms around Wanda, resting her chin on the other woman’s shoulder. They both watched you for a few minutes; the curve of your figure, and the rhythmic up and down of your chest. A small frown had etched itself onto your features, but it quickly vanished.

“Nat,” Wanda’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, but she’d turned her head, making it ring loud and clear. “I know we’ve been making jokes about this… toying with her. But, I don’t think I can let her go.”

Natasha squeezed Wanda tighter and made eye contact with her in the reflection of the window. That stare was so genuine that it made Natasha’s heart ache in the center of her chest. She didn’t want to admit it, but she found you quite charming too. Aloof, at times, but there was so much hidden under the surface.

“Yeah, baby. I know what you mean. You’ve always had a thing for the broken ones, and she’s convinced that she falls into that category.”

A sigh moved past Wanda’s lips. Your thoughts were so loud they almost penetrated her defenses. You were having a nightmare. According to Natasha, they all followed the same formula, and if it was anything like she had witnessed; the farmstead, the stretching bone-white rib cage that protruded from the center of a young girl. She wanted nothing of it.

“Can we keep her?” Wanda asked.

A chuckle vibrated through Natasha. Wanda felt the sensation against her spine and leaned into the feeling, laying her hands over the ones encircling her. “Well, I suppose that’s up to her.”

A frown formed against your features, a pained expression that pulled at them both in ways that they weren’t expecting. Through they glass, they could hear small whimpers that seemed to catch in your throat. You burrowed further into the mattress. If Wanda squinted, she could see tears wet your rosy cheeks.

Then the screaming started. It was wracked with pain, and a second one didn’t’ escape you before both women burst through the door. They each had experience with night terrors, though, from the sound of it, nothing as visceral as yours.

“Solnechnyy svet,” Wanda’s low hum was accompanied by her soft touch. You writhed, effectively shoving the blankets away. You were in a pair of shorts and a tank-top. A growl pushed past your lips, something inhuman and startling.

It was Natasha who saw the darkness under your skin. She clenched her eyes tighter, trying to clear her vision. There were black veins that squirmed just beneath the surface in the form of chains. But no, they couldn’t be. That would irrational. Binds forming under your flesh and wrapped around your bones. It simply wasn’t possible.

Unconsciously, you clawed at your throat, at ghostly links that snaked around your neck. It was choking you, making it hard to breathe. A hiccup pushed past your lips and tears continued to dampen your pillow.

“Wanda, what do we do?”

Natasha had placed a hand firmly on your chest, pressing you into the mattress. She didn’t want you to thrash hard enough to injure yourself but she struggled against your strength. Another cry escaped you, and blinked again, trying to push the image of sharpened teeth from her mind.

“We have to wake her up, I think.”

“What if that hurts her more?”

“I think she’s going to hurt herself if we don’t pull her out of this. It’s so loud. God, her mind is like tar.”

Natasha didn’t wait for an explanation. She straddled your squirming form. She gripped both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. A cry escaped you, even in your sleep you tried fruitlessly to buck her off.

“Can you go in and pull her out?”

“I can try. Everything is so dark. Can you hold her still?”

Natasha grits, pushing all of her weight on you. “I’m trying. Jesus Christ she’s strong.”

Wanda’s eyes flashed a dark, and alarming red. Natasha huffed, knowing that it would be impossible to reach either of you in this moment. Her arms were starting to fail her, strands of copper hair falling into her gaze. The phantom binds seemed to tightened, you sputtered and pulled, but didn’t falter in your fight.

The witches shoulders started to tremble, her jaw clenched and whispered words not reaching Natasha’s ears. You bucked again, pushing into her. She tightened her thighs around your center, trying to lean all of her weight on your arms.

Small pin-pricks of pain erupted the tendons in hands. With fierce eyes, Natasha gawked at the pitch black that spread across your fingers. Your nails were elongating, ending in claws that were sharp enough to pierce her skin and even draw blood.

Wanda drew in a sharp and cloying breath before she wretched herself away from you and stumbled back from the bed. Her eyes were crimson and frantic for a few moments before she could blink the color away, chest heaving up and down. You were finally quiet, falling limp under Natasha.

Natasha panted, looking back at her wife “Are you okay?”

Wanda used the back of her hand to wipe moisture away from under her eyes. Her hands were shaking, her stare frantic. “I could taste blood. All I could taste was blood.”

Natasha made a small noise and looked down at you. The chains had vanished, your skin smooth, if not an irritated red from your scratching. She couldn’t’ glimpse your teeth, but prayed they weren’t pointed. Your nails had retracted and left nothing but small cuts behind.

“Mm, what the fuck,” you grumbled, eyes fluttering open, betraying your groggy state. You were fully pulled from unconsciousness when you realized the pressure against you. “What the fuck?!”

“Yeah, I’d like to ask you the same thing.”

Natasha let her own body go slack, she flopped down next to you to catch her breath. Wanda had lowered herself tentatively to the corner of the mattress. She audibly gulped, trying to quell the dryness in her throat.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” You glanced down at Wanda, raising yourself up onto your elbow. “I hurt both of you.”

“Not really, kitten. Just startled us, is all.”

Her words hung in the air. She was a good liar, possibly the best, but you could still detect the trepidation in her voice. Your entire body was buzzing, thrumming with a type of fear that you hadn’t felt in years. Not since the ice broke, and your brothers gurgled screams echoed in the air.

Wanda looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Her skin was pale and her eyes were borderline wild. You’d only ever seen the woman in pristine composure, and this frightened you more than the metallic scent of blood that wafted off Natasha.

She let out a shaky breathe that had her wife shooting up despites her exhaustion. She curled a finger under the woman’s chin and guided her soft stare. “Baby, what did you see?”

Wanda grabbed Natasha’s hand with her own, lowering it down to her lap, but not releasing her hold. Her eyes found yours. “What did you see?”

You drew your legs to your chest and hugged them close. There was mostly dark, but a deepening sense of dread clung to you throughout sleep. “I… was in Jennifer’s apartment but something was off. It didn’t’ feel right and it didn’t take me long to notice it. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and splash my face with water, but when I opened the door, it was, shit, it was this dense forest.”

Wanda nodded as if she agreed with your recall. It was an endless landscape of stretching evergreens. Through the gaps in the trees you could see a mountain range that was dusted with a powdering of snow. You knew you weren’t alone, but you couldn’t quite see who was with you.

“There were chains, dozens of them that I was meant to break. The people around me willed that I didn’t, that I couldn’t. But they were easy to snap, nothing for me to push through.”

“They made other chains, didn’t they?” Wanda asked gently.

You nodded. “I think they were afraid of me. I scared them with my size, with my strength. What does that mean?”

Wanda shook her head and gave you a sympathetic stare. If she had felt a fraction of the fear, the contempt, that you had, then you owed her an apology. It hit you like a stone but could break bones like a boulder if one wasn’t careful.

The glass shattered under the strength of the hit. A fierce ache shot down your spine, the pop of windowpane not registering until the pebble-sized shards reined down around your bare feet. Your breathe had effectively been knocked out of you, and kept out by the mans iron-tight grip on your throat, his other hand keeping you steady by wrapping around the fabric of your shirt.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This man was huge and could easily toss you to the sun if he weren’t restraining himself. He smelled of citrus, of a kind of mint that tickled your throat. Your introduction to Thor, God of Thunder, was not at all what you had imagined.

There was a flicker of anger in his eyes before he launched himself at you. He’d shoved you into the glass pane and decided to choke the life out of you. Your hands clawed at his unwavering grip, lungs burning and legs kicking. Spots had started to form in your vision.

Natasha and Steve tried to pull him away, making little progress. You were losing consciousness, not able to fight back in your current state of shock. His arms were suddenly wrenched back. You fell to the floor, glass embedding itself in it’s skin.

You coughed and sputtered, not registering the phantom manes of red around his wrist, and arms. You curled into yourself, coughing as you greedily took in as much air as you could. Natasha was at your side in an instant. Steve’s aftershave coating your throat as he checked you over. Both disregarded the glass.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Natasha was on her feet, satisfied that you had turned away from death’s doorstep. She closed the distance between herself and the God of Thunder, shoving him with a strong hand. “You touch her again and I’ll put you through a wall. Understand?”

She was deterred by the fear in his eyes. She’d known this man for years, and had him backed into a corner with a protective fury in her bones. Thor was a gentle giant, never using his strength without a driving factor. There was apprehension in his stance, large hands dragging down his bearded face.

“Lady Romanoff, I assure you, you do not know what you are protecting.”

“I just watched you throw someone half your size through a glass window. Explain to me why I wouldn’t protect her.”

She glanced over at you, on your feet and with Steve’s arm around your middle, keeping you up. The hardness of his stare mirrored Natasha’s. Wanda’s eyes were neural, but magic whirred around her fingertips like worms, writhing for purchase.

“That is not a woman!” He laughed, boisterous, yet without humor, he pointed a finger at you. “That is the end of times, the catalyst for the fall of Valhalla and Asgard. My home! If you don’t destroy it, I will.”

“No one is destroying anything.” Wanda snarled, effectively placing herself between Thor and yourself. Her arms were crossed over her chest. “We called to you for answers, not this. You’re welcome to return to your galivanting around space.”

“You expect me to leave? Not until I have it in chains.”

This brought your own stare to his, hardening your stance. A low growl escaped your chest, one that had a dark rumble to it, silencing the entire room. It was inhuman, it pulled the air away and filled the area with tension.

“You see that? That’s just a fraction of power. You let it get in and manipulate you, then you’ll be responsible for the world crumbling. You hear me?”

“Hi, yes,” You raised a shaky hand, “Do I have a say in this?”

“I cannot talk to you!” He said, almost frantically, taking a step back, “I refuse to let you manipulate me.”

Steve cleared his throat, taking control of the room. He removed himself from you when he was certain that you weren’t going to topple over. The pain had turned into a dull hum, and then soon, nothing at all. Your own hair was standing up at the presence of Thor.

“We’re being rash here. You’re clearly bothered by y/n. Before we jump to conclusions, maybe we should talk about this.” He offered, earning a huff and an apprehensive stare. “Explain to us what has you so spooked.”

Yes, god please. You pleaded silently. There was the inherent fear in his stance, but that at least gave way to him knowing exactly what you were. The horror was more accepting than the confusion. He’d sited the end of worlds, and you certainly knew you didn’t’ have that in you, standing in a pair of blood-soaked sweatpants and awkwardly picking a shard of glass from your palm.

Thor’s shoulders had dropped. He’d deflated like a balloon and suddenly looked as pale as Wanda had earlier. He kept his distance from you, licking his dry lips and scratching the back of his head. “Captain, do you recall the struggle of going up against Loki? This deceit and his tricks, and his betrayal.”

He nodded, the room engulfed in quiet. It was their first encounter as a team and so much had happened since then. Natasha clenched and unclenched her jaw, recalling her turmoil with Clint, but keeping her thoughts to herself. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“We scraped by in that war. Can you imagine the damage his daughter will do if unleashed on this world?”

Thor didn’t get an answer. All eyes had turned to you, finally dislodging the piece of glass from your hand. You let it fall to the floor, your mouth opening as if you wanted to say something, but it died before spoken.

“No,” You laughed, shaking your head “No, absolutely not. I have very normal parents who didn’t’ try to take over the world. My dad paints houses and my mom teaches biology and there is no way in hell I’m anyone else’s child!”

He looked at you with a form of pity now. Just like the rest of the Inhuman’s and heroes of the world, you hadn’t kept up with Loki. Of course, you recognized the sourness behind his name. The malice and the hundreds of lives that he took. But you also recognized the familiar feeling in your gut.

“I don’t’ understand,” Wanda spoke up, “We ran all of the background checks. FRIDAY didn’t’ find a single red flag in Y/n’s history. She was born and grew up in Hoboken. The only police report is from a busted house party and she was just in a holding cell until she sobered up. She is, by all accounts, normal aside from digging herself out of her own grave.”

“You were not supposed to die, so you didn’t.”

“I got hit by a taxi.”

“Okay,” Natasha soothed, placing a calming hand on your back. Nothing was connecting, and it all swirled around your mind viciously. Thor was your uncle? Your angry, blood thirsty uncle.

“Loki had three children that were all a threat to Asgard. And for centuries, the population struggled with their existence, feared them. They were unstoppable creatures that craved nothing but blood and carnage.”

Okay, ouch. The only thing you craved right now was normalcy. It seemed so far out of reach. If you could turn back time and go back to your desk job and your quiet comfort, you would be content for eternity.

“Jormungandr was trapped within the waters that surrounded Asgard, meant to float in a limbo for all eternity. And Hel, she was sent to the underworld to rule. Better the dead than the living be effected by her cruelness.” Thor grimaced, nearly shuddered at the thought of her. “And then there is you. Fenrir.”

“y/n,” You suggested quietly.

He pointed at you with a shaking finger “untamable. Feral. They attempted to chain you down twice before they realized that no metal was strong enough to hold you. They needed to trap you in a different way to stop the coming of Ragnarök.”

“What did you do?” Wanda asked, voice unsteady with anger.

“I didn’t’ do anything. The people of Asgard knew that if they were truly to be safe from its reign, then they’d have to banish it somewhere that didn’t’ offer much power. So, they crafted chains. Ones that would keep it’s animal nature restrained on Asgard, but it’s conscious in a constant state of torture.”

“Oh, nice, cool.” You let out a shaky breath. “That’s really comforting, thank you.”

He sneered at you, fueled by years of legend that had seeped into his brain. You couldn’t remember seeing this type of hatred in anyone before, and certainly not the Avenger that was voted the ‘most huggable’ in at least ten teen magazines.

“You tore Tyr’s hand from his body, ripped his tendons and filled your mouth with blood, you greedy animal.”

“That’s enough.” Steve barked. “You’ve explained nothing. If she is some all-powerful world-ending child of a God, then how is she here?”

“Don’t you get it, Cap? This is it’s prison. Centuries of pain. Life after life watching it’s family die in the most horrific ways. It’s the same prison we’ve trapped Loki in for his sins and the same one it’s fated to live forever.”

The dreams you’d had for years flashed before you in a dizzying brigade. Thor looked much too satisfied for your liking but Natasha’s sudden grip on your arm stopped you. She gave you a knowing look, a warning telling you to stay in place, and against your better judgement, you listened.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Wanda said.

“Fine,”

He laughed again, taking a few steps away from the three avengers and their charge. His boots crunched against the glass. He refused to turn his back to you, instead keeping a vicious glare on his features until he made it to the door. You fought off the chills that threatened to work their way through your body. If not for Natasha, you would have fallen back to the floor.

“Be warned, Lady Romanoff. When I return, I will not be alone. I cannot guarantee your safety in the event that you throw yourself between me and this beast again.”

“Go.” Wanda rumbled, “Now.”

Thor held up both hands, nodding his head at Steve before he finally willed himself to turn. The three of you watched helplessly as you walked with a purpose down the corridor. His footfalls echoed, and you swore that you could hear them even when he was out of view.

