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enkas-illusion · 5 months

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(Not) Just Another Crush - Part 1/2

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, fluff, A LOT of fluff, slow burn, kissing, language, slight make out, emotional edging of sorts (it will make sense)

Chapter Summary: Instead of pining over the mystery man at your gym from a distance, you decide to take matters into your own hands and talk to the guy. And you find out that Eren Jaeger, as it turns out, is akin to a man written by a woman.

Author's notes: Hello, here’s a meet-cute type of thing for gym bro Eren cause ~I need a big boy, gimme a big boy, gimme a big big boy~; this is a 2-part story so the chapters are super lengthy. Hope you enjoy it – feel free to like, reblog or comment! Thank you for reading!

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Crush by Cigarettes After Sex

Part 1 | Part 2

To the unassuming eyes, it may look like just two people interacting – but to the ones who knew, you and the gym trainer, it was fate intervening to give you this opportunity!

“Bruh, if you don't go talk to him now…” you hear Porco, the trainer's voice as he nudges you in your crush's direction.

As you walk up to your crush you think about how stupid this idea seems. The plan was to ask him to alternate sets with you on seated rows since the gym was way too crowded.

Honestly, the move was a bit too obvious in your opinion. But you'd set your mind to it – Today is the day you finally talk to your crush!

It had been quite some time since you'd been secretly simping over this guy so what's the harm? All the other equipment being occupied was the perfect excuse, if you had to look for one, to finally talk to him.

Since you’re usually reserved, you don’t talk to anyone at the gym. You've always been this way – doing your own thing while blasting music in your earphones and going home without ever lifting your head up.

But ever since you saw him about a month ago, your eyes had been wandering around to find him the minute you'd enter the gym, stealing glimpses whenever you could without being creepy about it.

You decided it was just some stupid crush only because the man was ridiculously hot so it'll fade away eventually. But man, were you wrong.

When he didn't show up to the gym the whole week last week, you rushed to Porco, who's always hanging around to enquire – any semblance of subtlety thrown out the window.

It wasn't like you were planning to make a move (god knows the only reason you didn't talk much at the gym was to avoid the occasional creeps that would try talking you up).... but the fact that it felt like a missed chance with the mystery guy left an itch and a curiosity to know more.

“...you know the one who's always wearing anime t-shirts? Long, black haired pretty dude?” You'd asked, hoping Porco would recognize your crush from your half-assed description.

When Porco was seemingly confused, you'd pestered further, “The one who always has his hair tied in a messy bun but still looks gorgeous? Nothing? Ummm- The emo dude with the perfect proportions!”

“OH! Are you talking about Eren? I can’t quite remember his last name but pretty sure you’re talking about Eren. Yeah… he's a regular– has been here for a year now.”

“How come I only saw him a month ago?”

“I think he recently switched timings to fit his work schedule or something. Maybe he shifted back to the mornings.”

Your heart sinks at the information… there goes your imaginary chance with Eren.

Eren.

You memorise his name anyway… hoping that maybe the gods would be generous enough to give you a chance to talk to him.

And they do. He shows up over the weekend and you secretly cheer that he's back during your schedule. However, another month passes by as you keep on trying to find the ‘perfect’ opportunity to talk to him.

Which brings you to the present moment, as you walk towards him and wait at a distance while he finishes his reps. He slows down his movements nonetheless when your eyes meet, and before you can stop yourself, you wave at him before abruptly putting your hand down.

Eren stops his movements and pulls his headphones back, his serious face breaking into a soft smile, “Hii…?”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but would you mind alternating sets with me? I’ve been waiting for about 15 minutes…” you point at the other equipments flocked by people, “Totally cool if you can’t tho-”

“Okay,” he smiles as he does five more reps before getting up and wiping the sweat off the seat.

“Thank you,” you say as you go to adjust the weights. Your jaw almost drops when you see it's set to 80kgs. You almost want to laugh as you set it back to 15kgs.

‘Dude’s a beast, don’t compare! Upper body never was your best muscle group,’ you think to yourself. You resume your music quickly and begin your set. When you’re done, you get up to wipe the seat as well as the handlebars of the machine with your towel.

You hear a snort from behind and when you turn to look at Eren and see him give you a smile that has you weak in your knees.

“What?” you ask confused.

“Wiping the handles as well? Cute,” he answers. He can’t help but find this action considerate – Most people don’t even bother wiping the patch formed by their sweaty ass cheeks.

Even if his compliment makes you blush, you try hard to not let it show. You simply move away to signal him to the seat. He bends down to readjust the weights.

“No way you’re gonna go above 80!?” you gasp as you see him push it to 100kgs.

“The last one is always till failure,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Oh... that’s crazy, I could never. I’ve got noodle arms,” you joke.

“Didn’t you get your first full pull up a few days ago?” he asks.

PAUSE. He’s noticed you before???

As if instantly reading your mind, he adds, “I saw you cheering and clapping your hands with Porco when you did it.”

“Oh that… sorry, I try not to bother anyone much usually,” you feel the heat rise to your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“I know, don’t be sorry, it’s a good thing to celebrate your PR… besides, Reiner has been teasing me about not making any progress lately so I need to step up my game for sure,” he laughs to himself as he gets into position.

“Reiner?”

“That’s the huge blonde who I usually come with,” he explains. You simply nod and don’t speak further, letting him begin his set. He starts well but by the end you can tell that Eren is struggling a bit as soft cusses leave his lips, face scrunching and chest heaving as he steadies his breathing.

“Come on… 2 more.” you cheer, causing him to grunt as he finishes his set. Your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see him wipe the handles along with the seat, imitating your habit.

“Thank you.” you blush as you bend down to readjust the weights to 25kgs, “So, you’re done?”

“Yeah…” he speaks, taking small sips of water from his bottle, “I’ll see you around?”

You nod and he smiles at you as he turns to leave, but quickly turns back again, “Shit! Sorry… What's your name?”

The blush grows even further at his question as you tell him your name and ask, “What about you?”

“I’m Eren… Eren Jaeger.”

Jaeger. Eren Jaeger.

You memorise his full name and you both say your goodbyes as you get back to your workout. Eren left way before you did, leaving no room for further conversations to occur.

This interaction hadn’t gone unnoticed by Porco, who rushed to your side when you were stretching, “Soooo, am I your cupid yet?”

“Don’t get your hopes up… we’ll have small talks whenever we see each other at best. Nothing’s going to happen!” you lie with a straight face, but deep down you were dying to check him out on Instagram once you were in the comfort of your home.

Your crush was oh so kind to spare you the stalking when you see your phone light up with a notification later at night.

Eren_j started following you.

You almost jump up out of your bed but steady yourself to call your best friend, Annie, before you even get to checking his account.

“Guess who just followed me on ig?” you giggle when she picks up the call.

“Huh?”

“Guess. Who. Followed. Me!” you repeat.

“Darling… I need context,” she replies dryly.

“Eren… Eren followed me… the gym crush!” you squeal, killing the suspense since you knew it was too late at night for her to indulge in your guessing game.

“Waitttttt… the supposedly hot emo guy who wears anime t-shirts?” you can hear her surprising tone, “you go girl– thought you were too much of a puss-”

“Annie!” you cut her off, “What do I do? Should I text him first or just follow back?”

“NO! Always let the guy text first,” she proclaims.

“Ugh… but okay, I hear you… wouldn’t want to seem like a simp after keeping my cool for so long,” you answer back as you put her on speaker to follow him back. You see the Requested icon turn to Following within seconds.

“ANN! He accepted already,” you almost yell.

“Welp, that was fast,” she chuckles.

“Sooo,” you begin in a sweet sing-song voice, “I’m gonna go stalk his profil-”

“Yeah, alright… have a good night babe.” you hear a dramatic mwah from her. You chuckle as you bid her good night before hanging up.

As you skim through his profile, you can’t help but feel giddy at the fact that this guy actually seems to have a personality, unlike some gym bros who make ‘muscle’ their entire personality.

When you’re going through his story highlights, you see his username pop up at the top of your screen, making your heart race faster. He had replied to your story. You rush to check on your profile what you’d posted, feeling your brain malfunction as you fear it being something embarrassing and goofy.

Phew. It was just a post-workout selfie showing off your wet, sweaty t-shirt.

You open his text.