[Taglist💕: @dannipotatoo, @non-binary-frogking, @mysticalmoonlight7, @metanoiablxxm, @coxlong, @b3nzzzzz, @simpforlizzie, @delulu-bayolet-era, @dorabledewdroop, @crescentcrush, @roselockwood, @ellieromanov, @leenasayeed, @theowlappears, @pitifulbinx, @pepemyfantasy, @tekanparadiae, @skittlebum, @mariabeloskivismyoc, @natsbiggestfan1, @marvelwomen-simp, @cinffy23, @kyky-maximoff, @natalierushmansstuff, @bstvst, @lezzylover, @404-almostdone, @mishimrno, @maxidentbby, @shayarshucky, @merlinsouls, @neothepotato, @aliherreraaa, @olicity-boo, @tarathia, @thinking1bee, @shayarshucky, @bstvst]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Wanda Maximoff #scarlet witch #black widow #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Wanda Maximoff x you #Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff x y/n #Wandanat #Wandanat x reader #Wandanat x you #Wandanat x y/n #Marvel

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yuri-is-online · 2 days

Note

Jade falling in love for the first time and being an absolute loser simp about it.

Yuu lives in his head and fantasies rent free; he can't get enough of them. He wrote about them in his diary (one with a lock on it because floyd likes to snoop). He needs them so bad. It's like that one meme where the girl is like "I need him in a way that's concerning to feminism". He's so desperate someone help him.

Bro has innocent little fantasies of them together, like Yuu waking up beside him and peppering his face in sweet little kisses while he tries to hold them closer and convince them to stay in bed for 5 more minutes (it never really does just end up being 5 minutes though), and then his thoughts just take a sharp turn and what was a sweet little daydream has turned into thoughts of him softly and sleepily fucking Yuu into his mattress. He didn't get to go back to sleep but he's not complaining about it if this is the cost he's paying. The world us cold and hard but you're soft and warm and if fantasies are the closest he's getting to that peace then so be it

He is one jealous eel (he is in deep denial about this but us slowly starting to realize just how far deep into this he us and he really doesn't want to acknowledge that), and he get the most jealous over the most innocent shit too. One day he sees Yuu and Epel talking in a language he doesn't recognize and he's like ???, and it turns out it's their native language but it doesn't exist here so he can't learn it dammit. He sees them struggling to do something and look around the library for help, skipping right over him and asking Ace ir Deuce for help. They've even picked Leona for help before him! Seriously he is RIGHT HERE! what can any of them do for Yuu that he can't?!

Jade has to be careful with his merform around them. Partially because everytime Yuu walks into the room his body suddenly decides to cosplay a laser rave, but also because he's been overthinking shit recently. Yuu is a human, painfully so. They're expecting a human courtship and a human marriage and a human family and a human life and. He can't give that to them. Not unless he stays on land forever, which he might be able to do, but realistically he wouldn't want to. So that leaves Yuu coming to the coral sea where it's cold and dark and he just can't see Yuu doing something like that (he's wrong you've wanted to be a mermaid ever since your cousin made you watch H2O when you were like 7), so now he just trys to be as human as possible around you so he doesn't scare you off.

Also there's the fact that every time spring transitions into summer and he's stuck in his merfirm for the next week and a half and now you really can't see him like this because if he sees you then you're going to be dragged into the water so fast with an 12 foot long eel wrapped around you while he desperately tries to stop himself from being too desperate and start rutting against you and- Oh great seven he's so sorry-

Oh, you like that? Your bringing his face to your neck and fuck you smell so nice and he's biting down and tearing your clothes apart with his claws before he knows what's going on and your legs are wrapping around his tail and-

... Grotto. Where's the grotto he had picked out? He was just in it where is it?

Jade asks you for art supplies in one of his birthday lines so he can draw while he hikes. His "diary" is something Floyd took an interest in once upon a time until he saw it full of mushrooms, rocks, and mountains. Jade still puts a lock on it because he finds it funny looking, but there's more than just mushrooms in there now. Need he's not merely in love he's in need of you and it's affecting his ability to function.

If he wakes up alone in his dreams he will find you in the kitchen, trying to hurry up and make your tea so you can so you can surprise him for once. It never works as he's able to trap you against the counter and breathe down your neck, winding himself around you as you laugh the pure music that he thinks your laugh would sound like as he presses into you so you can feel how much he wanted to to be next to you this morning. How troublesome that he had to go find you and draw out his suffering, not to fret. He loves you so, there's no reason to worry that he won't be gentle with how he lowers you down onto the counter, he'll still prepare you softly but he won't be slow in how he takes you-

He's slow to return to wakefulness, he doesn't mind the cold because it makes him feel at home but he does not like being alone. Loving you is a lot like losing you because he becomes so aware of how he is alone. Jade sees himself as a good person to ask for help, he does not think he is wrong in his benevolence but perhaps that's exactly the problem. Perhaps you know what trifling thing he is working towards obtaining and find him unworthy, Epel can speak to you in ways he can't (to ask you to teach him your speech is an option of course but he knows it's too intimate a thing to ask of you now), those fools found you first and treasured you when he made the awful, idiotic mistake of thinking you boring so of course you would see him in the same way. Of course you would feel safer asking things of Leona, he's the one who saved you while Jade was helping Azul drown you and it's not like he did much to make you see him when you stumbled into the Lounge running away from Jamil. You asked Leona for help, you came to them by accident, and Floyd was the one who got to carry you. Something he definitely didn't make fun of him of him for being jealous about. "Ya got to wake your mate up and see what they looked like sleepin' wasn't that nice?" Oh how he hard he wanted to punch his brother for that. So he did. It made him feel much better.

It takes time but he manages to weave his way into your orbit. He gets to see more of you, and he feels conflicted. The octotrio has gotten to see a lot of humanity, and they feel like they have enough of a grasp on them to conduct their business. That's something that certainly contributed to his thinking of you as boring of course but well. The more he sees of you now the more he realizes how little he really knows about humanity and the surface, he might not see the appeal of the surface world but he sees the appeal of you. Still he knows he wouldn't be happy if he stayed on it forever, how could he possibly ask the same of you? There's barely any sunlight under the water and humans need that to survive... he's done his research on corners of the internet he would have just laughed at before he fell for you and he knows what they say. That humans and merfolk only seldom stay together in the way that he wants, that they find his sort of merfolk to be terrifying. It can't help that he was your enemy at first can it...

I sort of like the idea that Yuu's interest in the less than human looking boys would be considered weird. The concept of a monsterfucker isn't foreign exactly but a monster-marry-and-raise-a-family-er is. There is a difference between a relationship and a sexual fantasy and Yuu sees no reason they can't have both, to the chagrin of damn near everyone around them. So it makes you sad to see him hide himself away from you and wonder why he hates his own beauty so much. He keeps his teeth from you, tries to hide his merform too and you just don't understand why. His bioluminescence takes your breath away and fills you with such soft stirrings of attraction you cry into your pillows and write 10 more pages about how desperately you want to drown yourself for just one chance with him! But he's running away from you and now Azul tells you he's going to be out of commission for a solid week with a sigh that you know is theatrical but still worries you. So you confront Jade about it and he seems almost sick, unable to control his transformation as he displays for you winding around the bubble that keeps you breathing outside of Octavinelle's dorm. The lights take your breath away long before he breeches the bubble to press up against you and moans somewhere deep into his throat letting his instincts guide him for just a few blissful seconds before he flops back with a stammer because oh no, not like this never like this please forgive him and run back to-

He's not expecting to be pulled back, you look as hungry as he feels as you guide him to your neck and whine something about how you need him when he's the one supposed to be saying that and scream in radiant joy when he bites. You are trying to wrap around him, to grind into him, babbling in frustration trying to scratch at his shoulders for a grip so you can wind your legs tighter around him-

He pushes the bubble away from the entrance and steers it haphazardly back, there's a place for this. Safe, secluded, and warm he made sure to pick one where a bit of sunlight could still reach the sandy floors and fuel you as he finally takes what you were always willing to give. Slowly and softly until he has you relaxed into his trap and then oh so gently for all the time after.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu #twst smut #suggestive

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number1mingyustan · 3 days

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hihi !! I love your fics sm. <3

If you're taking requests can you do Mingyu as a biker bf? What if you wanna learn how to ride a bike and he says "you should practice on the biker first." OMFGGG IM CRAZY. Love you

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, kissing, explicit smut, oral (f+m), sixty-nine, unprotected sex, creampie, riding, light breast play, multiple orgasms

_______________________________________________

Mingyu nibbles on his bottom lip as his eyes remain fixated on the easel in front of him. He's concentrating, hand moving slowly as he drags the brush along the canvas.

You smile to yourself, feeling your heart warm at the sight of him.

Painting is not his thing.

Even with all the effort he seems to be putting into his painting, his lines are crooked and a little messy. He knows this too, he's never really been one for the arts.

Painting is one of your hobbies and always has been. You're more of the artistic type and Mingyu well... Mingyu likes his bikes. He's got more of a grunge sort of vibe that consists of leather jackets, obnoxious motorcycles, and cigarettes.

You were polar opposites. You preferred your quiet life in the arts, sundresses, walks in flower fields, and painting. You've noticed the way he's softened up since you two met, you're sure it's the effect you've had on him.

He sticks his tongue out, drawing his last two strokes before dropping the paintbrush into the cup. "Done."

You turn your head, completely facing him. You eyes scan over the painting in front of him and your smile grows. "Gyu you've gotten so good at this."

He grins at the praise. "Learned from the best."

The painting in front of him is simple, a landscape of a beach sunset. There's not nearly as much detail as the reference photo in front of you two, but it's undeniably solid work, especially for a beginner like your boyfriend.

He leans over, planting a kiss onto your cheek. His eyes can't help but drift to your painting as he does so.

"Oh wow," His jaw slacks open.

He admires your painting. Even though the two of you painted the same thing, yours is exponentially better. He loves how talented you are, and you never fail to impress him.

________________

When Mingyu comes home the next evening, he expects to see you. You're usually in the living room or the bedroom. He searches the house for you, checking every room to no avail.

He frowns. He saw your car parked out front, so he knows you're here.

A loud sound suddenly catches his attention. He makes his way toward the source of the sound, walking downstairs into the garage.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, racing to the aid of the bike.

You struggle to hold the heavy vehicle up as it remains tilted inside the garage. Your boyfriend saves the day, rushing to your side and helping you to lift the bike up to its proper stature.

"Sorry," You apologize quickly. "I swear I was being careful!"

Your words are muffled. He looks at you with confusion written over his face. You're wearing black leggings and a tight-fitting black zip up. It's unusual attire for you.

Not to mention his entirely large helmet is covering your head.

"What are you doing?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You say.

"What?" He asks.

You pull the oversized helmet off of your head and place it under your arm. You huff out.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You move your hair out of your face. "I was trying to surprise you."

"You hate bikes, babe," He lets out a breathy laugh, taking the helmet out of your hands.

"I've had a change of heart," You insist.

He raises an eyebrow. "Why so suddenly?"

"Well... I don't know. When we were painting it made me realize how much you've embraced my hobbies and stuff. I wanna embrace the stuff you like too," You explain. "So teach me.... please?"

Oh you're adorable, He thinks to himself.

"That's very sweet Y/n," He grins. "But it's okay."

You cross your arms over your body. "But.."

"If you really wanna get into my hobbies, we can find another one baby," He kisses your forehead. "But taking my bike is extremely dangerous and it's probably good that I caught you."

"I know," You say.

You lean against the bike, staring at the vehicle with a glint of sadness behind your eyes. You trace your fingers along the metal of the bike, admiring your boyfriend's precious vehicle.

He places the helmet down. "You know, if you wanna learn that bad, you should practice on the biker first."

It takes a second for his words to settle into your brain. You lean against the bike and raise an eyebrow. "Gyu?"

He walks closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you in close. You can feel his breath fanning over your skin, causing goosebumps to raise. His lips press against the shell of your ear.

"Come upstairs," He whispers against your ear. "I'll teach you whatever you want to know."

You intertwine your fingers with his. He pulls your body back into the house and leads you upstairs.

"You're so cute," He smiles. He presses his lips to yours. "I love doing the things you love.... love you." He says between kisses.

He lifts you up and carries you into his bedroom. He places your body down on the bed and pulls off his shirt. His toned body is exposed, muscles bulging beneath his warm skin as he looks at you with hungry eyes.

His back meets the bed with a small thump and he pulls your body on top of him. Your hips meet his and he lets out a soft groan. You pull off your own shirt and drop it onto the ground. You grind against his hips slowly. He unzips your jacket and pulls it off your body.

His hand snakes around the back of your neck and he pulls you into a passionate kiss. He moans against your lips as you continue to grind against his hardening cock.

You can feel him growing beneath you. His cock swells in the confines of his jeans, causing you to moan as you grind down on his growing length. Heat rushes between your thighs and the aching need for pleasure grows in your body.

You pull away from the heated kiss and sit up. You pull your shirt over your head and Mingyu sits up too. He kisses up your stomach and continues to grind against you needily as you unhook your bra. You let it fall and his lips immediately travel to your breasts.

He holds you by your hips as his lips wrap around your nipple. He sucks on your skin, ensuring to give both your breasts the same amount of attention. Your skin burns at the feeling of his touch. Be it his lips on your chest or his hands on your waist, it ignites something in you.

But as much as you love it, you quickly grow impatient. You lift your hips and pull your underwear and leggings off in one go. You toss them and start undoing Mingyu's black jeans.

"C'mre," He says, pulling at your legs.

He lifts your legs and flips you over so he can taste you. He wraps your legs around his head and immediately starts sucking on your clit.

"Fuck.." You moan out.

Your grip on his jeans quickly grows weak as pleasure clouds your senses. You try to undo the buttons, but the feeling of his tongue on you is highly distracting.

He sucks on your clit, occasionally lapping his tongue through your folds. The pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach quickly. You're finding it difficult to do anything, squirming and grinding against his face.

He holds his hands on either side of your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. He moans against you, nearly enjoying it almost as much as you are.

You finally get him undressed and return the favor. You take his hard cock in your hand, stroking his length and spreading the precum from his leaking tip.

He moans against you again, allowing his eyes to fall shut as relief washes over him. He keeps his focus on you, pushing two of his fingers into your soaked hole.

You take his cock into your mouth, moaning around his length as you feel his fingers fill you up. He sucks your clit and his digits pump into you, and the vibrations from his moaning quickly have you nearing the edge.

His cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat as you stroke his length, bobbing your head to make him feel equally as good as you do.

You find down against his face with little to no coordination. Your hips move desperately, chasing your incoming orgasm as your saliva coats the entire length of his cock.

He curls his fingers into you and pumps them at a faster pace. His face is coated with your arousal and he slurps it up gladly, wrapping his lips around your clit and circling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

You lift your head, crying out as your orgasm overwhelms you. You grind against his face and fingers as you cum, continuing to drip onto his face.

"Hah-shit," You moan out.

His cock still remains in the grip of your hand, leaking more precum as he tastes you on his tongue.

When you come down from your high, his hands are quickly on your body. He pulls your body flush against his, kissing you sloppily and needily.

He is so obsessed with you and everything about you. His hands wander along your skin, tracing over every inch of your body gently. He lays on his back, pulling you back on top of him without breaking the kiss.

You're the one to pull away, lifting your hips on his lap. He leans back, allowing you to take over.

You sink down onto his length, groaning at the stretch of his cock. He holds you by the hips, guiding you down on his cock. The warmth of your pussy envelopes him perfectly, dripping down his length as you accommodate his length.

"So good baby," He moans.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you sink down, only tightening as he fills you up bit by bit. You gasp out once your hips meet, feeling the entirety of his length inside of you.

"Fuck...holy fuck–" You grip the bedsheets.

You start moving your hips slowly, still getting used to the feeling of fullness. He's patient with you, guiding your hips with soft hands and gentle movements.

You start to pick up a steady rhythm, lifting your hips and sinking down onto his length. You roll your hips with each movement, allowing his cock to fill you up and reach deep into you.

It feels so fucking good.

He watches you with love and lust clouding his eyes. His gaze is locked in on you, admiring how beautiful you look right now. Your mouth hangs open as loud moans pass through your lips.

Your body is dripping with sweat and your tits are bouncing in his face every time you lift your hips and sink back down onto his length. The stretch of pussy is addictive, sending waves of pleasure through his cock and entire body.

He sits up, resting his hand on the small of your back. Your hands wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as your chests press together.

He lifts his hips, matching your pace as he fucks himself into you. You cry out, lips pressed against his shoulder. The feeling is intense and addictive and incredibly intimate.

His cheeks are flushed red and sweat glistens down his face and abs. His hair falls perfectly on his face and you can't help but admire him. His mouth remains in a small 'O' shape, allowing small moans and grunts and groans of pleasure to ring in your ears.

"Fuck baby," He moans. "I'm close."

His head tilts back, exposing his adam's apple to your line of sight. He continues to thrust into you, cock pressing against the sweet spot deep inside of you with every movement of his hips.

"Hah-me too," You pant.

The pleasure continues to grow, eventually overwhelming your entire body. You cry out and your body falls limp against him. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, moaning and breathing heavily as you cum around his cock.

Your pussy throbs, tightening around his length and bringing about his own orgasm. His hips still and his cock swells as he fills you with his load.

He lets out a long groan as he pumps his load into you. Your chests rise and fall in unison as you breathe heavily and come down from your orgasms. You lift your head and cup his cheeks with your soft hands.

His vision clears and his eyes meet yours. He flashes you a grin. "Hi baby."

You return his expression with a shy smile. "Hi Gyu."

He presses his forehead against yours and plants a kiss on your lips. "I love you, pretty girl."

"Love you more," You grin.

"Impossible," He smiles.

His hands hold your hips as he lifts you up. You wince at the emptiness and and lays you down on the bed. He presses a kiss onto your bellybutton and stands to his feet.

He disappears into the bathroom and you hear the bathwater running. He comes back a few minutes later and picks you up bridal style. You wrap your arms around him happily and he carries you to the tub. He slips into the warm water behind you, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder and back.

"Baby," he says.

"Hmm?" You quirk up.

"We can take a ride tonight if you want, on the bike," He proposes. "Together."

You perk up. "Really?"

"Yeah, but you can't be scared," He grins.

"I'm not!"

He kisses your shoulder. "Okay baby, whatever you say. Just hold onto me tight and I won't let you fall and teach your a few things. Sound good?"

You tilts your head all the way back so your eyes meet his. You smile. "Okay. I love you Gyu."

"I love you too."

_______________________________________________

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen drabbles #mingyu smut #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #kpop

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kurogane2512 · 2 days

Note

what do you think of a threesome breeding fic with Signora and Crucabena

My first thought:

Seriously tho, both of them would have a breeding kink for sure😮‍💨

NSFW BELOW

I imagine it's Crucabena who makes you wear a condom every time, even though Signora personally wouldn't mind if you didn't but she doesn't say it. Then comes one night when Signora becomes needy and wants you raw inside. She watches as Crucabena rides you while she sits on your face and you lap up her cunt, she looks at the wrapping on your dick and almost pouts thinking it's unfair she can't have you raw when she wants it.

So when she gets her chance, she slips off the condom and you think she's going to put a new one but instead you watch her straddle you and begin to take your dick inside. You look at her in surprise and she simply smirks and continues pushing it in, until it reaches her deepest parts and makes her moan in ecstasy. Your cock twitches inside her, her walls are so warm and tight that you feel like bursting right away.

"Remember this, I'm the first one who had you raw inside. Now you better not disappoint me~" she says with a smirk and begins rocking back n forth, biting her lower lip and sighing in pleasure.

"My, how unfair, Signora. You should have told me earlier you wanted it raw so much, I would have made suitable arrangements~" Crucabena says with a chuckle and sits beside you, caressing and kissing your face.

"Hmph. Unlike you, I have no problems in doing it raw. Besides, my insides are better, aren't they, my love?~" Signora leans down and kisses your lips.

"Oh? 'My love?' Hehe, looks like you two had some secret endeavours behind my back. I didn't expect you'd make me jealous of all people, Y/n~"

Signora scoffs and proceeds to bounce on your cock now so that you'd focus on her instead of Crucabena. You groan and hold her hips to keep her steady, slowly thrusting up into her and making a rhythm with her movements. Crucabena watches you two with interest, she wasn't lying about what she said earlier. She indeed felt jealous, and she knew Signora used to become jealous as well in the past. Signora moans as you stretch her out with your thick cock, your tip brushes her sensitive spots every time.

Your gaze doesn't leave her body, intently watching her breasts jiggle with how fast she rides you. Your dick feels like melting inside her, her walls clench you to dear life. She moans even louder now and you can tell she's close to cumming, she gazes at you with love but to her dismay, Crucabena soon straddles your face and sits on your mouth. Signora grits her teeth and glares at Crucabena who smirks in response, your tongue plunges inside Crucabena now and she moans out as you lick her.

Their moans and sighs of pleasure mix together forming a melodious harmony in your ears. They have such sweet and sultry voices that you can't get enough of them, it makes you thrust into Signora harder and pinch Crucabena's clit to draw out more of their exquisite moans. Signora wished to look at you as you'd cum, she wanted to feel that connection with you but Crucabena denied her. Both of them had caught feelings for you long ago, after all.

Signora arches back as she cums and feels your seed fill her up finally, her head thrown back as she moans out loud feeling your cum pour inside her and stuff her. Crucabena isn't far behind and cums soon after with how well your tongue pleasures her, both of them moaning in ecstasy and panting out while still straddling you. Signora gets off your dick and lays beside you to rest, and Crucabena wastes no time to straddle you now.

"Come on, show the same enthusiasm for me as well otherwise I'll feel sad~"

And you do, you sit up and turn over so that you are on top. Furthermore, you flip her over so her back is facing you. Crucabena whimpers with how roughly you handle her, but she loves it so much and you know it too. She wants to be fucked dumb the most, she wants to release all the stress from looking after the children and you give her most relief. You grab her hips and plunge your cock deep inside then drill forward with reckless abandon, her body falls on the bed as she lets you do whatever.

You harshly pull her into you every time you thrust, essentially using her as a toy. She whimpers uncontrollably, much louder and incoherent than Signora. You push her lower back down making an arch of her body and plow hard and fast, she's seeing stars by now and has no way of turning things. Soon after, Signora comes behind you and begins kissing and biting your neck. She holds you close as you rock your body inside Crucabena, then moves your hand under her cunt telling you to finger her.

By the end, both of them are stuffed full with your cum so much that it leaks out of them and their pussy throbs. They are definitely going to make you do it this way every time from now on.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #signora x reader #genshin impact smut #la signora #genshin women #la signora x reader #crucabena #crucabena x reader #genshin impact crucabena

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flowerandblood · 6 hours

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The Fall from the Heavens (34)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, mention of killing a lot of people, catching others having sex ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

It seemed to him that never before in his life had he felt such fury as he did that evening when an attempt was made to poison his wife. He ordered all the servants to assemble in the hall, and then watched as one by one they tasted the wine that had been prepared for the supper for his wife and their cousin.

Some of them began to sob, and some of them were clearly unaware of what was happening − however, he decided that he couldn't take any risks, and soon they were all lying on the ground, looking like terrifying monsters from nightmares.

Their eyes bulging and red, their mouths full of blood and foam, their skin at once purple and pale.

He ordered the guards to watch over his and his cousin's chambers throughout the night and to bring fruits and other things to eat that could not be poisoned.

They had to manage in this way until they questioned and found new servants, whom he was going to choose himself.

As he walked into his quarters, he saw Baela lying on his bed in the darkness, his wife snuggled into her, immersed in a restless sleep.

"− she just fell asleep −" She whispered, lifting herself to sit up, trying to do it quietly and slowly so as not to wake her.

He hummed under his breath at her words and nodded.

"− you may return to your chamber now − I have assigned you guards from King's Landing − they will watch over your safety all night −" He replied, wishing she would just leave them alone at last.

Baela stepped around him and left without another word.

He sighed heavily as he walked over to the bed and lay down beside her, pulling his eye patch off his eye beforehand, feeling the pain in his eye socket due to the stress − his heart squeezed as her body instantly clung to his, recognising him, her hands tightened on his leather tunic.

"− uncle −" She muttered, lifting the dreamy gaze of her eyes to him. He kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair with his palm, hushing her.

"− shhh, my love − sleep − no one will threaten you anymore −"

"− are they dead? −" She asked quietly, and he swallowed hard.

"− yes, my love −"

"− all of them? −"

"− yes −"

"− and what about Alys? −"

"− her life belongs to you −"

"− thank you −" She whispered tenderly.

He swallowed hard, feeling the anger and rage slowly begin to leave him, giving place to his horror and disbelief.

"− embrace me, Rhaenys −"

He sighed as her small arms embraced him tightly at the waist, her face snuggled into the hollow of his neck, her legs entwined with his. He sank his hand into her hair, drawing her close, feeling the scent of vanilla fill his lungs wonderfully.

His wife and his child were alive and safe in his arms.

"− how did you know? −" He asked quietly, although some part of him knew the answer.

"− she told me − she warned me again −"

He sighed heavily and kissed her forehead again, her body warm and familiar, his.

"− I could have lost you − you and the baby − I thought we were safe here − but I promise no one threatens you anymore − I will choose new servants myself −" He whispered and she nodded wordlessly, snuggling into him as if she wanted to melt into one with him.

His hand slid down her waist between them and stopped at her womb.

He thought he wanted to tell her.

He wanted her to know that whatever she brings out into this world, it would make him happy and grateful towards her.

"− I will love our offspring − even if a little girl with your dark hair is born − I will love her because she will be my beloved wife's gift to me and our kingdom −" He whispered, imagining in the back of his mind their daughter so similar to her with his violet eyes, smiling in the same wonderful way as her.

How could he not love her?

His niece's words snapped him out of his reverie.

"− I want to give you seven children − as many as there are gods −" She murmured, stroking his hand with hers. He involuntarily snorted at her words.

"− after this, will you stop letting me between your thighs? −" He asked lowly and heard her sigh.

He knew she was smiling.

"− I fear no force will stop my uncle from reaching for what he desires −" She cooed, lifting her head, meeting the amused look in his eye.

Little tease.

"Indeed."

He swallowed quietly, coming up with an idea that seemed mad to him at first.

What if they had both decided to stay in Harrenhal?

Then they would not be prisoners of any family, neither of them would feel threatened, stranded.

The fortress was theirs, they could do what they wanted with it − they could live in it.

He thought he wanted that for them.

Peace and quiet so she could carry his child in her womb in peace.

"Let us not return to King's Landing or Dragonstone." He whispered. "Let us stay in Harrenhal. Let us create our own legacy. Give birth to our child here. Neither of us will feel like prisoners."

She blinked, completely taken aback by his words. She swallowed quietly, thinking hard, only to lift the warm gaze of her bright eyes to him again a moment later.

"Very well. It's my desire too." She said quietly and touched his cheek with her palm, running her fingers over his jaw. He closed his eye and let the air out loudly − a hiss broke from his lips as he grasped the place where the sapphire now glittered in his eye socket with his hand, feeling that piercing, burning pain in his skull again.

It felt like someone had hit his head with a hammer.

"− uncle? −" She muttered terrified, touching his shoulder, but he just shook his head.

"− it will pass − it always passes −"

"− is it your eye? − does it cause you pain? −" She asked tenderly, worried and concerned, her large eyes open wide in horror at his condition.

For a moment he felt that the pain had taken away his speech, so he just shook his head, letting her know that he just needed to rest for a while.

"− should I call the maester? −"

"− no −" He whispered with difficulty.

He lay down on his back, still keeping his hand over his eye, breathing deeply, reminding himself that this had always helped him.

He realised that since his niece had come back into his life the pains in his eye socket had stopped as if by magic − before, for eight years they had tormented him notoriously, most at times when he was angry or frightened.

It had been months since he had felt as much fear as he did that evening.

"− can I do anything to relieve you? −" She asked helplessly, sitting beside him, her hand stroking his shoulder reassuringly.

"− no − lie down beside me and embrace me − I need to calm down −" He muttered, and after a moment her body was already beside his, her head clinging to his chest where his heart was beating.

They lay like this in silence, not speaking for a long time, her fingers stroking his free hand lying on his stomach. He concentrated only on that − on her presence, on the warmth of her body, on her scent, on her touch, and he felt the pain become less and less stinging, fading further and further, relaxing his tense muscles.

They both finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

He spent the next few days selecting new servants. He had them brought from villages independent of Lord Strong, warning them that they were to be loyal only to him and his wife, on pain of losing their heads.

He ordered his guards to watch them closely and supervise how the food was prepared, lest someone tried to poison his wife or his cousin again.

Although impatient and concerned that Lord Strong had sunk to the ground, apart from that, he felt this relaxed and content for the first time in his life.

His wife was at his side of her own desire, free and thirsting for his presence.

He felt as he had when they were children − now she too sought his closeness, the touch of his hand, the embrace of his arms at the most ordinary, prosaic things she shared with him every day.

At night, too, she was able to show him how great her longing for his closeness was, even though she had him at her fingertips − although he took care of her devotedly in the evening, he could feel her fingers trailing over his face, immersed in a deep sleep.

He purred then, involuntarily cuddling her warm, soft body into his, entwined with his legs. His breath grew heavier, his senses sharpened as he felt her full, soft lips place tentative, gentle kisses on his chest, his cock pulsed and quivered as her fingers traveled up and down it in slow, steady strokes.

"− my wife can't fall asleep? −" He whispered in a hoarse voice, grasping her plushy thigh with his hand, putting it around his waist, pulling her closer to him. She squirmed as his free hand gave her an encouraging, short smack on her buttock, his sweet punishment for rousing him from the peaceful, deep sleep he had only experienced at her side.

He softened this aggressive gesture by seeking her lips in the darkness, joining her in a warm, lazy kiss full of their tongues and sticky moisture, sighing contentedly as her small, delicate hand clamped down on his root, squeezing and rubbing it skilfully so as not to cause him pain.