Eren_j:

Guess u got a good workout in after I left afterall.

Feeling a bit bold, you text back.

I did… would’ve been a lot more fun with you tho.

And you almost want to throw your phone away in anticipation as you see the typing icon.

Eren_j:

Be careful what you wish for. I’ve been told im a strict/difficult gym partner.

I like me a challenge :)

Eren_j:

Is that so? Guess i gotta make it particularly hard for u :)))

I’m a tough girl Eren… i think i can take it.

You swing your feet as you roll around on the bed. If you ever showed this to Annie, she’d probably call it ‘fucking cringe but cute nonetheless’.

As the double entendre texts died down, seamless conversations kept you hooked. He was putting in equal amounts of effort to keep the conversation alive. You don’t exactly remember how you fell asleep but you remember talking to him for about two hours or so.

And that’s how you became gym buddies. As another month had passed by, you got to know him as a friend. You want to cuss yourself since your crush has only increased tenfold ever since you’ve gotten to know him personally.

You realise just how deceiving his looks are – on the outside, he’s this big, intimidating dude but on the inside he’s got the golden retriever energy. Eren is the perfect mix of what you’d call a serious yet laid back/chill guy.

He’s thoughtful, remembers tiny details about you, sends you songs whenever he finds one he thinks you’d like and memes that remind him of you and is a self proclaimed hopeless romantic. You could go on and on about Eren and it would still not be enough – needless to say, you were absolutely gone for him, the kind that they describe as being totally head-over-heels in movies.

And it doesn’t help that a few nights ago, when the gym was basically empty, you two almost kissed. Standing in the corridor, as you were saying your goodbyes, it felt as if he was about to lean in to kiss you before being interrupted by someone walking out the changing room, making you flee the scene, akin to a criminal being caught.