It took her embarrassingly little time to make him completely hard and ready to possess her − he could feel that his own wetness was already dripping from the thick, pink head of his erection, proof of how delighted he was that his own wife craved him so desperately.

Had another woman been lying next to him, he would have felt cornered and humiliated, as if she wanted to deliberately deprive him of control and dominate him − with her, however, with his tender friend, with his sweet wife, he felt at peace, desired and assured.

A murmur escaped his lips as her fingers guided his long erection against the heat between her thighs − they both sighed as he pushed against her puffy, leaking slit with a soft thrust of his hips, feeling his heart pounding like mad, already fully awake despite hardly opening his eyes.

Her little cunt offered him slight resistance at first, moist and tight − he opened her wide at the thickest part of her length, drawing a sweet, girlish cry of exertion from her lips, her fingers clenched on his back, her breasts, her hard nipples pressed against his bare, sweaty chest.

They were so close with each other.

"− shhh − there you go −" He whispered, thrusting deep between her swollen, fleshy walls pulsing with desire, welcoming him home, as usual wonderfully warm, making him feel safe.

Nowhere was he so comfortable, nowhere could he find a more wonderful refuge than deep inside her.

He didn't have the strength to pretend in front of her any longer, recognising also that there was no reason to do so − he allowed himself to be more vocal than usual, his panting and groans low and filled with relief.

His hand clamped down on her plump buttock, spreading her thighs wider, pounding into her delicate flesh with loud splats of her wetness and his seed that he had filled her with the evening before.

"− uncle − so good − make love to me −" She mumbled innocently as if in a dream, kissing again and again his chest, his neck, trailing her fingers along his back, waist and buttocks making a wonderful hot shiver run through him − his achingly swollen cock expressed his contentment at her closeness and treatments as it twitched hard inside her, her walls sucking it and clamping down on it greedily, soaking him wet.

"− f-fuck −" He breathed out and groaned low with pleasure as her puffy, wet lips clamped around his nipple, her tongue swirling around it making a wave of tickling pleasure run down his lower abdomen, causing him to quicken his pace, pressing his face to the hollow of her neck, clutching her fragrant flesh to his.

"− mghmm −" She whimpered as he tightened his fingers on her breast, wanting to feel, as he usually did for a moment before reaching his peak, how perfectly it fitted the shape of his hand, in response to what she was doing pressing and teasing her nipple with his thumb.

He didn't know when his niece was shaken by a wave of pleasure − her fleshy walls squeezing his soaked cock were enough to make his spend fill her again with his loud sigh of delight that left him speechless.

He kissed her forehead, feeling fulfilled and at peace, his heart and body filled with a wonderful, hot emotion, his affection for her, his devotion, his care, his eternal desire that could not be satisfied.

He knew she felt the same.

They both breathed loudly, trying to calm themselves, stroking their naked bodies, sweaty from the sudden exertion. He murmured lowly as he felt her palms travel up his buttocks and rise higher along his waist making him feel goosebumps.

If Maris Baratheon had touched him in this way, he would have felt discomfort − he would have thought that such behaviour was unworthy of a lady or wife, and he would have pushed her away, frustrated and discouraged.

Yet it was his childhood friend hands that stroked and caressed his body, it was her lips that roamed his bare flesh, giving him pleasure and a sense that she desired him as much as he desired her, that his scar and what had happened to his eye had never crossed him out in her eyes as neither her husband nor her lover.

This realisation, her care and the warmth of her embrace calmed him.

He fell asleep again with his face snuggled into her hair, her naked body pressed against his, his soft erection deep inside her.

It didn't bother her − on the contrary, he got the impression that it wasn't just about fulfilment. She, like him, enjoyed the feeling of him being deep inside her, of feeling him, of them being one flesh.

Woman and man couldn't have been more connected.

The following nights that he spent at her side were filled with their intimacy and peaceful, deep sleep. He only awoke in the morning, struggling to tear himself away from her, assuring her that he would soon return to her by placing warm, lingering kisses on her bare shoulders and neck, before getting up to attend to his duties.

After what had happened he sent Aegon a letter, and it took several days for his reply to reach Harrenhal. As it turned out, according to his suspicions, their grandfather was still acting behind their backs, and Aegon decided to put an end to it by locking him in his chamber, allowing only his most trusted servants and guards to approach him.

Several people carrying information out of the Red Keep, which was apparently then passed on to Larys, lost their heads, and their deaths were a warning to others.

It was Aegon Targaryen, not Otto Hightower, who was King.

For now.

Baela chose not to leave Harrenhal, horrified by what had happened, clearly wanting to watch over his wife − her presence frustrated him, but he couldn't underestimate her contribution to her safety all the more so when he had other things to attend to and wanted to make sure his niece or their child was in no danger.

"− it's slowly becoming visible −" She whispered to herself, stroking her belly. He looked up at her from over the parchments, snapped out of his reverie and hummed under his breath, extending his hand to her. True to her words, as she approached him and he placed his hand on her lower abdomen, he felt it swell, though it was barely noticeable.

"− indeed −" He murmured, for some reason clearly pleased. He leaned down and nestled his face into her belly, sighing heavily, her hands enclosing him in a tender embrace.

They both shuddered and pulled away from each other, hearing a roar in the skies. He stood up, walking over to the window, seeing a black blur approaching towards Harrenhal, gliding between the clouds, however, he was unable to recognise who it was.

Only after a while did he recognise the familiar silhouette and sighed heavily, looking at his wife resentfully, as if it was her fault that her older brother had decided to fly to Harrenhal.

He, his wife and Baela came out to meet him. Jace was visibly upset, as he jumped down from his saddle he quickly ran to his sister and locked her in his embrace.

"− are you hurt? − I arrived as soon as we received the message − our mother is terrified −"

"− I'm well, brother −" She whispered and stroked his back. He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard his jealousy at the sight, looking away, clenching his hands folded behind his back into fists.

"− how could you let this happen? −" He heard his enraged voice pointed in his direction and looked at him warningly, hitting the wall of his cheek with his tongue.

His wife intervened, seeing the look on his face.

"− Jace − that's enough − in my condition I can't be upset −" She said impatiently, using this argument every time she wanted to shut down a discussion that was uncomfortable for her.

Her brother swallowed hard and nodded, trying to control himself.

"− mother sends me to personally make sure you are not in danger here −" He said finally, Baela snorted at his words, clearly offended.

"− I am here and I informed you about what happened − don't you trust me? −" She asked angrily − Jace looked at her, embarrassed that he had only just remembered her presence.

He thought with disapproval that he somehow felt sorry for his cousin.

He, though eyeless and with a long scar on his face, was the only one for his wife.

It had always been that way and he knew no other feeling.

How humiliating must it have been when your future husband forgot you existed?

It was only when thinking about it that he reminded himself what he had seen a few days earlier and looked away, grinning mockingly.

He had left the fortress to meet his spies who had come across Larys Strong's trail − it turned out that he had been staying at one of the inns and then moved on to another place, paying everyone lavishly for their silence.

He felt he had him at his fingertips, that he would soon crush his head.

By the time he returned, it was late evening. Walking towards his chamber, he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face, tired and discouraged, comforting himself with the thought that his niece was waiting for him in bed, soft, warm and wet, that he would sink deep between her thighs and find relief in her loving arms.

He did not understand how married couples could sleep in separate chambers.

He would go mad if his wife spent her nights in quarters other than his.

He stopped, snapped out of his reverie by hearing sounds he knew well − he furrowed his brow, thinking with rage that some guard had just fucked a servant girl in an empty chamber, instead of doing his duty and keeping an eye on his wife's safety.

He burst in like a thunderstorm, the loud moans, panting and slapping of skin against skin continuing for a moment before Baela's eyes lying under the broad, muscular man found his in the darkness.

Something akin to a squeal of fear broke from her lips, her palms tightening on the man's back as he turned over his shoulder and turned pale at the sight of him.

"− Y-Your Grace − I −"

He turned, shocked, and walked away, looking over his shoulder, hearing them both curse under their breath and snorted, a mocking smirk on his face.

So that's what it looked like, he thought with amusement.

For some reason, what he saw made him feel better − his wife was already asleep when he walked into their chamber. He watched her peaceful face as he undressed and lay down on top of her, her eyelids parted and her body trembled all over in fear that someone had touched her.

"− shhh −" He whispered, pressing her naked body against the bed − he was delighted to see that, in an involuntary, natural response, her thighs spread wide before him, her fingers snuggling him close.

"− yes −" She mumbled, still half asleep, and he forced his way deep into her hot interior with one quiet, slow thrust of his hips.

She moaned and sighed beneath him, delighted that he was sliding into her without haste, clearly more focused on feeling her well than on experiencing fulfilment as quickly as possible.

He had long since learned what it meant to truly enjoy her body.

He thought as he threw her legs over his shoulders, as he leaned down and locked her breasts between his fingers, listening to the way his cock opened her sweet cunt with the loud clicks of her wetness, that he had something that neither Baela nor Jace had.

He loved and was loved.

That realisation spread through his body like a warm, wonderful wave, his lips, swollen with desire, joined hers, her fingers tightened in his hair. He quickened his pace, slamming into her with ever louder moans of pleasure, knowing exactly what he was doing to her and what was about to happen.

"− n-no − no, it's fresh bedding −" She mumbled, simultaneously trying to push him away while he pulled her to himself, her puffy nipples rubbing against his chest with each of his rough pushes.

"− why the fuck should I care −" He sneered, thrusting into her again and again with deep, sticky thrusts of his fat erection, feeling her moist, hot walls squeeze it with pleasure against her pleas.

Her response to his brutal thrusts was her helpless, girlish cry, her lips parted in despair knowing what was coming, her slick cunt beginning to leak from her moisture making him slam into her with loud, sticky splats each time.

"− ah − mghmm − u-uncle −" She mewled, digging her fingers into the skin of his shoulders, tilting her head back, letting go at last, allowing what he wanted to happen to happen.

"− thaaat's it, theere we go − that's my girl −" He breathed out, reaching his peak inside her just as he felt the wave of her moisture run down her buttocks along with her fulfillment.

"− u-uh − no − it's all wet now −" She mumbled out, panting heavily, unsatisfied and unhappy.

"− your husband will take pity on you and let you sleep on his dry part of the bed − hm? −" He muttered with a grin, her hand slapping his chest with regret mixed with amusement.

"− you do it on purpose −"

"− indeed −" He hummed and turned on his side with her, looking with a smirk of satisfaction at the large, colourless stain that had formed where her buttocks had previously lain, tightly covering their bodies with thick furs.

Neither she nor their child could get cold.

"− sleep −" He commanded and snuggled her face into his neck, sighing contentedly.

He thought back to that night, watching as Jace walked up to his betrothed and embraced her, which she reciprocated.

He thought, looking at them, that they were pathetic.

94 notes · View notes

agi-ppangx · 6 hours

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relax (hwang hyunjin x fem!reader)

nerd!hyunjin x cheerleader!reader, secret relationship, heavy make out, suggestive at the end; 1.8k words

author’s note: alrighty so it may not be my best work, but i love love love the idea and i hope you’ll at least like it a little bit lol anyway enjoy and remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

06:47 PM

you: meet me in the locker room after the match

you: don’t be late~

hyunjin’s phone buzzed as he sat uncomfortably between other students in the stands, praying that the match wouldn't take too long. it was hot and crowded and hyunjin was wondering how people could go to matches every week or so and actually enjoy it. he didn’t want to be there, wishing to disappear or teleport to his room, but he knew he had to endure in order to see you. he missed you - not that he hadn’t seen you the same day in the hallway, but what good is it for him to see you if he couldn't even talk to you?

the loud sound of the whistle snapped him out of his reverie. the other students started cheering loudly, whistling and shouting when the match started and hyunjin didn’t know what to do - was he supposed to cheer as well? or maybe boo the opposing team? he was completely lost. in this whole confusion, hyunjin tried to find you on the pitch. he noticed a few other cheerleaders before the match, but there was no trace of you. what if you weren’t even performing that day and he was sitting there for nothing?

the cheerleaders started their chant as the first point was scored and it was only then when hyunjin stood up and finally noticed you. you looked ethereal - your hair bounced with every movement and the cheerleader outfit you were wearing made his head spin. he sighed dreamily - you were absolutely beautiful and he couldn’t get over how it was him who could kiss you and hold your hand and call you his. well, not entirely.

it was hyunjin’s idea to keep your relationship a secret. as he watched you in the hallway, always surrounded by handsome jocks and plenty of your cheerleader friends, he felt small, almost nonexistent. was he even worth being near you? he felt sick at the mere thought of people seeing you together and he didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends. did he feel good about the whole secret relationship thing though? absolutely not, but you assured him plenty of times that you’re willing to wait as long as he needed to finally reveal yourselves. he trusted you, so he just let himself enjoy the moment.

hyunjin adjusted his glasses as another point was scored. he was bouncing his leg nervously, waiting impatiently for the referee to announce the end of the match. it was getting late and hyunjin wasn’t satisfied with only looking at you from a distance - he needed to be closer.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

you breathed a sigh of relief when the match was over, smiling at the team and congratulating them.

“great job, boys,” you let out, trying to quickly head to the locker room. however, one of the players had a different plan and wrapped his arm around your waist. you stopped in your tracks, freezing uncomfortably.

“i’m hosting a party tonight, wanna come?” he asked, his lips too close to your ear for your liking. you smiled faintly, trying to break free from his grip.

“i’d love to, but i can’t tonight, sorry,” you said in an apologetic tone, but he didn’t seem to buy your lame excuse. he removed his hand anyway and ran to the rest of his team, leaving you alone without a word. the rest of your cheerleader team went with the boys as well, laughing at their jokes and drooling over their athletic bodies. you scoffed, but paid no further attention to it as you sprinted to the locker room to get there on time.

the room was dark when you entered it, a shiver going down your spine as you closed the door behind you. you hoped hyunjin didn’t forget or worse - didn’t change his mind.

from the very beginning you were completely infatuated by hyunjin, his talent for drawing and loser-like personality. he may have been clumsy and a bit scatterbrained, but it was exactly what made him, well, him. you tried to persuade him to let go and be open about your relationship, but he was adamant on keeping it secret. it made you a little sad, of course, but you accepted his decision regardless. in fact, if you thought about it, you kind of liked hiding in closets and stealing kisses when no one was looking.

a sudden tug on the doorknob brought you out of your thoughts. you opened the door and saw breathless hyunjin barely standing. you grabbed his shirt and dragged him inside, smiling sheepishly.

“what took you so long?” you whispered loudly, locking the door and scanning his figure. he raised his finger, taking a moment to regulate his breathing.

“i tried to avoid the crowd and, um… got lost,” hyunjin mumbled with rosy cheeks, nervously scratching the back of his neck. you giggled, taking a step in his direction and adjusting the crooked glasses on his nose. he brought his arms to your hips - a habit you taught him. he was staring at you with wide eyes and suddenly the air in the room thickened.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“you looked really pretty today. i kinda wanted to paint you,” he whispered with rosy cheeks, his gaze wandering back and forth between your eyes and your lips. you smiled at his words, feeling as your face got warmer. you were sure he was so gonna paint you after today.