But then again, you weren’t really sure if it was just your delusion overriding the tiny bit of logic left in your romance-ridden brain.

~~~

“Eren… I can’t– fuck,” you groan as your hands shake.

“You got it, come on. You’re doing so good. One more then we’re done. Promise,” you hear his voice as his grip on your waist tightens.

Eren supports your bodyweight as he pushes you up so that your chin is touching the pull up bar. The first few were bearable but by your 7th pull up, it’s more like he’s working his biceps rather than you working your back.

With shaky hands, you try to control your movement as you come down but your arms almost give in, causing you to slightly stumble as you drop to your feet with a light thud. His grip on your waist tightens to steady you before letting go gently.

Ever since the almost kiss, you’d been extra aware of his touches. So even his guiding touches, without any ulterior motives, have been making you feel some type of way.

You slouch slightly as you sit against a wall in the corner, sipping your water. You close your eyes to calm your breathing as you feel your arms burn. You groan as you realise you’re going to be super sore tomorrow morning.

“Good job bub,” he snickers. You open your eyes to see him bend down in front of you to pat your head lightly.

“I give up… you win, you are a ruthless gym partner.”

“Aww… I'm flattered,” he jokes further.

You roll your eyes as you swat his hand away from your head.

“Let me make it up to you, I’ll give you a massage. How about that?” he adds jokingly, though you know he wouldn’t mind actually giving you one if you ask him nicely.

“You better! I’m not going to be able to make dinner tonight!” you reply as you hold your arms out limply in front of him.

“Then don’t. Let me make you dinner,” he says, taking the opportunity.

“For real?” you ask, taken by surprise by his sudden yet tempting offer.

“Yeah? Got any plans for tonight?”

“No… let’s do it. I'm in,” you agree before demanding, “but, I want that massage as well.”

“Done… my massages can put those Thai spas to shame,” he boasts.

“Are you overselling yourself Jaeger?” you tease him, “it’s often disappointing when reality doesn’t match the hype.”

“You’re gonna eat your words later… I’ve been told I’ve got magic fingers.” he retorts, his cocky smirk wider than ever. You roll your eyes as you grab your things before getting up.

“That’s for me to decide,” you poke him further, “... the food better be worth the 7 pull ups.”

Surprisingly he doesn’t have a witty comeback in his arsenal this time. You simply hear a low chuckle escape his lips and it’s somehow more mischievous than whatever clever words he would’ve spoken otherwise.

You’d never been to his place before, meaning it took a few minutes for your brain to register that you were going to Eren fucking Jaeger’s place! In the changing room, you freshen up as much as you can to try to not look like a sweaty mess. You change into a pair of jeans and a jumper, slinging the gym bag over your shoulder before giving yourself one last look in the mirror and walking out to meet him near the entrance of the gym.

As you walk out, you see him waiting for you on his bike, securing the helmet on his head. He’s changed into a pair of loose jeans and a denim jacket over his t-shirt. Even when you’d seen his ride for the first time, Eren being a biker never surprised you since it felt very on-brand for him.

Imagine him picking you up for a date, waiting on his bike with a bouquet of tulips in hand. Ehe.

You snap out of your daydream when he holds out the other helmet in front of you. You lean your head down when he motions you to do so and he puts the helmet on you.

“Where did the second one come from?” you wonder out loud.

“I had planned to take you home tonight from the start,” he winks.

You snort as you slide the visor of his helmet down his face. You hear his laugh as he adds, “Porco let me borrow his, apparently he keeps an extra one in the cabin for god-knows-what.”

“I guess I really might need to call Porco a cupi–” you freeze midway.

“Hmm?”

“A good trainer.” you correct yourself, and you’re pretty sure it was far from convincing but Eren decides not to tease you about it. You’re 99.99% certain he heard it – maybe he just wants to save you the embarrassment, you think to yourself.

You hop onto his bike and hesitantly rest your hands on his sides not wanting to seem awkward by straight up hugging him from behind. However, he straightens his back as he grabs the top of your hands, pulling them to the front to wrap them around his waist. You smile to yourself as you rest your cheek on his back and hug your arms around him steadily.

The ride back to his place is barely 10 minutes long. You miss being so close to him as soon as you get off the bike in the parking lot. He parks and guides you to his apartment holding your wrist gently. It’s not a complete holding-hands-fingers-intertwined but that has never stopped you from overanalyzing things, has it?

You take in your surroundings when you enter the apartment and it doesn’t stand out much. It looks like any normal dude’s apartment, except it’s cleaner – probably more than your own.

“Wow, your apartment is clean,” you comment.

“You’re hurting me babe. Did you expect me to live like a savage just cause I’m a guy.”

“No, no… I’m sorry it came out wrong–” you try to clarify but he interrupts.

“Kidding! I know it’s cleaner than usual. I live with Reiner and Levi… while Reiner and I aren’t really shabby, Levi really can’t tolerate a dirty house,” Eren explains.

“Oh, that must be exhausting, no?”

“Not really. That was Levi’s one condition when Reiner and I went to him in search of a third flatmate so we agreed.”

“Ah, makes sense. Are they here?” you ask, curiously as you hang your bag near the coat rack and take off your shoes. Eren returns to your side, having locked the door and keeping all his things in their designated places.

“Nah. Reiner’s out of town on a work trip for like two weeks and Levi’s gone home for a few days as well,” he answers as he shrugs off his jacket, folding it before placing it on the side table.

You can’t help but find it cute that he keeps the place neat so diligently, being considerate of others… but then again, you’ve been finding all of Eren’s actions cute lately.

“... so it’s just us here tonight.” he says flirtatiously.

“Good thing, I’d hate to share food now… I’m hungry,” you say, dodging it. Usually, you’d flirt back but the two of you being alone at his place suddenly feels so real – anything could happen. You chicken out – there may be a possibility that he likes you back but there could ALSO be a possibility of him only liking you as a friend.

“‘Ight, what would you like to have?” he asks as you follow him to the kitchen.

“Surprise me… nothing too fancy though.”

“Phew… I was actually hoping for that answer since I’d prepared the dough for burger patties,” he admits sheepishly as he washes his hand and puts on the apron. You lean against the opposite counter to let him cook in peace without any hindrance.

“Do you want my hel-”

“OH– just a min,” he interrupts you as he hurries out of the kitchen. You blink in confusion as you follow him out to check on the guy and find him connecting his phone to the speaker.

A soft song plays through the speaker loudly and he walks towards you as if just now he’s truly ready to take on kitchen duties.

“It’s my cooking playlist,” he smiles.

He’s so fucking cute. For fucks sake!

When you ask him again if he wants your help, he declines saying ‘the only thing you need to do tonight is compliment my amazing skills.’

So you watch him work while chatting away about random things. It doesn’t take long for him to prepare the patties and heat the buns, adding copious amounts of veggies with melting cheese on top of it. He presents it with a ‘Tada!’ and you clap at his presentation with a dramatic ‘Bravo!’

When you taste the first bite, you almost moan at how delicious it is. The burger is huge, juicy and has the right balance of crispy and soft with spicy, sweet and sour. You close your eyes, delving into the heavenly taste.

You open your eyes to see Eren devouring his own burger, unfazed by the masterpiece that he’d created as if it were something ordinary to him.

“Eren!” you squeal, “if this is what I get to eat after, I might just do a hundred pull-ups from tomorrow.”

Eren chuckles at this, licking the cheesy sauce that had trickled down his fingers, “Told ya I only brag when I know I’m good.”

“I’m serious! This is too good,” you add, taking another bite.

“I know… thank you,” Eren smiles, clearly amused at the way you’re enjoying his burger. And in that moment, a thought crosses his mind – he’d make you dinner every night if it meant that he got to be the reason for you to feel such bliss.

Neither of you talk much till you finish eating. Your reason being wanting to relish in the taste with full concentration and Eren’s reason being not wanting to disturb your peace.

When you’re done, you clear out the plates and Eren cleans the table. As you’re walking out of the kitchen, you hear a familiar tune playing when he resumes the songs on his playlist.

You recognize it – Dope Lovers by DPR IAN.

“I love this song!” you exclaim as you walk towards him. The tension you’d felt at the beginner has almost dissipated and feeling a little courageous, you extend an arm out to him to dance.

He tosses his phone on the sofa before taking your hand to pull you closer to him. You sway your body to the rhythm as you mumble some of the lyrics.

“Is it the art or the artist that you like?” he teases.

“Well, you can’t deny that he isn’t hot… There’s something about DPR Ian, he’s soooo–” you pause to think about the right word to use before concluding, “– babygurl.”

“Babygurl?” Eren laughs as he rests his arms at your hips, “What does that even mean?”

“It’s like daddy – it’s a state of mind,” you joke but then you purse your lips as you really think about how to explain this endearing slang to Eren, “Babygurl is when a man is so comfortable in his masculinity that he isn't scared of embracing his soft side and being gentle. A man who knows that kindness is strength. Someone who looks so tough but is far from toxic. A man who’s a gentleman in the true sense of the word… does that make sense?”

“Hmm, I think so…” he nods, “Who else is babygurl?”

“You are, Eren,” you smile and lift your hands up to move to his neck but stop when you feel a weird stiffness in your shoulders, “ow, it’s sore already.”

“Okay, let’s give you that massage!” he declares with a booming laugh, taking your hands in his and guiding you to the sofa. He sits you down with your back facing him and gently taps near your lower back to signal you to sit up straight.

“Relax your shoulders,” you hear him speak softly as his hands move up to your shoulders but he pauses his movement. He lifts his hands to comb his fingers through your locks and you jerk slightly when his fingers touch your neck in the process.

“Eren, what are you doin-” you giggle as you turn your head to look at him.

“Shh, stay still,” he murmurs, knitting his eyebrows in concentration. His hair falls down, framing his face as he takes out his hair tie. You turn to look to the front as he runs his fingers to gather all your loose strands together once again. You feel him gently pull at your hair as he secures it with his hair tie.