“go on,” you said, your voice barely above the whisper. “i know you wanna kiss me.” hyunjin blinked a few times, his brain going haywire. although he had kissed you plenty of times before, usually it was you who initiated it, not him.

he leaned a bit closer, his breath speeding up as you placed your hand on his cheek. he hesitated when he felt your hot breath on his face, but one look from you dispelled his worries and he placed a sloppy kiss on your lips. his moves were uncoordinated, almost random, and you quickly started to get impatient, but decided to let him take control for now. he has to learn, you thought to yourself.

your hands wandered all over his chest and face as he slowly but gradually deepened the kiss, making your head spin a little. his grip on your hips tightened and you were going feral.

“hyune,” you breathed out, pointing to the shelf standing against the wall. even in his state he managed to drag you there and awkwardly helped you to sit on it. you brought your hand to his hair, tugging at it slightly and earning a quiet groan from him.

“shit,” hyunjin muttered as his glasses tilted on his nose again. he tried to fix them, but you grabbed his hand, bringing it to your neck instead.

“leave them be,” you said, parting your legs so hyunjin could stand closer to you. he yelped as you dragged him between them, the feeling of your thighs trapping him made his brain malfunction.

after what felt like eternity you broke the kiss to catch your breath. hyunjin’s cheeks were as red as a tomato and you laughed at his state. he looked drunk, his tilted glasses only added to the impression.

“what?” he asked dumbfounded, looking around.

“nothing, just-” you reached out to adjust his glasses. “there. you looked funny.” hyunjin pouted at your words and you smiled. you felt giddy when you looked at him and you never wanted the feeling to go away.

“but you told me to leave them like that…” you giggled at his reaction, a pleasant warmth spreading in your chest.

the comfortable silence settled between you two as hyunjin intently scanned your face, taking in every detail for the millionth time. your gaze wandered after his, his brown eyes observing your features like a curious child taking in the wonders of the world.

“who was that guy you talked to after the match?” he suddenly blurted out and it took you off guard. your face twisted in confusion as you tried to recall the situation. oh.

“it was one of the teammates. he hosted a party tonight and tried to persuade me to go,” you explained, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“oh,” he let out. “okay. do you… do you like him?”

“hyune, are you jealous?” he dropped his head - suddenly your shoes were way more interesting than your face. “hey, look at me,” you ordered him softly but firmly, placing a finger under his chin.

“sorry.”

you shook your head. “you have nothing to apologise for, okay? i’m sorry that it made you jealous.” hyunjin nodded at your words, a sudden wave of guilt overflowing his senses. “if it makes you feel better, he is a complete asshole. and i don’t like him,” you laughed and he smiled faintly, straightening his back. “now, where were we?”

you leaned forward and captured his lips in a passionate kiss, your tongue asking for entrance, which made hyunjin’s knees buck under him. he grabbed your shoulders, but you only ran your hand over his back in a soothing manner. though scared, hyunjin let your tongue in - it was sloppy and uncoordinated, because even if it was you who led the kiss, he still felt like a lost child in the wilderness.

“relax,” you mumbled into his mouth as you sensed his fear. i’m trying, he wanted to say, but he only let out a small whimper, dropping his arms to rest on your hips. with all his might he forced him to cool off. relax, hyunjin, he repeated in his head over and over again and he didn’t even notice when his tongue started to move with yours in unison.

“i missed you,” you suddenly uttered, breaking the kiss. hyunjin looked at you with wide eyes.

“really?” he asked and you giggled.

“of course, dummy. why are you surprised?” you tilted your head. “aren’t my kisses enough proof?” you teased, placing your hands on his chest. his heart was pounding, all because of you.

hyunjin shrugged his shoulders, his breathing speeding up. “no! no, it’s not that, i just… i dunno, i’m- i’m scared that this-” he moved his hand between your bodies. “-is just a dream. and i don’t wanna wake up.” oh. you looked him straight in the eyes.

“you know i’m serious when i say i like you, right?” you asked hesitantly, taking his hand in yours. it was sweaty from all the tension. you rubbed his palm with your thumb to calm him down.

hyunjin looked at you with a puzzled expression. “y-yeah, i know,” he said with a shaky voice. you placed a feather-like kiss to his cheek, then another one, going down to his jaw and neck, peppering him with soft pecks - a sealing of your words. he melted under your touch, his eyes wide open as he stared into the wall behind you, unable to move. “hey, you know what? i’m kinda hungry,” you said suddenly, bringing hyunjin back to you. he let out a small hm? and you spoke again with a smirk plastered on your face. “wanna eat some ramen with me?”

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz au #stray kids fluff #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #skz hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin hard thoughts #hyunjin hard hours

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wikiangela · 1 day

Text

I always had you

buck & maddie rating: G words: 1k summary: Buck always tried to show his mother love on Mother's Day - however, it was rarely appreciated.

[also on Ao3]

___

The first Mother’s Day Buck remembers, however vaguely, was when he was in first grade. Their teacher had them make cards for their moms, and little Evan was so excited to have something to give his mom. He doesn’t remember what his card looked like, but he remembers feeling so proud and excited about it, and showing it to Maddie when she picked him up from school, so they could take the bus together. He remembers Maddie smiling and complimenting him, and he was so excited. And he remembers giving the card to his mother… he remembers the haunted look in her eyes, tears welling up, the forced smile – he thinks she thanked him, but the memory is blurry. He tried to hug her, but she just got up and walked away. Evan was disappointed, maybe even sad, seeing his mom be sad, wondering what he did that was so upsetting. He always seemed to upset his parents.

He remembers going to Maddie’s room, crying in her arms as she tried to comfort him – he doesn’t know what she said, it was so long ago, but he does remember the comfort she’s always brought him.

Now, years later, he’s pretty sure his mom must’ve thrown the card away, knowing that his parents didn’t bother to keep anything from his childhood anyway. He’s just a reminder of a failure and loss.

If there’s one thing to be said about Evan Buckley is that he does not give up. So, even as a kid, he tried so hard to earn his parents’ love, to get their attention – usually by being reckless and hurting himself, he learned pretty early on that it was a foolproof way to get any sort of reaction. That’s why his mom’s reaction, or lack thereof, to that first card didn’t deter him. He was just a kid, he didn’t really get it then – now, reflecting back on it, he sees everything he didn’t then, or maybe tried not to.

So every year for Mother’s Day he brought a card from school. Then, when they stopped making them at school, he kept making them at home. When he was old enough and had some of his own money, he’d buy gifts. Something small, a chocolate, a flower, sometimes he’d get Maddie to pitch in so they could get something together. She always seemed apprehensive but indulged Buck anyway. Now Buck knows she was just trying to protect him, spare him the hurt – because each time their mom barely reacted to a gift, Buck’s heart was breaking a little. And the older he got, the less she tried to pretend to like it, and she never tried very hard in the first place.

He never got any sort of appreciation or warmth, or… or love. It’s all he ever wanted from his mother, from both his parents, but they were too consumed by grief, as he knows now, too cold, haunted, not even willing to try for their remaining children, for years and years.

Buck remembers the last time he got his mom a gift and decided he’s never doing that again. It was right before Maddie moved to Boston, he could’ve been around twelve. He made another card, just because he liked doing it, liked putting in the effort – and was met with his mother asking if he’s not too old for doodling. That’s what she called it. He was twelve. He was a twelve year old boy who only wanted love from his mom, some form of affection, a reassurance that he wasn’t a nuisance they just tolerated, like he felt so often. He never got it.

So, with angry tears in his eyes, he stormed out and went to Maddie. He gave her the card, just a simple, childish drawing of flowers and a ‘Happy Mother’s Day’, and she hugged him tight and said she loved it. He learned years later that she still has it now, kept with all the postcards he sent her. Maddie’s always been more of a parent to him anyway – and it’s such a bittersweet thought, because while he appreciates her so much, she shouldn’t’ve had to be. They both needed their parents, and instead were basically left alone. At least they had each other. He always had Maddie.

He didn’t wish Margaret a happy Mother’s Day again for years after that, and no one seemed to care, no one ever mentioned it. Sometimes it felt like she just didn’t want a reminder that she was his mother. It hurt, of course it did, and that, among many other things, left a permanent scar on Evan. He’s been healing, getting better, trying to fix whatever relationship with his parents he might still have, but that is always there, in the back of his mind, in his heart.

When Maddie became a mother – and after she came back, having gotten the help she needed – Buck got her a gift again, just a mug that says ‘best mom in the world’ (a reminder, that despite her struggling and doubting herself, she already raised one kid, and will do an even better job with her own) and a handmade card. He felt silly handing it to her, like a little kid again, but he had been doing arts and crafts with Christopher anyway so he decided to make something for his sister’s first Mother’s Day as a mom. So maybe it was silly and weird, and why would a grown man draw a card for his sister? But Maddie smiled widely and hugged him, and chuckled fondly when he promised he’ll teach his niece to make those, too. He can’t wait to watch her grow up, and to watch his sister be the best mom ever. And on every Mother’s Day from now on, he’ll make sure to celebrate her, the person who actually raised him, and helped mold him into who he is today with her endless kindness and patience and love.

His mother gets a text now, since they’re trying to fix things, and Buck never quits. But Maddie gets taken out to lunch, and gets gifts, and is celebrated by all the people she loves. Because she deserves it, and so much more.

___

[also on Ao3]

#the buckley siblings #wikiangela writes #my writing #911 fic #911 abc #evan buckley #maddie buckley #buckley siblings #buck & maddie #buckley siblings fic #why isn't there more tags for buckley siblings fics smh we need to write more of just them istg lol #I love Maddie sooo much <3 #911 fanfic #idk what this is i was in my feels about the buckley siblings lol

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solarmorrigan · 2 days

Note

69 + 27 for steddie :)

I got really stuck on this one for a bit, but it ended up being one of my favorites. Thank you for the prompt!

From the Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up list: 69. Flirting Under Fire + 27. Sick/Injured Fic

cw: canon-typical violence, mentions of injury

It’s a little bit like date night, really.

Like, in a twisted sort of way.

They get some time away from everyone else, they’re doing something together, they get to appreciate each other’s skills and competency – so what if the activity in question is patrolling Hawkins’ cracked and monster-infested streets? Times are tough, they take what they can get.

In any case, Steve has found he very much appreciates the chance to watch Eddie snipe demobats out of the sky, or take demodogs out with a well-aimed shot to what could dubiously be called the head (curly-haired brunets with guns; apparently Steve has a very specific type. Go figure). Eddie, in turn, has made no secret of how he enjoys seeing the power and strength in Steve’s swings when he takes on all manner of beasts with his trusty nailbat (Mark 2. Nailbat Mark 1 had unfortunately splintered some time ago, may it rest in peace).

And if they decide to go to bed immediately after showering off the muck and ash once they’ve gotten home, it’s because they’re tired from patrol. Obviously.

It’s possible, though, that they’ve gotten a little too complacent. They’ve had a string of easy patrols, picking off single demobeasts or taking out small groups with the ease that comes with practice. There haven’t been any surprises or mishaps, almost like the monsters have fallen into an easy pattern of their own.

Or maybe thinking like that is where Steve slips up.

Eddie whistles as Steve follows through on a swing that crushes the ribcage of the final demodog in the small pack, effectively taking it out of commission.

“Nice form, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve drawls, turning a warm smile on Eddie that takes any of the sting out of his teasing, “because you know so much about baseball.”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “Who’s talking about baseball?”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, still smiling. He’s never had someone lay it on so thick with him – he’s never had the blatant flirting and the silly nicknames and the entirely unsubtle once-over glances, and he kind of loves it. He loves Eddie, really, but even in the midst of a mini apocalypse, it’s probably too soon to go around declaring that.

Instead, he glances around at the monsters strewn on the ground, and then at his watch. It’s nearly midnight; they’ve been out for hours, and this is the only encounter they’ve had.

“Think we’re done for the night?” he asks

To his credit, Eddie does a quick check of the area before stepping in close to Steve. “I’m nowhere near done with you for the night, sweetheart,” he purrs, and a shiver runs down Steve’s spine.

“No?” he asks, gaze flicking down to see the way Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Nope. Let’s go home and I can show you what else I have in mind.”

Steve is so distracted by the idea, by the thoughts Eddie’s words conjure up, by Eddie himself, that he almost misses it – the movement right in the periphery of his vision.

Almost, but not quite.

As it is, he barely has time to bark out, “MOVE,” at Eddie and give him a hard shove, getting him out of harm’s way. He doesn’t have time to follow.

The pain of the demodog’s claws raking across his side is so sharp that it burns cold, and the force behind the blow winds Steve and knocks his bat from his hands. He can see it drawing back for another swing—it’s the one he thought he’d killed first with a solid blow to its gaping maw—but he can’t move, can’t force his body to cooperate, and he’s about to die–

The sharp report of Eddie’s shotgun rings out, and the demodog jerks. Its head is gone, black ooze splattered all over everything (probably up to and including Steve’s wound, Steve realizes with a shivery sort of distaste), and then Eddie is at Steve’s side.

“Shit, shit, baby, sit down, you look like you’re about to–” Even as Eddie’s saying it, Steve’s legs start to shake hard enough that they practically go out from under him, and Eddie just manages to catch him before his knees hit the pavement.

Looking back on it later, Steve really only remembers snatches of what happens next: using Steve’s jacket as a compress (it’s ruined anyway), Eddie speaking frantically into the walkie to call for a pickup, Eddie talking to him low and soothing until Hopper’s truck pulls up, Hopper’s many varied and colorful swears as he helps bundle Steve into the back. Steve definitely remembers that he passes out sometime around when they dump the heavy-duty, Upside Down-grade disinfectant over the slashes in his side, and he’s grateful he does.

Eddie is there, sitting by the bed when Steve wakes up, looking like he’s aged about ten years in the grey light of what could either be dawn or dusk.

“Hey,” Steve rasps, aiming a tiny smile at Eddie.

“Steve, what the fuck,” Eddie demands, and it only makes Steve’s smile grow.

It isn’t exactly the first thing he’d wanted to hear, but it’s a very Eddie thing to say all the same.

“Wasn’t gonna–” Steve breaks off with a hiss as he tries to sit up a little further against the headboard, and Eddie darts forward to help support him, to rearrange the pillows and get him a little more upright. “Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Steve–”

Actually, fuck ‘too soon.’ Fuck waiting.

“I love you,” Steve says, and Eddie falls silent.

Steve doesn’t regret saying it—he could never, he’s pretty sure—but Eddie is quiet just long enough for Steve to get nervous before he’s pressing forward and kissing Steve, hard and full and insistent.

“I love you, too,” Eddie murmurs, the words almost lost inside Steve’s mouth, like he can’t even wait long enough to get them out before taking another kiss. “Never do that again.”

Steve kisses back, matching the passion as well as he can with what little energy he has, and makes no such promise.

He loves Eddie, after all. He could never lie to him.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #they're in love and probably should not go out without a chaperone #but like. for safety reasons instead of propriety reasons #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous

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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 3 days

Text

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 5

You can read chapters one, two, three, and four here.

A/N: Not @ me pulling an all nighter to finish a protocol for uni and submitting it at 6 in the morning just 10 minutes before the deadline. Then proceeding to edit this chapter. This series in ruining my future, because all I did in the last two weeks is write 20 chapters! instead of the four protocols that I should've written on time. Anyways, enough about me. Y/n is fighting everyone in this chapter and saying hurtful things along the way.

Summary: Tension rises as Y/n only makes things harder for everyone around her. After moving into the Town House, she is attacked by the King’s soldiers.

Warnings: angst, slight violence, blood.

Word Count: 4.1 K.

Coming to check on Elain, much to Y/n’s surprise, she was not in her room. She paced towards the room where Nesta usually sat, only to hear her telling someone to get out. When she arrived she found Nesta and Feyre by the door and Elain and Lucien sitting in the room.

“I told you to keep him away from her” Y/n glared at Feyre, her voice tight with frustration.

“I came for a book” Lucien stated, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You don’t fool me, you one-eyed bastard. Get out!” she kept her voice steady, though a storm was building within her.

“She needs fresh air. Get her out of this house” he advised, and although he was right, Y/n barked “do not tell us what my sister needs. You don’t even know her”. In a moment of intense anger, a faint spark danced across her fingertips, the sensation lost amidst the turmoil of her emotions. She clenched her fists tightly, extinguishing the spark, the potential within her remaining hidden.

Feyre had come this morning to apologize for the previous night, but upon being seen in the same room as Elain and Lucien, it only made things worse.

“Y/n, I-”.

“Save it” she gave her sister a glare before storming out.

—

With no one around, Y/n felt cooped up and could not leave even if she wanted to. She decided to explore the rest of the house. Reaching the library, she felt something tighten around her chest. She was greeted by Clotho who wrote on a paper offering to assist her. She didn't even know why she was here, but then an idea came to her. She wrote back “do you have books about the anatomy and strong and weak points of the Fae?”.

“You want to learn about your body?”.

“Something like that”.

Clotho signaled one of the priestesses who led Y/n to the aisle about Fae anatomy a couple of floors below. She started reading out of curiosity but got sucked in. The tightening of her chest returned and she finally put the book down. She looked around, but no priestesses were in sight. She walked around the library when she saw a dark pit below. Something was drawing her closer, and she decided to investigate. She heard a faint voice ask “who walks here?”.

“Hello. Is there anyone here?”. No answer. She resumed her descent.

“Who dares disrupt my sleep?” the voice was louder.

“I-I did not know there was anyone here. I’m Y/n”.

“Ah, the one who’d been lost. I see you’ve been found”.

“What does that even mean? Who are you?”.

“You mean to say, what am I?”.

“You’re not Fae? Wh- where are you? How is it possible that your voice is everywhere?” Y/n was now going down carefully, as the lights began to fade.

“Fae?” the voice laughed “I’m much older, girl-”.

“Y/n, what in the Mother’s name are you doing here?” Cassian grabbed her wrist and led her upstairs.

“What the hell, prick? Let go of me!” but Cassian did not release her until they were in the upper part of the library, where it was safe.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” this was the first time she’s seen Cassian angry. His wings flared slightly, a sign of his agitation.

“What has gotten into you?”

“What has gotten into you?” he repeated “how can you just go down there? Do you know what lies beneath the library?”.

“No, I do not. No one has told me anything. In fact, this is the first time I’ve been to the library”.

“You stupid fool”.

“Mind your tongue, General”.

“Why did you even go down there?”.

“Because- I- I don’t know. Something was calling to me. I had this strange feeling and it led me there” she explained.

“If it ever calls to you again, do not answer. Do not go down there, do you understand me?”.

“I do not take orders from you, General. I’m not one of your soldiers that you can command”.

“Mother above, Y/n. Will you just listen for once?” Cassian sighed. He’d never dealth with such a stubborn and infuriating woman before.

“What is down there?”.

“A creature you do not want to face, trust me. Please, just stay away. I’m not commanding, I’m asking”.

“Alright, whatever. How did you even know I was here?”.

“I stayed behind to guard the city and you and Elain-”

“I don’t need guarding”.

“I know. When I came to the house, you weren’t there, so I had to check. When I got to the library, Clotho told me you were here. I did not think you’d do such a stupid thing, but when I came to find you you weren’t there. Only the book you were reading. Why are you studying our anatomy?”.

“I need to know everything about my enemies in order to defeat them”.

“Do you plan on killing me?” he chuckled.

“If you keep annoying me”.

“You’re lucky that I found you. You could have died”.

“Am I supposed to thank you? You don’t know that. Maybe whatever is down there just wanted to chat” she shrugged.

“Since when do you see the best in people?”.

“I don’t, but it is not a person, is it?”.

“Let’s just get out of here” he rolled his eyes.

“Where is everyone?”.

“Hewn city. If you agreed to help, you could’ve gone with them”.

“And see more of your kind? From what I heard, they’re even worse than you”.

“Much worse”.

“Then why would I ever want to go there?”.

“Fair point. But what about your powers, don’t you want to learn about them?”.

“You don’t know if I have any”.

“You are Cauldron-made. I-we believe that each of you has powers”.

“Power or no power, I’m not doing anything to help you”.

“Why not? You’d help save everyone”.

“You ask a lot of questions, General”.

“And you answer none”.

“I don’t owe you or anyone an answer”.

“Sorry, I asked… I have to go now, Rhys just informed me of their return. And please don’t go down again”.

“I won’t. Tell my sister and your brother to come here tomorrow, I have something to discuss with them”.

—

To Y/n’s surprise, not only Feyre and Rhys were in the living room the next morning, but also Cassian, Azriel and Nesta.

“Good morning” she greeted Nesta, and Nesta only. “How are your lessons going?” she took a seat next to her sister.

“I’m learning to shield myself. Yesterday was tiring” Nesta informed her.

“I want to go home” Y/n informed Feyre, who was taken aback, much like everyone else in the room.

“What? This is your home now” Feyre said.

“No, this is your home. I want to leave. I want to go back”.

“But you’re not human anymore” Feyre reminded “they won’t accept you there. It’s not safe”.

“I can glamour myself. And I can decide what risks I’m going to take myself”.

“You can’t glamour yourself forever”.

“Why do you care? I have made my decision. I want to leave” she persisted.

“Because you are my sister, and I want what is best for you”.

“And you think this is what’s best for me? To be locked up in here with nothing to do, surrounded by people I don’t like. I’m sorry that your human life was miserable, that you had to hunt for our family’s survival and just because you found a purpose here, just because you fit in, doesn’t mean we all have to. I had a life back then, a good one”.

“No one is locking you up. I told you, you can leave any time you wanted” Rhys reminded.

“How am I supposed to leave if no one is here to take me out? Or am I magically supposed to send a letter that would go wherever you are?”.

“You can call with your mind and I would send whoever is nearest to get you” Rhys explained.

“Nice trick, so you can enter my mind and read my thoughts? I’m not stupid”.

“I would never do such a thing, I give you my word”.

“You and your words that you can’t keep” she huffed.

“Y/n-” Feyre tried to diffuse the situation.

“I.want.to.leave”.

“It’s not safe. Not for you and not for your father. You have to think ab-”.

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you” her reply came with a huffed chuckle “where was all that talk when you came to us for help? Or did our safety not matter to you when your new family wanted help? Because from where I stand, everything that happened to us was because of a decision you made” Y/n’s voice grew quiet, almost hesitant, pain and disappointment evident in her tone. Y/n didn’t want to say these words aloud, knowing her sister felt guilty, nonetheless. But bottling up her feelings all this time backfired on her.

“Don’t blame Feyre for what happened to you. If you want someone to blame, blame the King of Hybern, blame me” Rhys defended.

“Oh, I do, and his turn will come. But she played a part in what happened, I begged her to take her business elsewhere... I played a part in what happened” her voice faltered “we all did. And you? You want to know why I hate you? You made a promise that you couldn’t keep. You and your brothers promised to protect my sisters and when they needed that protection, you were all helpless. I should’ve never trusted you or let you anywhere near them and I have no one but myself to blame. I knew of the danger your kind would bring us, but still I allowed it to happen and now my sisters are suffering and Elain lost her fiance. All because of one decision” tears were now filling up in her eyes, but no one dared to speak. They all partly blamed themselves for what happened to the sisters and now with her confession, they know she blamed them too. A reminder that they have failed her and her sisters.

“It’s not your fault. No one blames you” Nesta finally spoke, trying to comfort her older sister. This was the first time she saw her break. She was always composed, didn’t let anything or anyone get to her. A faint smile appeared on Y/n’s face before she wiped away the tear that slipped and composed herself. She wanted to say something but had no energy left in her to argue, so she only nodded.

“You are right, it would put my father in danger. I won’t make that mistake twice” Y/n admitted before silently walking out of the room.

—

“What’s going on?” Y/n stepped out of her room as she heard noise and movement coming from outside.

“We’re moving to Rhysand’s townhouse” Nesta informed her sister.

“Great! And when was this decision made?” Y/n sighed.

“Yesterday… after you left”.

“I see. Is it because-”.

“Elain needs fresh air and staying here won’t help anyone”.

“Right… Was anyone going to tell me or were they just going to drag me there?”.

“I was sent to inform you, since-”.

“Since I basically told them to piss off”.

“Something like that. Let’s go” Nesta led her sister upstairs where the Illyrians and their other sisters were waiting, in addition to the one-eyed ginger. Azriel was the only one who dared to offer to take Y/n. He was met with sympathetic looks from his brothers and Feyre.

To his surprise, Y/n did not object and took the hand he extended to her. This time she’d be calm and composed. She did not say anything during their flight and neither did he. Knowing how she felt about him- them, he could not face her, as guilt crept up on him. They were the first to arrive and when they reached the front door, he released his grip from her waist and opened the door. “Where’s my room?” was all she asked. He informed her and she nodded in thanks before leaving for her room.

—

The next day, a healer called Madja was sent to examine Elain. To see if something was wrong with her, but she found nothing. She informed the sisters that there was nothing wrong with her physically and that she cannot enter her mind, since apparently being Cauldron-made gave them immunity against anyone who tried peeking around in their minds. This made Y/n feel pressure lifted off her, seeing as now neither her sister or Rhys can ever read her mind without permission. Madja suggested that Lucien try, seeing as he was her mate, maybe he could sense something they couldn’t. Although Y/n hated the idea, she agreed for her sister’s sake.

“What the hell did you do to her?” Y/n yelled at Lucien as Elain stood from her seat startled by whatever he did.

“Nothing” he claimed and apologized to Elain. After a while, Nesta walked out of her lesson with Amren and took Elain to the garden, away from Lucien. He informed Feyre that he felt her, but as Y/n thought he could not sense what was wrong. Feyre assured him they could try another day before walking after her sisters to retrieve Nesta for Amren. Lucien was left standing alone with Y/n.

“Don’t even think about getting together with my sister” Y/n warned.

“She’s my mate” he reminded.

“I’m letting you near my sister, you one-eyed bastard. You have done enough damage. You might be able to fool the others, but you don’t fool me. I know the only reason you’re here is because Elain is your “mate”. If she wasn’t, you wouldn’t have cared, you would’ve stayed with that dumb fuck of a male, his existance is a waste of oxygen. And don’t think I’ll ever forget how when my Feyre was suffering, when your ‘friend’ locked her up, you did nothing. When you tried taking her back by force, after seeing how she suffered. When you stood by while that monster made a deal with the King to use his land to slaughter humans. When my sisters became what they are because of you and your friend’s stupidity. You couldn’t even be a good friend, and let him spiral out of control, let him become the villain that everyone hates. So, over my dead body would I let you have her, but I don't put it past you to kill me to get to her, knowing who you keep company. But at least if you kill me, Elain will see you for who you truly are” Y/n said coldly, only hatred in her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry about wh-”.

“You’re only sorry, because she happens to be your mate. Don’t waste your time with me, I will never forgive you” she walked slowly upstairs, knowing her words will leave a deep scar.

—

Y/n was on her bed reading, when two High Fae males appeared in her room. From the way they looked, Y/n knew they were the King's soldiers. She promptly jumped out of bed and shouted “Elain, get out of the house now! RUN”.

“Don’t worry, we’re not here for your sister. At least not that one” one of them smirked.

“Stay back!” she warned.

“Or what?” one of them blew out blue Faebane dust at her, rendering her magic, whatever it was useless “you can either come with us willingly and make it easy for everyone or you can try and fight back, but it won’t be fun, at least not for you” one of them laughed as he took his blade out.

“I think you know which one I’m sticking with” she gave them a smile, not letting them see her fear. As one tried to move towards her, she threw the lamp on her bedside table at him and jumped on the bed, hoping to reach the door. The other one was fast enough to yank her back by her braid, throwing her on the floor. “Is that all you’ve got?”.

“I’d say it’s not fair to fight an unarmed woman, but again when is it ever fair?” She managed to kick him in the balls before getting back up on her feet and opening the door. When she reached the stairs, one of them pushed her down, resulting in a few bruises and a sprained ankle, possibly a mild concussion as well, but surprisingly nothing more. She limped to the kitchen, in search of a sharp object she could use. The first thing she saw was a small knife, but it would have to suffice. “What do you think that knife is going to do?” a mocked laugh came from one of them as he slowly walked into the kitchen.

“That depends on your fighting style. It could be the eye, your throat or even land right between your eyes or legs. Who knows?” she shrugged “I’m not going down without a fight. The only way you’re taking me with you is if I’m dead”.

“The king needs you alive, but he said nothing about harming you” one of them lunged forwards but before he could reach her, Azriel ripped his throat with his bare hands, blood splattering all over Y/n’s face and nightgown. Before the other one could react, Azriel threw his blade, Truth-Teller at him, which landed in the middle of his face.

“I had it covered”.

“I’m sure you did. Are you alright?” Azriel scanned Y/n bodies for any injuries.

“I’m fine, but Elain-” she remembered as the adrenaline wore off.

“She’s fine. No one tried to attack her” his hands were on her shoulders, still scanning her.

“I’m fine, Shadowsinger. I just sprained my ankle” she reassured him.

“That is what’s worrying me. You fell down the stairs and only got a sprained ankle”.

“How do you know that I fell? And are you saying you’re disappointed I didn’t break my neck or get worse injuries?”.

“I- that’s not what I meant. Just forget it and I’m sorry about the mess and the blood” he gestured to the blood on her face.

“That’s the least of my worries” she chuckled.

Azriel had just finished getting rid of the bodies, while Y/n sat on the couch with an ice pouch applied to her ankle when Feyre, Nesta, Rhys and Cassian walked through the front door.

“You look like hell” Y/n said to her sisters.

“I could say the same to you” Nesta gestured to the blood still all over her and the messed up braid.