“You know, you could’ve just asked for mine. It’s in my bag,” you chuckle.

“Too lazy,” he replies as his hands begin to massage your back gently. He alternates between pressing his thumbs down the length of your spine and pressing his palms flat to cover the entire area, sliding his hands down in slow pressured movements. You slouch in his touch and his hands move up to your shoulder blades to massage the area in circular motion.

“Mmm, Eren– that feels so good,” you breathe out, skin feeling like wax that could melt into his hands at any moment. You’re certain you’d fall asleep in a few minutes if he continued doing this any longer.

Eren changes his movement to bring up his fingertips to your nape, dragging them gently over the expanse of your neck, his fingers dancing over your skin as he dips them under the collar to trace your skin. This causes you to let out an involuntary whimper and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when his touch comes to a halt.

You’re pretty sure he can see the goosebumps pricking on the surface of your skin and you mumble a soft ‘sorry’ as you create some space between to turn around to face him completely. Your eyes meet and you’re smiling at him awkwardly but he has a poker face.

He gets up abruptly, breaking eye contact as he hurries towards the kitchen. You look at him, confused and are about to ask him why he was acting that way but he speaks up before you do.

“Want anything to drink? Something sweet for dessert?”

“Umm… okay,” you mutter, still confused.

“Anything specific?” he enquires.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of hot coffee,” you request, smiling as you abandon your previous thought.

“Coffee? At night?” he counters, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s my talent. I can sleep like a baby no matter how strong the coffee is.”

“Hmmm… Would you like to try the Eren Jaeger Special where I mix loads of chocolate with coffee and cream?”

“So, basically a mocha?” you press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing.

“Yes or no?” he says with narrowed eyes.

“Yes,” you laugh and he rolls his eyes as he turns around, disappearing into the kitchen.

You’re scrolling through your phone when you hear his approaching footsteps after a few minutes. You close your phone as you turn your head to look up at him as he walks towards you with two steaming mugs in hand.

As soon as he places one of the mugs on the table, you pick it up instantly. He sits down in front of you to clink your mugs together with a ‘cheers’. You both take tiny sips together and your eyes widen at the frothy sweet and bitter taste.

“If you get me addicted, you’ll have to be the one to meet the demands too, just sayinggg…'' you blow over the surface and take another sip.

“Yes ma’am, I’d gladly oblige to all of your demands,” he winks before taking another sip from his mug. You try to hide your growing smile with your mug. For the rest of the conversation you try to change the subject from the two of you to literally anything else you can find – and Eren being the great conversationalist that he is, is talking about each topic just as enthusiastically.

“Aww man, the last of the coffee’s gone cold.” you swirl the liquid in the mug.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Eren fake yells, already having finished his. You raise one fist up as you gulp the last of your coffee down in one go and slam the mug down on the cushion. Feeling the frothy stache over your upper lip, you lick it off, laughing along with him.

“There’s still some left…” Eren mumbles, pointing at his own mouth to show the spot. Before you have a chance to wipe it, he swipes his thumb over the corner of your lips before bringing it to his lips to lick it off. It’s such a simple act yet it has the butterflies in your stomach going rampant.

“Hey, that was mine,” you try to feign offence but it comes out more desperate than you’d intended as you stare at his lips a little too longer than friends are supposed to.

He cups your face with both his hands as his gaze deepens before his eyes move down to your lips. Your breath hitches as you see him instinctively wet his lips. He leans in to move closer till your faces are just inches away.

“Then take it back agai–” he’s rudely interrupted by the sound of the front door opening with a loud thud. You pull back abruptly to create some space between the two of you. You see Eren’s jaw clench as he closes his eyes briefly in an attempt to keep his cool.

“REINER MY BROTHER– oh,” you see a man enter the living room with a large backpack.

“Jean.” Eren says, giving him a tight lipped smile.

“Eren. Where’s Reiner?” Jean asks as he looks at the two of you.

“Did he not tell you that he wasn’t gonna be at home for a while?” Eren answers, and you’re almost surprised at how cold his tone is.

“Yes? But I figured he'd leave after seeing me?” Jean retorts.

“And why would he do that?” Eren asks just as coldly.

“Since he said I was welcome to stay in his room while I was in town? Even told me to use the key y'all keep in the space behind the nameplate,” the man explains.

“Great! It's amazing how my roommate fails to tell me about shit like this.” Eren mutters but smiles at the guy nonetheless, “His room is unlocked… feel free to make yourself at home I guess.”

“Thanks. Have fun, I guess,” Jean half salutes Eren, giving you both a smug smile, feeling the satisfaction of having cockblocked his friendly foe. He leaves you two alone, making his way to Reiner’s room. Once you watch him disappear, you turn to check your phone for the time.

This time it was real! You’re not delusional, he really was about to kiss you!

You silence the voice in your head. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that Eren seemingly likes you but he can’t seem to make a move or at least declare his feelings with certainty. And there’s no way in hell you’d confess first since it’s pretty evident you like him, you’ve dropped enough hints over a month’s time – you want him to be the one to do it first.

“It’s late, I better get going,” you make an excuse as you stand up, gathering your things as you prepare to leave. Your cheeks feel hot and you give him a small smile, feeling a bit too flustered to carry on a conversation at this point.

“Let me drop you home,” he offers quickly as he stands up with you.

“My apartment isn’t far from here.”

“It's late,” he adds. You consider it and nod your head. He smiles as he grabs his keys along with his own two helmets this time.

The ride home is quick so neither of you bother with small talk. Once he parks in the parking lot of your apartment building, he tilts his bike to make it easier for you to get off. He gets off the bike, gently taking your helmet off and placing it on the bike. As you fix your hair, he takes his helmet off as well, placing it next to yours.

You slightly shuffle on your feet as you prepare to say your goodbyes. When he turns back to look at you, you smile earnestly.

“I had a fun time tonight… despite you being a meanie at the gym.” you try to lighten up the tension.

“Only for you bub,” he jokes back, making finger-hearts at you.

“Good night, Eren.” you laugh as you wave at him and turn to walk away. You barely take a step when you hear him say your name.

“Hmm?” you turn around to look at him again. He doesn’t speak but takes one long stride to close the distance between you, wrapping his hands around your waist. As if on instinct, you drop your bag to the ground and place your hands on his shoulders, looking up at him as your breath hitches in your throat again.

He brings his left hand up to your cheek, dipping his head down to kiss your lips without any further delay. His wider frame envelopes yours as the hand on your cheek snakes back to hold your head in place as he deepens the kiss. You wrap both your hands around his neck, standing on your tippy toes for better access while his lower hand wraps around your waist even tighter.

When your lips finally part to catch your breaths, he looks you in the eye, smiling contently. Your legs feel giddy from the high you’re experiencing and you’re glad he’s still holding you flush against his body.

“I’d been dying to do that ever since I laid my eyes on you… figured it’d be pretty stupid of me to let the opportunity go twice in a row,” he confesses, dipping his head down again to kiss you once again.

You’re surprised, your brain reeling at the information but you close your eyes nonetheless, getting lost in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

“Yeah, it would’ve been pretty stupid,” you smile when he pulls back. You pull him down by the collar to give him a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for not wasting any more chances.”

You run your hands through his loose strands and he hums as he closes his eyes. You pull him down for another deep kiss. His tongue invades your mouth and he squeezes your ass as he pulls your body further closer to his. When you feel his boner from under his clothing, it causes you to moan into the kiss.

Your hands move down his sides, lowering further but he stops your movement with his own hands holding your wrists firmly. He pulls away from the kiss, eyes still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. His hot breath fans your face as he speaks, “It’s taking everything in me to not come up to your place to fuck you right now.”

“Then do it,” you mewl desperately as you kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss but breaks it once again to speak, “No, I wanna do this right. Let me take you out on a real date first… tomorrow evening?”

You feel your cheeks burn up as you bite your bottom lip to contain the grin threatening to give away your excitement as you nod. You stand on your toes once again to give him a quick peck. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, enveloping you into a comforting hug.

“Take this with you,” he mumbles as he goes to grab a helmet. He leans down to grab your bag from the floor, handing both the items to you.

“Good night Eren,” you smile. He cups your face with both his hands and leans down to kiss you again – it’s brief but passionate.

“Good night baby,” he smiles as he lightly smacks your ass, earning a yelp from you. Before you can scold him, he gives you a hasty kiss before making his way to his bike. You walk to the elevator and press the button, turning to look back at him as he secures his helmet.

He starts the bike but waits till he sees you enter the elevator. Just as the door closes, you catch a glimpse of him leaving. You lean back against the railing, covering your face with your hands, not really believing what had just occurred.

The man you’d been pining over for months had been crushing over you all along too.

Eren Jaeger never was just another unrequited crush – and come tomorrow, he’s going to mean a lot more than just a friend.

#erensbirdie #aot x reader #aot x you #aot #aot smut #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

Aita for coughing while being sick?

So this will be short and sweet.