“You should see the other males” Y/n stood up and gave her sister a warm hug “I’m glad you’re alright” she took a step back and shifted her gaze to Feyre “both of you”.

The others arrived and gathered in the living room to plan for any future attacks. They informed Y/N why the King was after them and what had happened to the queen who jumped in the Cauldron after them, but still she couldn’t understand how that would happen, seeing as she went in after Nesta and nothing happened to her.

“Maybe it’s because you went in immediately after Nesta and the Cauldron did not realize she took something from it” Cassian suggested.

“But as I recall, you stayed much longer than Nesta and Elain” Rhys reminded.

“The ravens said that both of you stole something from the Cauldron. What did you take, Y/n?” Feyre asked.

“I don’t know. All I know is when I went under, I was full of rage and hatred and I wanted to destroy the Cauldron. Other than that, I don’t remember”.

Then, they went back to discussing the meeting with the High Lord and who had agreed to come and possible outcomes of the meetings.

“The queen might come” Elain said. They all wondered who she was talking about and she clarified it’s the one with feathers of flames. Everyone was confused except for Azriel, who came to the conclusion that Elain was a seer. They started asking Elain questions about this queen and then debated about going to find out more about her and maybe bring back an army when Lucien volunteered to go.

“I need a bath” Y/n sighed before standing up again and heading towards the stairs. Azriel rushed to help her, but she held out her arm, gesturing she could walk alone.

—

“I need to send this letter out” Y/n entered the living room, where the inner circle except for Feyre and Mor were sitting.

“Alright, Az will take you. I have some things to discuss with Amren” Rhys said. Azriel stood from his place and nodded in agreement.

“Where’s Feyre?” she questioned.

“Out with Mor. She’s showing her something”.

Y/n strode towards the door and Azriel followed behind.

“Don’t be late” Cassian quipped and Y/n lifted her hand up, showing him the middle finger before leaving.

“I’m sorry you got stuck with me” Azriel said.

“I suppose it’s alright. It was either you or the General and I’d take you any day over him”.

Azriel snorted “what’s the deal between you two?”.

“He’s a giant prick who loves annoying people”.

Azriel winnowed them out to the dispatch center and waited outside when Y/n hesitantly walked in. She had finally decided to send that letter to her father. She informed him of the war that is to come, of how she and her sister were transformed against their wills and that she now lives with Feyre. But she also lied, telling him she’s happy where she is and that he shouldn’t worry about her. That she’ll come visit him once the war is over.

“Is everything alright?” Azriel asked when she finally came out, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“Yes, it’s fine. Let’s just go”. With that he wrapped them in the shadows and winnowed out.

“Where are we?” Y/n noticed her surroundings were not something she was familiar with.

“We’re on a mountain”.

“No shit, that I figured”.

“I come here sometimes, when I’m feeling low” he confessed.

“Who says I’m feeling low?”.

“I’m not blind” he gave her a knowing look, his eyes narrowing slightly as if to say I can see right through your lie “you’ve been like this ever since this morning, especially after delivering that letter”.

“And what am I supposed to do here?” she crossed her arms.

“Take a break. Away from everyone. You can see Velaris from here. It brings me peace whenever I come here. I thought it could do that to you too”.

“I appreciate the thought, but peace is not something I will experience any time soon”.

“Then just take a break for a moment to breathe, unless you prefer going back and enduring Cassian” he joked.

“Fine…so what am I supposed to do exactly? Look down at the city and enjoy the view?”.

“If you want. Whatever makes you feel better” he sat on a rock, his arms crossed.

Y/n stepped towards the edge and looked over for a few minutes before speaking “it’s hard to do anything when you’re sitting behind me watching like a hawk”.

“Would you prefer it if I left? I can give you however much time you need and then come back to get you” he offered.

“No. Just- if you’re going to show me a city, show it to me at night or dawn. Everything looks more enchanting at these times”.

“Duly noted”.

“We can leave now, I feel a bit better”.

—

Y/n was knitting in the living room, a new hobby she’s picked up, when Amren walked in, informing everyone that Hybern had attacked the Summer Court. The inner circle were discussing strategies and exchanging information about what to do next, when Rhys decided they were going to aid the Summer Court.

Azriel and Cassian were preparing for war, checking their blades and tapping the siphons atop their hand, spreading their scaled armor across their body. Their expressions cold and devoid of emotions. Although Y/n had seen him- them in their full armor before, she never witnessed them preparing for a fight or a war. The sight of them made her heart skip a beat. Was that worry she felt? She did not know. She stood from her place to say something, but they were gone before she could. Nesta questioned if Mor and Feyre were going to fight and Feyre informed her that they would if needed.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever @stained-glass-eyes0708 @aehllitas-blog @nebarious

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artymcart · 5 hours

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After @xfancyfranart prompted to make our Photos about the Purgatory Miami comment from Garth, I had the idea to make it a theme for my art 🤣💖

The autographs are always my favorite part and I'm getting more and more braver to talk with the actors. And boy they made it easy this year (all but Misha but I won't say anything about this anymore, since people seem to think he's a saint 🙃).

I first went to Ty & DJ and they really took a closer look, they loved the idea and I had to show them the others 🤣

Mark also loved his look and asked me about Crowleys tie, I reminded him that HE SAID that Crowley is pansexual, he then reminded me that he can't even remember what he ate last night lol

Then I went to Jared and he was included into my ticket but I wasn't in the mood to draw him something and then I remembered that I wanted this one to get signed.

I asked his PA if it's okay, if not I had a backup with me and she just looked at me amused and said "Oh no! This is fine!"

Jared took a look a this and pointed at Ruby and said "That's my wife!". It was kinda cute lol

Aaaaand then Jensen. Since I had asked him in the M&G about fan art and stuff I was way more relaxed to give this to him. He laughed about the Purgatory Miami thing, said he loved this and I told him it's a theme. He asked for the others, I showed him and he said he likes the one for Mark better 😭 "It's cooler!".

Yeah and Misha, let's just say it wasn't his best day and I was just too emotional to just let it go and not to be disappointed.

BUT I showed my art, I had fun, Jensen was way more important to me in this situation.

AND I MET @deancrowleycas IN THE LINE!

Omg I walked around the whole day and kept an eye open and then we met in the most hectic and random situation ever 😭😭😭💖 I hope you had a good time!

#supernatural #spn fanart #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #crowley #sam winchester #garth fitzgerald iv #benny lafitte #purgatory 8 #con art

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elliesspacewalker · 3 days

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High school Ellie hc's

Warnings: like none, possibly one suggestive theme but otherwise it's sfw

. Ellie in high school was definitely a little ratbag, we all know this... I feel she's the rebellious one in the classroom and listens to music and keeps her hood on in class (oh wow, breaking the rules there Eleanor)

. I can just imagine Ellie playing rugby like a beast and making friends with almost everyone on the team like, Abby, Jordon, Jesse and Manny.. she'd act tough but she's definitely got a sensitive soul...

. Ellie definitely loves listening to the gossip and all that, she would literally spend HOURS just listening to you rant on about a cheerleader you hated

"yeah and then she said this" you pull out your phone to show her a message the cheerleader said about you "that bitch" she chuckled out "could be worse"

"yeah but-" she looks at you "but what?" She teases "you're hopeless!" You shove her playfully.

. Ellie is definitely A LOT smarter than she makes herself out to be, you can hear her rant on about some stuff that isn't even taught in high school.

"Ellie you're a lot smarter than you make yourself out to be" you'd mumble while eating a pizza "no" her reply was quick "c'mon don't give me that shit"

"m'not that smart" she grabs a pizza slice before stuffing it in her mouth like a gremlin.

. Ellie DEFINITELY loves playing the guitar we all know this, but she was shy at first and refused to show anybody her work including you.

"Ellie please! We wanna hear!" Dina says, holding up the guitar near Ellie's hands "but"

"dude c'mon, we've all done something here we didn't wanna do at least once, like Abby hated drawing and look at her now"

"hey! That was private!" She says in a teasing matter. "C'mon Ellie please" Jordon says and she sighs before agreeing to play, it shocked all of you when she started to play, it was amazing and you didn't know how talented she was.

. She's definitely dirty minded... I'm sorry but she is, I can just imagine in high school you yell out to someone saying "IM COMING!" and she just gives you this look before Dina says "Ellie don't even"

"whaaat I didn't even say anything"

"we all know what you're thinking" Jordon says, grabbing a rugby ball and throwing it at her (which she catches by the way)

. Ellie definitely gets the most random job, you didn't even know she was working and you pull up to star bucks "Ellie?"

"oh... hey" she scratches the back of her neck "the usual?" Ellie always made your drinks at home so she knew what you liked, you nod and pay for the drink.

A/n, didn't know what to write but here!!!

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #transgender ellie #trans!ellie #ellie tlou #jesse tlou #dina woodward

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jimblejamblewritings · 23 hours

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love letters and second sons | part 4.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes)

Warnings for this part: smut

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

The cloak wrapped around you felt like velvet. The softness between your fingers calmed you down significantly. Reynolds grabbed your hand after the fifth time you balled it up in your skirts. You looked up to see your three valets trying to hide the concern on their faces. You could have an incident or get caught or both. None of those three options were ideal or even good.

“Do I look decent?” you asked as the carriage got closer and closer to the party.

“You look perfect.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t wear the mask?”

“You don’t have to but keep it on you.”

You agreed, exiting the carriage with a letter from the princess version of you — complete with a wax seal — that was basically a pass to enter any establishment no matter what. Spotting Penelope and Colin out of the corner of your eye, you breathed out a sigh of relief and ran over to them. Both of them wore wide smiles at your surprise arrival. They had been expecting a letter or something to signal your arrival back from Ireland.

You were sad to hear about Marina not joining you all for this evening. It would have been nice to know her more than a little bit in between the courting of suitors. But there would be more times to meet and catch up later. Plus, hearing your friends’ stories of their daily lives proved to be a good enough distraction. You let them go after a while so Colin could escort Penelope to the dance floor like he promised to do after a run in with Cressida Cowper.

Looking around, you failed to immediately locate the rest of the Bridgerton children. You grabbed a drink from the lemonade table and began to wander. The alcohol had looked appealing but you had never drank, afraid of the consequences if drink mixed with your illness. Someday you’d try some but not after an episode. Never right after one.

On the outskirts of the party, still close enough to hear the music, you ran into Benedict. He gave you a smile and the same surprised look on his face as Penelope and Colin. You leaned in closer to hear him over the deafening melodies of the orchestra. Small talk that was mainly about your fictitious trip made up the first half of your conversation. After a while, you grew comfortable with each other as if you never left.

“The lights are beautiful,” he commented, staring at the small lantern display that a scientist presented.

You nodded. “We have some at the palace. They add more day by day but it would be nice if all of London, maybe all of the world, had these little lights. How has your art been?”

“Not terribly well. Nothing seems to be good enough.”

“Well, what are you drawing?”

“Still life. I can’t expect my free drawings to be good if I can’t depict what is right in front of me.”

“You are too hard on yourself, Benedict seriously,” you argued when he scoffed. “Sometimes we have a problem seeing our own greatness. You ju—”

“Would you ever consider marriage to someone, me, perhaps?”

You choked on your lemonade. “Pardon?”

“Apologies.” He finally turned to look at you. “With Daphne out in society, people have started looking at Anthony and because my dear brother does not care to at least pretend to be a proper viscount, they have started to look at me. Ravenous mamas are eyeing me and it must be a matter of time before they talk to me.”

You laughed. “You still call me Miss Keaton yet you want me to help you through a marriage?”

“Wait, what is your name, actually? If you are to continue being a friend of the family then I am at liberty to refer to you by first name.”

“Bergamot. My parents were a bit too keen on gardens.”

“That is a lovely name.”

“Thank you… I still won’t marry you.”

Benedict scrunched up his face as he bent over to try and plead with you. “Please! I can’t be out here with the wolves.”

You patted him on the shoulder. “Your whining, no matter how pathetic and cute, will not work. I will see you tomorrow, alright.”

He muttered something that you didn’t hear while you took off into the gardens for a stroll. You’d have to leave soon, pressing your luck wasn’t the way to go. You put your cloak back on and closed it to hide your dress completely as you finally put your mask on. The gardens at night were very beautiful. Perhaps because you were alone.

You chuckled at the thought of your interaction with Benedict. Even if it happened only a few moments ago, it was hysterical. It was only funnier because you were sure that when you finally introduced yourself to society, you’d get even stranger proposals. Only they wouldn’t be to avoid hungry mamas. And they wouldn’t be coming from one of your friends.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too upset with you. Hyacinth would never but she was more like a little sister than a friend. Benedict would think the whole situation is funny, hopefully. Daphne might as well. Eloise and Penelope could go either way. Anthony would probably be mad that you let him attempt to woo the princess when you knew the truth which would make Colin and Gregory and Francesca mad at you as well. But maybe it would be fine after you explained everything.

The sound of voices caught your attention. Spying was wrong but you couldn’t help yourself. You started to walk into the hedges, ignoring the twigs catching everywhere. The view wasn’t the best but you could see well enough. What could be a scandal between Daphne Bridgerton and Nigel Berbrooke seemed to be a very different scene to you because you knew the man from her letters. You tightened the mask around you just in case you needed to leave the bushes.

Nigel kept coming close to Daphne. You began to run when he grabbed her, thinking of how to protect your friend. You’d have to hit him. That was the only option. There was nothing else you could do about it… You paused as Daphne pulled her hand back. There was Nigel Berbrooke on the ground. After being punched.

You and Daphne looked up from Nigel to see the Duke of Hastings running into the garden clearing as well. The two of them seemed to realize that you were the princess and you were in the garden with them having witnessed everything. They bowed to you deeply, something you returned.

“I will survey the area. If I do not return then you two may safely leave the garden.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“It is no trouble really. I am so sorry for your distress, Miss Bridgerton, and I do hope your hand feels better in the morning.”

You did a thorough check of the area to make sure that Daphne wasn’t compromised before fleeing to your carriage before anyone could spot the mask. Assuring your valets nothing went wrong, you closed the carriage door and let it drive back to Kew.

“Thank you,” you said as you took off your mask and cloak and opened the carriage window since it was night.

“For what?”

“For making me go out tonight. I did need it. I feel better, immensely.”

“That is good. We are glad to hear it. Will you be going out again tomorrow?”

“Just to the Bridgertons.”

“Oh, to home then.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue because they were right. Being at the Bridgertons felt like home more than your own at times. Maybe because your mother and father were the only ones who even tried to be a proper family. But there was no trying with the Bridgertons. They just were family.

That much was true when you walked into the house a lot later than the early morning to see everyone but Eloise in the drawing room, talking about Daphne and the Duke. You said hello, greeted by hugs from everyone who didn’t see you yesterday. You took the plate of toast from Violet, who was trying to get her daughter to eat, and shoved the bread under Daphne’s nose. She took a bite before actually grabbing it from you. Relieved of your mother bird duties, you plopped down on the couch in between Benedict and Colin.

“What are your plans for today?”

“Fencing and then a gentlemen’s club and then preparing for a party tomorrow and, dreadfully, a picnic the next day,” Colin said as he handed you a chocolate from the box on the side table.

“May I watch?”

“Of course. A beautiful lady will only encourage us.”

“Since when did you learn to be a flirt?”

He just shrugged, sitting back to listen to Daphne play the pianoforte and tease her about the duke. You clapped at the end of her piece and requested a second one that she obliged. Daphne would have to play at the palace some time or at least at Kew. She sounded lovely. Closing your eyes, you just listened for a moment.

“How does a lady come to be with child?”

Your eyes flew open to see Eloise standing in front of everyone. Violet jumped up from her brief moment of sitting on the couch across from you.

“Eloise, what a question!”

“I thought marriage was a requirement.”

Daphne tilted her head. “What?”

“Apparently, it’s not even a requirement.”

“Eloise.”

“Mama, the princess did say all young women nearing their debut should learn.”

Violet stuttered as she took the tray of food out of the room, forcing Hyacinth and Gregory to go with her, stating she’d be back in a moment she just needed some water. She turned back for a moment.

“Daphne, dear, do go on. I’d like to hear some calming music when we return.”

Eloise trudged over to the couch, sitting on the other side of Benedict. She smacked her brothers’ knees but neither one of them wanted to answer her directly. Colin turned his head.

“Have you ever visited a farm, El?”

You laughed as Benedict smacked the back of Colin’s head but stopped when Eloise slumped down in her seat. You tapped her on the shoulder, making her perk up again. Your hand rested on Benedict’s thigh so you could prop yourself up as you leaned over him.

Covering your mouth and Eloise’s ear, you began whispering to your friend everything you thought she needed to know about sex. Unable to help himself, Benedict leaned in to spy, surprised that your information was actually correct. You weren’t lying, the Princess’ court really taught all the valets everything. Eloise sat back, finally satisfied and a lot less worried about a spontaneous pregnancy. Until she became curious again.

“But why would anyone want to initiate it? Who wants to be with child?”

You leaned over once again. “No one wants to be with child. Even those who want children. It’s about the pleasure. Sometimes the pleasure of actually liking someone and other times the pleasure being about nothing but you.”

“What?”

“The… think about when you start breathing a bit heavier, feeling warm when you touch each other, a… I’ll tell you the rest when your brothers aren’t here. It is a bit awkward. Oh, I’ll even draw you pictures. Only a certain amount of posit— mov— steps are important. The rest you should figure out with your husband.”

“So you do truly know what you’re talking about?” Benedict interrupted the nearly finished meeting.

“Did you doubt me?”

“A bit,” he admitted.

You sat back down. “Men aren’t the only ones that know what they are talking about.”

“Sorry to offend.”

“No offense. None at all. I expect even the kindest and smartest and prudest of men to think such things.”

“Well, I am still sorry. If not because of offense then because of my ignorance.”

You squeezed his thigh in appreciation. Benedict laid his hand on top of yours. The two of you stayed like that for a moment until his hand held onto yours a bit tighter. He turned to look at you. There was an understanding shared between your eyes. There was no breathing heavy or loving eyes. It was for both of you but in purely selfish pleasurable ways.

“Are you coming to watch our fencing match?” Benedict asked.

“Yes.” At that he moved your hand closer to his private. “A bit after the calling hour starts. I like to watch the men make fools of themselves.”

“I am not surprised by that at all.”

“Shall we wait for you?”

You closed the gap and placed your hand over the top of Benedict’s pants. “No. You may start without me and I’ll just come when I find the time.”

“Okay. We’ll play again soon, maybe even another game today. So don’t be too bothered if you miss us playing for your calling hour.”

Giving an experimental squeeze, you watched the man next to you nod ever so slightly and swallow his spit before moving your hand himself. You both relaxed into the couch completely, satisfied with your understanding. The two men left when Violet came back — it was fairly obvious that calling hour was about to start. The calling hour was several hours but at some point you had just dropped the s and you weren’t sure why.

You thought it would be only one or two men but the duke seemed to have lit a fire under the other men’s feet. The line became rather long rather quickly. You were happy for Daphne. The more men the better. Maybe she could get a love match.

You took the last bouquet of flowers for Daphne, thanked Lord Colfield, and went to go put the flowers in a vase on the fireplace mantle. You were about to tell Daphne that you were leaving to see her brothers’ fencing match when Anthony came storming in. A gasp escaped you when Nigel Berbrooke came up behind. You were completely over this little man and his obsession.

Without thinking, you approached Anthony. “What do you think you ar— Anthony, you and Nigel need to either leave the drawing room as this is your sister’s calling hour or wait in line if he is here to call? These lords and gentlemen have waited a great deal to talk to her and they are very patient. It is not right nor just nor of any class to disrespect the patience they have shown.”

“Nigel?” Berbrooke scoffed. “Who do think yo—”

“The Young Princess’ valet. She’s become a family friend,” Anthony cut Nigel off.

At least Berbrooke had the decency to be surprised and then give you a bow. Their tunes towards you changed completely as they almost looked like they were going to wait their turn or just leave. Nigel smiled.

“Callers were unexpected as we have already been talking extensively.”

“Lord Berbrooke is the only man who proposed and therefore the only person I consider.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You looked at Anthony.

“He is the on—”

“Everyone! I am very sorry but you must leave. Miss Bridgerton’s calling hour is currently closed. Please leave your name with Heroldt, starting with the order you have been waiting, and two days from now we will continue.” You turned to Anthony as everyone filed out without complaint since they thought the princess was the reason for calling hour being over. “There. Now, Lord Berbrooke, I must speak with the Bridgertons alone. I hope that speech staved off the wolves for you if only for two days while matters are discussed.”

“Thank you, Lady…”

“Miss Keaton,” Anthony answered. “Thank you, Bergamot. Lord Berbrooke, do you need me to escort you?”

“No, no. You have business. I can find the front door on my own.”

The moment he left, you, Daphne, and Violet descended on Anthony. Every word that came out of Anthony’s mouth made you scoff. Violet looked between all three of you, very upset. Anthony was ruining both Daphne’s prospects as well as his own prospects with the princess. And you were there to witness it all.

You backed Daphne on everything. Even if she was wrong, Nigel was a foul man that you would never allow to marry. You approached Anthony, speaking lowly although your friend and her mother could still hear it.

“I hope you survive whatever poison you are drinking. Whether the Duke is a serious man or not, there are plenty of serious men here. You will not sign away your sister to such a foul man that you barely know as well and pretend it is in her best interest. And you will not expect her to be understanding or appreciative when you don’t care an ounce for your sister’s happiness. And you still wish to draw up a marriage contract? Please, just think for a moment… Good day, Viscount Bridgerton.”

You stormed out of the drawing room and straight into the backyard where Colin and Benedict were handing their fencing gear back to a servant. They noticed the furrow in your brow. Benedict clicked his tongue.

“I will find out what is wrong. You, brother, instruct the kitchen to leave something out for us. If there is crying then we will be long.”

Benedict practically dragged you to the far side of the backyard. He knew no one would think anything of it when you were very angry about something Anthony did — that part was loud enough for everyone to hear. He looked at you when the two of you finally stopped.

“Was that a ploy to get away? Or are you genuinely mad at my brother?”

“I don’t want to talk about why I’m mad at Anthony. There’s nothing you can do anyway. Not without a good scandal… Sorry, I came out here for a fencing match. Let us focus on it. On you.”

He took your hand again, placing it over his trousers. You began to rub it back and forth, the fabric between you guys creating friction. You reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, stroking it a bit more freely. Benedict pulled you closer. His hand reached around your ass to squeeze it.

Every time you stroked him closer to finishing he would squeeze harder than before. You watched his face the entire time. If you got back exactly what you were giving him then you would be a very happy woman. It was truly going to be about selfish pleasure for both of you.

You gasped when he all but ripped the top part of the dress as he tried to push it all down to expose your breasts. He wanted something else to stare at that would get him off even quicker. You tried to stifle any moans threatening to escape your lips as he groped you — some of the marks so hard you were sure they would be a bit red until tomorrow. This was his turn. Yours would be later. If you both tried to get pleasure at the same time... Well, that's how people fall in love. The two of you weren't stupid to test that.

Benedict moaned and for a moment both of you were worried someone would come see what was the matter. He laughed underneath your hand covering his mouth.

A shudder went through him and he grabbed your wrist. “I’m going to come. I-if you let g-go… just in m-my britches.”

You dropped to your knees, shocking your friend. He grabbed your head with one hand while he bit down on the other until he finished. A very gentle touch lifted you up. He wiped stray bits of lipstick from around your mouth, wiping the evidence away on the inside of his vest.

“I have to say I did not expect you to sit down for the last round of fencing. We were done anyway.”

“Well, I wanted to help put up the equipment so we could all relax later. Plus, if the princess does choose to invite you all to Kew then I would like you to help put up the equipment there too.”

Benedict laughed.

“I promise whether I win or lose. The next time we have a round of fencing, I will put up the equipment. All of it.”

He leaned down to whisper.

“Even if you are not a lover, I would never have you on the ground, sullying your pretty gowns and body..." He squeezed your breasts one last time before helping pull your dress back up. "with grass and dirt stains. I promise I’ll bring you your pleasure next time we are inside and alone. I will leave first and retire to my room. You stay out here and eat the sandwiches the cook left. I won’t be able to return for at least an hour.”

“Okay. I have to go see the Featheringtons and Miss Thompson anyway.”

You did just as Benedict suggested and no one even gave you a suspicious look. You took your own sweet time going across the street. You had moved the physician and all of Wednesdays special tutors to Tuesdays so you would have more time in the city. Despite not wanting any visitors, you were the obvious exception and could go upstairs to see Marina. She looked up from her writing desk when Penelope announced she was coming with a visitor.

The three of you gathered on the bed to share a plate of sweets. You mainly listened to Marina and Penelope, not having much to add. You wanted to figure out a way to help her. Trying to meddle in daily affairs and save the lives of one subject at a time seemed almost ridiculous. But, that was what you should do as a royal.

“Did you say Spain?”

“Yes. That’s where all of George’s letters are coming from at the moment. They all say Spain.”

“If you ever need a letter to Spain or to anywhere else they send Sir George, just let me know. The princess wants to help her subjects, especially women, so give me a letter and I’ll give it to her. Whenever you need.”

Marina flung herself at you. “Thank you. If there shall ever be a problem, I promise I will say such.”

“Oh, the princess is going back to the palace for a few weeks because of something important so I won’t be so available for a little bit.”

“What will she be there for?”

“You will find out when it happens.”

The two of them giggled. “You are so mysterious.”

You were tired after an exhausting day but a letter you received from a footman that same day made you get up. Anthony had given you a key to the front and back garden gates as well as the back door that led into the kitchen. You entered through the backyard so you could actually get inside the house without waking the entire house with your knocking. You only needed Violet and Daphne. And you had a letter to leave just in case you couldn’t wake a single person.

Voices made you pause. You recognized Eloise and Benedict talking. Instead of going any further, you just listened. Eloise — like so many other women — wanted better for herself. It had never been a question of something you would plead to your brother… You sighed. You knew your brother. It was time to stop thinking of him as the heir. There was a reason everyone was going to support Younger Charlotte’s claim over her father. And Young Charlotte listened to you. She planned on making you her advisor. There would be no pleading. You would make better laws for women.

You didn’t want to disturb them too much so you flung the letter at Benedict’s head. Running as fast as you could, you ignored their confused calling out for you once they recognized the letter coming from the princess. Hopefully, Benedict or Eloise would get the letter to their mother before Nigel could come back.

Dear Dowager Viscountess,

I am nothing but my mother’s daughter and therefore it is, in fact, my job to meddle in the lives of our precious subjects for a better and more peaceful United Kingdom. Miss Keaton has told me much of your troubles in regards to a man called Lord Nigel Berbrooke. I don’t have much information on him but I do have a request that I would ask you to aid your princess in.

I recall an acquaintance of his. A maid. She used to work at the palace but asked for a job in the ton so she could be closer to her aging parents. I believe she was employed by a neighbor of the Berbrookes? Or a friend? Or maybe them, who knows. She was supposed to come back two years after they died but has yet to return. Nigel or one of his neighbors must know. Or perhaps, his mother, she’s very close to the maids. Knows every single one of them by name. I care terribly for this maid and would like her working back at the palace.

Please meet with his mother. She loves crumpets with any sort of preserves or a chocolate dipping sauce. It was all she wanted when she requested a meeting with my second brother.

That is all I have to say. I do look forward to seeing your family properly.

Yours Truly,

Princess Y/N Kew

P.S. Please tell Anthony that it took him long enough but I am proud he finally came to his senses. If only he can learn to listen to a woman first then he might have less problems.

You smiled to yourself as you sat in the kitchens. The staff couldn’t stop talking about Nigel Berbrooke’s bastard that he doesn’t take care of and the mother he sent away before she even gave birth. You would feel bad but you had a very personal and up-close view of the man’s real personality. The morning only got better when Brimsley and Reynolds came in with Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers. It was on the front page of the pamphlets. Absolutely worth paying the two pounds per pamphlet for everyone in the Kew household.

“Do you think he’ll ever show his face again?”

“No,” the cook said as she handed you your breakfast. “You did a good thing for Miss Bridgerton, Your Grace.”

“Your Grace?”

“It is just a title we are trying out.”

You hummed suspiciously. The cook ignored you.

“You better pack if you don’t want to be late for the carriage coming today.”

You nearly forgot. The reason you couldn’t hang out with the Featheringtons and the Bridgertons arrived. Your cousin Friedrich, the prince of Prussia, was coming for a visit. He agreed to marry a British girl to strengthen the alliances and prove that Prussia and Britain were still close family. It was neither a complete truth or a complete lie. The entire family was not close. But you, your cousin, your father, your mother, and your aunt were very close.

Sneaking out wasn’t an option. You thought that much as the carriage neared Buckingham. It had been a while since you snuck out the palace — a completely different thing from simply leaving Kew. Pandora, Brimsley, or Reynolds would sneak you your letters and you would be satisfied. Besides, even though your family was coming for an indefinite amount of time, you only had to stay a week or to.

The carriage hadn’t even stopped completely before you ran to hug your cousin. It had been years since you last saw each other. You could hear your mothers laughing in the background. They left to have tea inside while the two of you stayed out.

Friedrich took your hand in the crook of his arm. “Come, cousin, let us take a promenade. Have you been well?”

“I have been better. However, I am doing well.”

“And your illness?”

“Not better. But I haven’t had an episode that I couldn't recover from on my own.”

“That is good. I suppose that is the best we can ask for. Especially since I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“I asked Aunt Charlotte and she agreed to let the princess accompany me to events as she knows the ton better than the both of us. You have to wear your mask but it is still a good deal.”

“It is a wonderful deal.”

“Good. The first event is a ball tonight.”

“Tonight?! But I’m not prepared.”

“I’ve already had everything arranged.”

“You planned this?”

“I figured it would do you good to get some fresh air and get out of the palace… or Kew, now.”

“Thank you, Friedrich. Seriously, thank you.”

(part 5)

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