For the last week and half I (20nb) have been sick. My partner (22nb) got me sick when they were sick before hand. We don't know what this sickness is but my partner had it mostly in their nose and throat while mine is mostly in my throat and chest. As a result, we both had/have a cough as part of our sickness. Their cough was mild and gone after the worst of the sickness. Mine has been a constant. I have been coughing up flem for a week now. It's gross and I have to do the hard coughs to feel like I'm getting it out of my throat and chest. I've had coughing fits so hard I've thrown up. It constantly feels like water is going down the wrong pipe so I cough.

Obviously coughing for almost 2 weeks gets annoying fast and my partner very nicely (read: passively angrily) told me it was starting to get annoying to hear me cough every couple of mins and I should be on meds. I have a very complicated relationship with medication and can't take the cold destroyer massive pills so I take the liquid meds that don't do as much and run out fast. They don't stop the coughing but it takes them from every 2 to 5 mins to every 10 to 20 mins which is good enough for me. I also don't like to take medicine unless I absolutely need It/cant exist without it so I dont take the meds every 4 hours like requested. I also have IBS and the meds fuck with it and I don't want constant tummy issues and pain.

My coughing dose occasionally and obviously get painful so I take meds when it hurts, im having more than one coughing fit a day or the coughing is really bad. Day by day my no-coughing window extends so it'll be gone soon, i just need to tough it out. My partners patience is slowly running out though and on the days we're both home (very rare, 2 or 3 times a week), they'll push me to take my meds consistently then constantly ask me if I've taken them. Honestly, it's irritating and like they don't respect my comfortability with medicine. I get it, constant coughing is irritating but I obviously can't make it go away or else I would, as "grating" as hearing me cough is, it's more annoying and also painful to be the one constantly coughing. Unless I need it, I won't take it. I don't feel like coughing once every 30 mins is a need-meds rate and I feel like they are over reacting to my coughing when I didnt say a word before to them about theirs. I'm not shaking the house with hard loud over exaggerated coughs, it's a few here and there and as I need to. I told them to lay off the meds issue after two days of meds talk because it was making me uncomfortable and they stopped but they still occasionally glare at me when I cough. It's not like the house is dead silent and my coughing is breaking their focus, it just seems like something they are obsessing over that I can't help nor really change. They have the option to go to another room or turn on music or something but they wanna be near me and cuddle and part of that includes the coughing rn.

So, am I the asshole for coughing and not taking medicine I don't feel comfortable taking just because my occasional coughing is "driving my partner insane"?

This issue will have passed before this even comes out but I'm just curious if I'm being sort of an ass by not wanting to take meds I don't nessesarily need.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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genericpuff · 6 months

Text

The Extended Mishandling of LO's S3 Midseason Finale Premiere

Alright, so I had mentioned leading up to the release of the newest LO episode that my feelings regarding LO returning were pretty "meh". Not hyped, but not completely back of mind either. Just sort of a weird calm before the storm type feeling that could go either way.

I'm glad I got to have that moment of calmness because good god, this episode was an absolute shitshow. And honestly, I'm not surprised, for several reasons:

Rachel has never been good at maintaining a buffer, even back at the start of the series she only ever had 2-3 episodes ready ahead of her schedule which is NOT an ideal buffer for an originals series.

Rachel has never been good at writing, she's very "draw first write later" and has stated as such in interviews that when she gets 'stuck' on what she's writing, she'll just start drawing and fit the pieces in later.

Four months is NOT enough time to both rest, attend massive conventions, and work on improving a project while also getting buffer episodes ready.

Because of the FP episodes remaining locked over the hiatus, technically Rachel only needed to have ONE episode ready upon return for the newest FP release, not multiple like she'd usually need like in the past during the S2 midseason hiatus or the season finale episodes which would unlock those FP releases like normal - so for all we know, she could have drawn this episode literally last week, especially when the promo material was so last minute. Frankly I think it was REALLY stupid for whoever it was who decided to keep these FP episodes locked (whether it was her or WT, it was more likely WT) but you can read all I have to say about that in my review of the midseason finale episodes.

All that's to say, no, there was never any guarantee Rachel was going to somehow "turn around" the ride we're currently on. I know that many of the critics were hoping for that to happen, but with the circumstances of the hiatus mixed with Rachel's bad habits of putting her best efforts into the procrastination projects that aren't her actual comic (ex. the few original pieces and LO sketches she put out during the hiatus) it just wasn't in the cards. This is where the comic is at and this is where it will remain until it's over.

I want to also point something out about this episode that was... really glaring to me.

As with all of these hiatus returns, LO got priority advertising in the first two banner slots and push notifications AND a popup ad within the app. This is unsurprising, Webtoons is still trying to milk this thing for what it's worth.

I know a lot of people are gonna focus on the art, or the fact that WT is continuing to shill LO, but I wanna point out the part that WT implemented specifically - "NEW SEASON".

This is literally just false. At best I'd like to think some intern just messed up and thought this was a new season, but it's literally not, the episode designation still says "S3". Note that the creators only design the banner art, the actual labels on top are put there by Webtoons.

But at worst, this feels like blatant lying to continue to hide the fact that LO is ending. Mind you, Rachel and Webtoons have still not put out official posts stating that this is the final arc. There is NOTHING from either of them to communicate to the audience that the comic is ending next year. It feels like they're trying to avoid the topic altogether out of fear of losing the fanbase they still have, rather than hyping up the comic's end for those who have stuck around to see how it all wraps up. And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case, considering they're now trying to funnel the fanbase into Penguin/Inklore with new marketing deals and the whole Rachel Smythe Presents thing. They're trying to make this seem like the beginning of something "new" when it's really just a quiet shifting of management (Penguin House).

But all that aside, let's actually get into the episode. It's one episode after 4 months, which is not standard for LO's hiatuses, typically FP episodes release on schedule (meaning free readers start hiatuses 3 weeks after FP readers do), the only time this has been an exception has been with the 2 week breaks because the whole point of those was to build a buffer (which you can't do if you're going ahead and releasing the FP episodes anyways). For extended hiatuses like these, usually free readers still get their FP episodes, but that wasn't the case here. That means Rachel technically only needed one episode ready for the comic's return, and it shows. It really fucking shows.

FROM HERE ON OUT THERE WILL BE FASTPASS SPOILERS REGARDING EPISODE 254. DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED !!!

As per tradition, we get a title that means nothing at all. It just says what we already know.

Our collective husband Zeus is dying, no thanks to the poison cupcake fed to him by Apollo. For those who don't remember, Apollo had tricked Zeus into eating the cupcake by making him believe it was from Hebe. We are fully aware that it was Apollo who poisoned him. Remember that for later in this review.

Right off the bat we're off to a hilarious start, both with a cryptid appearance from Apollo in the background (lmao) who is, for some reason, ALREADY returning to the scene of the crime he just committed because... who knows at this point. Apollo and Psyche know it was Apollo at this point, I might add, but I have no clue why Apollo is actually returning to the scene of the crime when he has no idea Eros and Psyche know.

Moving on from that, can we talk about this hilarious dialogue?

"We have to call a doctor! Let's call Asclepius!"

"No, we can't trust him! Gosh darn it, why are we only bothering to think of ONE doctor in this universe where we've seen more than one doctor?? Guess Zeus is just gonna die! What a horribly contrived situation this is!"

And that's literally how I can best describe most of this episode. Contrived. There is a LOT of manufactured drama in this that makes ZERO sense even on a surface level.

And what do you mean exactly, Eros? "What a terrible system!" Is this supposed to be a joke? Lampshading? We've seen Persephone go to the gynecologist. There are non-god doctors who tend to gods all the time here.

Eros just doesn't seem to be that pressed over this, he sounds like Ned Flanders and that's NOT a good way to open up a scene like this... let alone an episode people have been waiting four months for.

Anyways, after a few pointless reaction panels (again remember I have to cut a lot of what I show here for Tumblr image limitations but I promise you, I'm keeping as much important stuff as I can in this, there's just THAT MUCH filler at this point), Eros and Psyche confront Apollo and he is... good god.

There is... so much to unpack here.

First of all, remember those theories about how Rachel was clearly trying to write Apollo as this "secret twist villain" the whole time but it doesn't work because Apollo is simultaneously written as both a 'conniving villain' and a massive dumbass at the same time?

Well, I finally have a more appropriate term for him. He's your average red pill redditor - someone who thinks he's smarter than everyone else when really all he does is sit on reddit all day using big words incorrectly in arguments he gets himself into with a bunch of equally-air-headed dumbasses.

"You can't possibly understand the nuances of the Olympian political system," Apollo said proudly, a man who had, ironically and obliviously, run for president in a monarchy. The union of kettle and pot is eternal.

He's the Slappable Jerk but instead of it being a painfully hilarious impression, it's just painful and hilarious for all the wrong reasons.

this is so stupid because it's 1.) Eros pointing out how obvious Apollo's plan was, despite Apollo acting smart two seconds ago with a goddess who, mind you, has been a goddess for ten years, and 2.) patricide isn't even intrinsically linked to politics, there's nothing 'political' about a guy trying to kill his dad except in, idk, a monarchy, which again, Apollo has spent ten years trying to rise to power in as a president which is a completely different form of government.

If I wanted to be really granular with this, I'd like to think Apollo is making some kind of point about the critics who call out LO's whack as fuck political system (especially in the trial arc) - as if he's saying "well you're just a stupid reader and this is fantasy where you don't understand exactly what political system we're using, so shut the fuck up you stupid twig" - but I don't think it's meant to be that deep. I think it's just Rachel trying to write a smart character and then failing at it because she, herself, is not a smart writer. And I'm really inclined to believe that more than the theory about this being some kind of meta-narrative about the critics because this entire plotline is contrived and stupid down to its core.

I did not cut anything out here, that's the pacing. Leto literally just appears out of nowhere and uh oh spaghettio's, she has Kassandra! Remember Leto? The character we were led to believe was truly "pulling the strings" until she disappeared from the story completely after she realized that Apollo and Persephone weren't a thing, even going so far as to call out her own son for being a fucking dumbass? Well, she's back and once again she's being involved as some kind of "double agent" in this whole thing, even though we literally haven't seen her since halfway through S2.

"Mm yes, you're so stupid, falling into my trap! Even though you had no reason to remember Kassandra anyways because she's literally a mortal woman you just met and you yourself have committed acts of violence against mortals without a shred of care! I'm so smart! My plan is all coming together!"

We've never seen Apollo do anything except cry and poop his pants, the closest he got to being "powerful" was his attempts to murder Daphne (who he seems to have forgotten about in this "master plan" of his) but ultimately he's literally just a piss ant baby and there's no reason to believe that he could somehow outmatch the God of Love who can literally manipulate people's emotions and states of mind with his arrows. But yeah sure go off, you're so powerful and smart.

The worst part is, I can't even buy this as the narrative trying to be like "see how manipulative and conniving he is?" because it's just silly. We've SEEN this man cry with his victim complex, we've seen him say and do the DUMBEST things that don't lend to any amount of "intelligence" he may have, it comes across less as him being "smart the whole time" and more as him trying to sound smart but ultimately sounding incredibly stupid. And I can't even immerse myself into it and buy that maybe that's the point, because it doesn't feel like the point, it just feels like inconsistent writing, he doesn't feel like a 'threat', he's just monologuing.

Bad art and Apollo literally just repeating what Leto already implied so this is a waste of the audience's time.

This is the funniest panel in the whole episode because I can't tell if Apollo is supposed to be in the background (for some reason, despite him literally being in front of Eros and Psyche two seconds ago) or if he's in the foreground and just REALLY small for some reason. This is so off-putting. And of course, it's just Apollo explaining what we're ALREADY SEEING ONSCREEN.

You see, in addition to this episode being contrived, it also talks down to its audience a LOT by explaining exactly what we're seeing onscreen. It's like Rachel saw the criticisms about her not including enough to depict what's actually going on in her head and so she thought the solution was to spoon feed information over pictures that are already doing the job of explaining what's going on. Rachel really doesn't know how to write and even when she tries to implement changes that reflect criticisms that have been made of her writing, she somehow makes things worse because she completely misses the point of what those criticisms are trying to get across.

Anyways, without even trying to resist (for some reason) Eros and Psyche get sentenced to horny jail.

They're now trapped in a basement that Leto somehow has in her home. How do we know that?

HAHAHA FUNNY LAMPSHADING SO FUNNNYYYYYYY

Leto claims that they shouldn't try to escape because the dungeon is "enchanted", but she doesn't even bother to explain what that means. So they literally don't bother trying. They don't try to call her bluff, they don't try to teleport out of there, they literally just go "well shoot", shrug their shoulders, and accept their fate. Just like with the whole "we can't trust the only doctor we bothered to think of" situation, Eros and Psyche are turning out to be some of the stupidest, lowest-effort characters in this comic who literally can't be bothered to try because that would require too much brain power.

Notice how much time we've spent on this and we haven't gotten back to where the cliffhanger of the last episode left off? Well buckle up because there's still more to cover.

So it turns out Hebe was still inside with her dad, in FULL VIEW of what was going on through glass which is somehow COMPLETELY soundproof, and when Apollo steps inside, she just has no idea what happened. She never bothered to even look outside to see what was going on with Eros and Psyche, she's just been sitting on the floor staring at Zeus' dead face for what was likely several minutes, unless Rachel is seriously trying to convince us that conversation and hostage negotiation from earlier only took 2 seconds. The timeline is such a mess at this point that characters basically freeze in place as soon as they're not the focus of the scene.

Apollo rushes inside, acting shocked over the situation, and when Hebe asks where Eros and Psyche are (again, she could have just looked out the window at any time), he's just like "dur idk they just left lol" which Hebe just... buys, I guess.

That's just Persephone but yellow. She's even missing her beauty mark.

See how Apollo put his hand on Zeus' chest/shoulder by the way?

Apparently, despite Mr. Smarter Than Everyone Else trying to pretend it wasn't him, he's able to discern that Zeus is dying from a toxic and rare poison just from touching him. He doesn't even really seem to use his powers, he just touches him and goes "welp he's dead i guess lol don't bother asking me how I know that".

But oh nooo remember that note from before? Well gasp Apollo's gonna use it to frame Hebe! In front of no one else at all!

Hebe of course says she didn't write it, but Apollo continues to try and frame her anyways, even though, again, there's no one else present here, and so it effectively just becomes the most absurd form of gaslighting I've ever seen.

Again, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE IN THE SCENE. He's just trying to claim she did it to absolutely no one at all, in the hopes of... what exactly? That she'll just take the fall for something she knows she didn't do? That she'll somehow be convinced? It's not like Hebe has the same thing going on as Persephone where she has a 'wrathful dark side' he could pin it on, this is just a criminal who just robbed a building pointing at the first person they see and yelling "YOU DID IT!"

All I'm saying is that Apollo would be really bad at Among Us. He'd be the type of player to kill someone, hit the report button, then claim yellow did it which, even if he DID convince the rest of the team, would still get kicked anyways as soon as yellow was proven through the eject to not be the imp and everyone would go "okay cool so yellow wasn't the imp, that means obviously it's purple self-reporting." It's a trick that doesn't even work anymore because of how old it is. Hebe isn't a child here, she's an 18 year old woman who should be fully capable of raising an eyebrow and wondering why Apollo is this quick to accuse her - almost like he's trying to hide the fact that he did it.

But Hebe can't catch onto this, just like Eros and Psyche, she has to act stupid for the sake of the plot.

At first I thought maybe Rachel was trying to do some "whodunit" scenario, but that doesn't work here because we already know who did it. And while there are stories that exist like that that pull it off (ex. Knives Out) the problem with trying to do this the way Rachel did is that the person being framed has to have this thing called motive. The reason why Knives Out and Glass Onion work so well is because the person who was murdered (or conspired against) is someone who is being targeted by multiple people who could all be the murderer. It's quite literally called out in Glass Onion as a form of smart lampshading. "It's like putting a loaded gun on the table, and turning off the lights."

But it doesn't work here because Hebe does not have motive. If you're going to attempt to frame a murder on someone, it has to be someone who would have reasonable motive to commit that murder, even if they didn't actually commit it.

And who among Zeus' children has motive?

What about the war-mongering bloodthirsty god of war who has been regularly sentenced to time in the Mortal Realm to fight in wars in which he's been regularly injured?

What about the chaos-seeking wrathful goddess who would do it to get revenge on the parental figure who cast her aside, or even just for the fun of saying she did it?

Why try and pin it on Hebe, the doting daughter of Zeus who's only had a collective of maybe 20 panels in the entire comic?

But then I realized... it's not Knives Out, it's the fucking Lion King.

Which is just as contrived - if not more - than the assumption this was gonna be some attempt to frame Hebe. It's not. He's literally just trying to keep her from assuming it was him. He could have just as easily played dumb without calling attention to the note but he intentionally went out of his way to try and be Scar from The Lion King , while completely missing the point of why that scene worked in the original movie.

Scar wasn't trying to 'frame' Simba for Mufasa's murder. He was trying to hide the murder, while also attempting to get the only heir to the throne out of the picture, so he passed the guilt of the death onto Simba - a child who, unlike Hebe, wouldn't have the ability to rationalize or realize his uncle his a scumbag - who then ran away from home because he was too terrified to face his family for what happened, assuming that it was all his fault when it wasn't.

That's not how this is panning out here. Hebe is the now 18 year old daughter of Zeus, and not one of his only children. She doesn't even fit into the whole "sons overthrowing their fathers" prophecy like Aries would. Apollo is literally just being a big idiot here by saying "well I'm gonna give you a headstart to run away, because if you stay, I might hurt you" (which btw, should be MORE of a smoking gun that Apollo did it??)

And again, it's all so contrived so that the plot can move forward. "Well I'm going to frame you for this murder, but y'know, you should just leave, I'm not gonna try and press it further lmao"

Again, Apollo is a fucking idiot here, because he just attempted to frame someone who has NO MOTIVE to harm Zeus, to absolutely NO ONE at all who would side with him, only to let her go which would leave her to question why Apollo would try to accuse and harm her in the first place before considering other options. And through ALL this he claims he's the smart one, which I can't even be bothered to "love to hate" because it's written so poorly.

And really it all comes down to how everyone else behaves in relation to Apollo that makes it so stupid and unbelievable. Apollo, you're not smart just because all the characters around you are intentionally being written to be as stupid and non-confrontation as possible. If you can only write a smart villain by making everyone else stupid, you haven't written a smart villain, you've written a dumbass whose victory only happens due to contrived plot convenience. It's not even done well like in Glass Onion, it's just bad writing, full stop.

And who does he call to report this emergency? The satyr police? His son the doctor?

No.

The media. Literally just "hello, the media?? I need your best journalist here stat!"

I need you to understand, even if he were calling a tabloid magazine like The Weekly Nark, you don't just... call a journalist to report a murder. These are not the actions of someone who's trying to absolve himself of guilt, these are the actions of a complete dumbass trying to get news coverage of his trophy kill who would be better off just playing dumb instead of trying to play smart. Even Walter White wasn't this fucking stupid despite all the times he fell on his own sword, Apollo is literally just instigating suspicion towards himself for no reason at all. He's self-reporting so hard and worst of all, you can't even take any of this seriously because of how corny it is. There's no dramatic tension, no stakes, it's just a bunch of characters performing in a really bad stage play and reducing every conflict to "well I guess Zeus is just dead now because no one's bothering to make an effort to stop Apollo or ask questions lmao"

It's truly the epitome of "this plot wouldn't exist if characters would just talk to each other."

But finally, FINALLY we mention the thing this episode is named after, the transition point to Persephone.

Just like with the midseason finale episode, there's a lot to cover here, so I'm gonna get more into it in a part two post.

That said, you can see already this is the messiest, most contrived bullshit to ever wind up in LO. It's trying so hard to be smart and it just comes across as a bunch of toddlers in the world's worst stage play rendition of Clue. None of what was done here was in any way dramatic or tense, it's just a bunch of characters infodumping shit we already know, trying to set up new plot threads that don't make any sense, and allowing one another to get away with what they're doing because they don't bother to even try.

It's completely manufactured, contrived nonsense. It's not "smart", it's not "so dumb it's brilliant", it's just dumb.

youtube

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #this is the comic that bought two eisners #uh i mean *won* two eisners #... no wait i had it right the first time lmao

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cuffmeinblack · 11 months

Text

Amongst the buttercups

Part 2 of Out of bounds - ao3 link for all parts

Garreth Weasley x f!reader

Tags: explicit | fluff | first date | outdoor sex | multiple orgasms 4.9k words

Summary: After sharing your first kiss the week before, you finally go on a date with Garreth. As it turns out, he's quite the romantic.

A/n: There's not much plot-wise so could be read as a standalone.

Had you imagined it? You were pretty sure you had spent an evening sneaking into Professor Weasley's chambers last week. You were almost certain you'd kissed Garreth Weasley and agreed to go on a date with him. So the question remained; why hadn't he asked you yet?

You'd been waiting for days for him to arrange the fabled excursion into Hogsmeade, nervously casting him glances during your shared lessons. On more than one occasion you'd caught him looking and he'd blushed and looked away when you met his eyes. Something was wrong and you had decided to get to the bottom of it.

Cornering him after Herbology, you pulled him spluttering and mumbling to the huge tree that stood between the greenhouses, surrounded by a lily-filled pond. Tucked out of sight, there sat a stone bench often frequented by couples looking for a little privacy between lessons, though it was thankfully empty at this pivotal moment. Your heart hammered in your chest as you came to a stop next to the seat, immediately rounding on Garreth who looked back at you with wide eyes.

"What's going on, Garreth?" you asked.

"Hah, what do you mean?" he replied, smiling warmly in an attempt to feign ignorance.

"You know exactly what I mean. We…kissed. And now you're just ignoring that it ever happened. Do you…regret it?"

His eyes widened even further, practically bulging out of their sockets as he shook his head frantically.

"No…no! Of course I don't. Honestly, I just…don't know what I'm doing," he sighed, looking distinctly uncomfortable and lacking his usual self-assuredness.

"I thought we were just going to go to Hogsmeade. We've been there dozens of times," you said quietly.

Garreth cast a glance around to make sure there were no stray students around to catch snippets of your conversation before stepping closer to you. The movement caught you by surprise and you inhaled sharply, taking in his usual scent now blended with the earthy smell of the soil he’d been handling moments ago.

"We've been as friends,” he sighed. “Merlin…I don't know the etiquette. I asked Leander about it but he's even more hopeless than I am. Then I asked my brother but he hasn't replied yet and…"

"Garreth, you're overthinking it,” you said, cutting across his monologue. “I just want to spend time with you. Alone. Hold hands and…you know..."

Garreth smiled, his eyes glittering as he watched you blush under his gaze. He was close enough to touch, and close enough to hear when he whispered next to your ear.

"Want to do that now?"

Your reply was a whimper as he closed the small gap between you, the grin falling from his lips as his face set into a serious and intense expression. His lips were on yours before you could answer his question; purely rhetorical, then.

Your hands flew to his hair, always so soft and tempting, as you melted into the kiss. You’d missed his lips. The past few days had seemed like a confusing, frustrating eternity full of vivid daydreams and unbearable tension. Finally, finally his hands encircled your waist, pulling you against him with a strength that betrayed his desires as your mouths met in a heated exchange of tongues.

Kissing Garreth was effortless, your mind and body relaxing and completely giving over to the moment—your bodies fit together so perfectly, your lips slotted against one another and tongues moved in sync. You were so absorbed in pressing yourself against him as closely as humanly possible that you failed to notice the approaching sixth years until it was too late.

“Oh! Sorry, didn’t mean to…intrude,” the girl spluttered, taking in your dishevelled and flushed appearance.

“No problem, we were…just leaving,” Garreth said, adjusting his robes and smoothing his hair.

“We were?” you asked, slightly miffed that he’d let a couple of younger students spoil your fun.

Garreth gave you a cheeky smile and winked, setting your heart racing and skin tingling as he laced his fingers with yours to guide you out of the greenhouses. He had no intention of stopping, merely finding somewhere more private to continue your entanglement.

That kiss had opened the floodgates. Every spare moment you had, you now spent glued to Garreth's lips, anticipating your official date at the weekend. Could you call yourself his girlfriend yet? You didn't discuss it; there was little time to talk when your mouths were so otherwise occupied.

When the weekend finally came, Garreth had channeled his nervous energy into pure enthusiasm. You walked into the common room in the morning to find him waiting by the portrait hole, dressed in casual breeches, a cotton shirt and waistcoat and clutching a colourful posy in his hands. He looked casually handsome, and oddly clean—his hair freshly washed and brushed and not a speck of potion residue or soot on him.

Garreth grinned, his gaze drifting over you slowly and incredibly obviously as you approached him.

"You look beautiful," he said, holding out the wildflower posy.

"Thank you. You look very handsome," you replied shyly, taking and smiling fondly at his gift.

You wondered if his brother had suggested the tiny hand picked bouquet or whether it was something he'd thought of, but the way he watched you nervously as you sniffed the flowers made you think it might have been the latter.

“They’re beautiful,” you smiled. “I’ll keep them next to my bed.”

With a swift kiss on his cheek which left him grinning and glancing around the common room, you ran up the stairs to your dormitory to deposit your flowers into a small vase on your nightstand, admiring the display with a fuzzy warmth in your chest. Hurtling back down the steps, you bounded up to Garreth who captured you in his arms.

“Ready?” he asked.

Would you ever be ready for a first date with your best friend of several years? Probably not, but the nervous anticipation was eating at you. You nodded and he swept you out of the room and once safely past the portrait he clasped your hand in a firm grip. It certainly felt strange holding his hand, but immensely comforting—you were practically giddy, trying hard to suppress the grin you felt tugging at the sides of your mouth.

The weather was glorious, the conversation much as it always was, with the slightest hint of hesitation. Garreth seemed to be contemplating something—most likely he was overthinking, wondering what piece of stifling courting etiquette he should be following at that precise moment. Were they walking too closely? Should he be holding your hand?

"Want to erm…have some tea and cake?" Garreth asked nervously as you crossed the bridge into the village.

"Did Leander suggest that?"

"Well, yes, actually."

You sighed and shook your head with a reassuring smile.

"Let's have a look around Zonko's, there's something I've been meaning to show you."

Garreth relaxed slightly at the suggestion, clearly not keen on the idea of the stuffy little tearoom when there was a joke shop to peruse. His hand was slightly sweaty as you guided him towards the cheerful shopfront, stopping by the window to admire the colourful display of boxing telescopes.

The item you were looking for was situated at the back of the shop, amongst the more serious items that didn't cause mild injury or a fire hazard. Garreth's eyes drifted over the display of fireworks with interest and you smiled fondly, tugging his hand to the shelf in front of you.

"A…quill?" Garreth asked, scanning the shelf.

"The ink turns invisible after a short time and can be revealed with a simple incantation. It's meant as a prank but I thought if you're going to write notes on dubious potions, maybe use this so it doesn't get confiscated again?" you suggested, picking up a box.

"Brilliant! But having those confiscated worked out pretty well, didn't it?" he said with a cheeky wink.

You tried not to smile too widely, looking away and smirking. "I suppose it did."

Garreth's eyes lingered on you as you pretended to read the back of the quill box before placing it in his hands. You met his gaze and couldn't suppress the blush that crept across your cheeks or the way he made your pulse race. Merlin, if all he had to do was look at you to make you feel this way, you were doomed.

After a detour to the display of fireworks, marvelling at their ability to shapeshift into different creatures, Garreth paid for his new troublemaking aid and suggested a trip to Honeydukes next. The sweet shop was a short walk away through the main square, which was humming with activity as patrons enjoyed the sunshine and spilled out of the tearoom onto the cobbles.

The cake did look delicious, but you'd rather procure some chocolate and enjoy it somewhere a little more quiet. The air was filled with the scents of the various shops surrounding the square; sweets, tea, cake and even shoe polish. Your senses were bombarded, the musician making an almighty racket above the excited chatter so Garreth had to shout into your ear to be heard.

"Want to dance?" he asked.

You'd thought you'd misheard him, so you asked him to repeat the question, but he really was asking you to dance. A wide grin broke out on your face at the ridiculous request, but his earnest smile and excited eyes had you melting into submission—with a theatrical roll of your eyes and small giggle, you agreed with a nod of your head.

"I can't dance, you know," you shouted.

"I'm not fantastic, but it's fine. Come here!"

Garreth pulled you towards him, looping a hand around your waist and pulling you impossibly close to him. You stumbled, trying to avoid stepping on his toes, placing your free hand on his arm, slightly distracted by his firm muscles underneath the thin cotton.

The music was jaunty, definitely not made for a waltz, but Garreth spun you around the cobbles with enthusiasm, narrowly avoiding the crowds. It was ridiculous and exhilarating—you barely stopped laughing for the duration of the song, your cheeks hurting from smiling. Both out of breath, you came to a stop as the music died and onlookers rushed forth to tip the musician, casting amused glances your way.

Garreth was flushed across his cheeks, blowing stray hairs out of his face with a puff of his cheeks. Not letting your hand go, his other slipped from your waist to undo the top buttons of his shirt in an attempt to cool down, having the absolute opposite effect on you. His pink tinge continued down to his chest, covered in freckles and a smattering of copper hair that peeked out of his shirt.

"I don't think we'll be winning any competitions anytime soon but that was fun," he said, breaking you out of your stupor.

"It was," you agreed, fanning yourself with your hand. "We should tip the musician, come on."

A few sickles poorer, you departed the square for the slightly quieter refuge of Honeydukes sweet shop. You'd been here dozens of times with Garreth and knew his favourites, and he yours. Whilst he made a beeline for the chocolate frogs, you picked up a box of honeycomb and perused the lollipops with different magical effects. You were contemplating one which made your tongue tingle before you were interrupted by a familiar face appearing at your side.

"Oh, hello Natty!"

Natty had an armful of treats and a wide smile plastered on her face; a knowing smile that made you narrow your eyes.

"Hello…having fun?" she asked, scanning the shop floor.

"Yes, thanks. And Garreth is just getting some frogs, if that's who you're looking for."

"Mhmm, how's it going? Your date?"

You shushed her, furtively glancing around to signs of the redhead as you moved closer to Natty.

"Very well, I think? We just…danced. It was silly, really, but…"

"Well, you're blushing and haven't stopped smiling since I asked you about him so I had assumed it was going well," she said, her dark eyes sparkling.

"I'm just blushing because we were dancing! And it's very hot…"

"Oh, you're smitten! I'll leave you to your date, then. Have fun," she said, turning to take her bundle of items to the till without giving you a chance to reply to the accusation.

Smitten? Is that what you were? The thought didn't have time to fully form before Garreth appeared out of nowhere with a stack of frogs and a small box in the shape of a heart. You looked at the little box of truffles, blinking dumbly until he spoke.

"Thought I'd get something a little different for our first official date. I might be useless at this sort of thing but I assume you still like…fancy chocolates?" he asked, jostling the box.

"I…of course, but I don't want you to spend money on me."

"Come on, let me treat you a little!" he said, a pleading look in his brilliant green eyes.

"I'm starting to think you're a hopeless romantic, Garreth."

He chuckled and shuffled the boxes around into one arm, scooping up your hand with another and planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

"Maybe I am."

You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing, the skin on your hand tingling.

"You can buy them if I can get my own treats. I'm not having you spending all of your money on me."

"Deal," he agreed, slotting your fingers together and pulling you off to pay.

On the way, your eyes lingered on the lollipop display, deciding to pick one up to try later and adding it to your pile. The sugar-filled treats you left the shop with were likely enough to slip you both into a coma, but it didn't stop you from popping into The Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer.

The buzz from the weak alcohol settled both of your nerves—the day felt like any other of your trips into the village with the bonus of Garreth's ridiculous flirting and being able to kiss his soft lips whenever you liked. Which happened to be a lot. The haze of the stiflingly hot pub seemed to help the alcohol work quicker, or perhaps it was simply the heat making your head swim.

"Shall we sit outside?" you suggested, running a slightly sweaty hand through your hair.

Garreth sipped the last of his drink, peering over the glass at you as he nodded in agreement. The day was drawing to a close by the time you left the pub, happily tipsy with a fuzzy warmth that may have had nothing to do with the drinks. You let Garreth lead you to wherever he wanted as you talked—whether he was wandering aimlessly or having a destination in mind, you weren't sure.

Once out of the village, he led you through a kissing gate into an overgrown field turned to meadow, clearly the destination he's used for flower-picking for your posy. The long grass was full of poppies, cow parsley and buttercups in full bloom and the hum of the busy town had dissipated into a buzz of bees and butterflies feasting on the abundant flora.

Garreth was absolutely an unabashed romantic, bringing you to such a beautiful place at the end of a perfect date. He pulled out the heart-shaped box of truffles from his bag, dumping the satchel on the ground and settling into the grass. He patted the ground next to him and offered you a warm and slightly wonky smile and you threw yourself next to him, immediately enveloped by his arm.

"Chocolate?" he asked, offering the delicate little dusted truffles to you.

Picking one at random, you popped it in your mouth and hummed as the oozing centre covered your tongue then started crackling. Smiling at the popping candy hitting the roof of your mouth, you savoured the creamy chocolate before swallowing and immediately sticking your tongue out at Garreth.

"Can 'ou hear ih?" you asked him, pointing at your tongue.

Garreth laughed and dipped his head towards you, nodding as he heard the soft crackling. You were so busy being unreasonably excited by the surprise addition to your sweet that the addition of Garreth's tongue to your mouth took you completely by surprise. A muffled 'oh' was captured by his mouth as he cupped the back of your head before you melted into the kiss.

The sweet kisses tinged with chocolate and butterbeer in the fragrant meadow were the best of your life. They weren't awkward first kisses or frantic ones exchanged in dark corridors or empty classrooms; they were full of affection, slow and exploratory and completely perfect. You were only aware of the sun setting by the dimming light as you opened your eyes slightly, the sky turned a warm orange.

Garreth made a small noise of disappointment as you pulled away, making you chuckle as you regarded him in the glow. The light suited him, intensifying his copper hair and warming his freckled skin. You were incredibly thankful for the long grass and dimming sky as your stomach fluttered and core ached for him, throwing yourself back into his arms with reckless abandon.

He moaned in response and held tightly onto your waist, laying you back gently on the grass as his leg slotted between your own and he positioned himself half on top of you. His hand drifted to your hips, continuing its journey down your thighs and slipping under the heavy fabric of your skirt, and as his warm hands met your bare skin, you shuddered with anticipation.

"Sorry, got a little carried away," Garreth mumbled, his cheeks flushed and a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

"I don't want you to stop," you replied, completely seriously.

A fire ignited behind his eyes at your admission and he kissed you again with a fervour that took your breath away. His hand left your thigh to fiddle with your blouse and you joined him, making quick work of the buttons and shrugging out of the top, moving onto his own waistcoat and shirt. Garreth broke your kiss to glance down as you undid the laced ribbon your stay, letting the corset fall open to expose your breasts as you ran your hand over his broad chest, eyes following the trail of hair down to the bulge in his trousers.

A hungry growl left his throat as his strong hand gripped your breast, his palm kneading and thumb brushing your peaked nipple as he kissed you again. Your hips ground together, the friction you found against his thigh creating a pool of slick in your undergarments as his erection pressed painfully into your own leg.

The heat between your bodies radiated and became trapped, your skin burning with arousal and glistening with sweat. Your head was spinning as his hand slid around your behind with a bruising grip, pulling you against him harder and harder with every movement of your hips. Garreth felt good pressed against you, but you needed more.

You slipped your hand between your bodies to tug at his waistband, frantic and buzzing with tension. Sensing your growing frustration, he took his weight off of you, allowing your fingers access to undo his trouser buttons. You muttered an expletive as you looked down as he sighed, his erection finally released from the pressure of the fabric, growing another inch in response.

"You're…"

"Yes, I don't tend to, um, wear underwear. Chafes, you know," he replied, slightly abashed.

You certainly weren't complaining at the fact as his freed erection fell into your hand. Fuck, he was big, you thought, feeling the weight. You noticed he curved upwards slightly as you ran your fingers along the length.

"Shit," he muttered.

Part of you revelled in how easily he was wound up by your purposely gentle touch, whilst the other, altogether more vocal part of you wanted him to take you right here and now. Teasing was fun, but Merlin, he was irresistible. Grasping him firmly, you moved your hand slowly and steadily, Garreth letting out a deep and satisfied moan that made the ache between your legs pulse needily.

Garreth still had his hand clamped firmly on your backside, gently massaging your flesh in time with the tugs you gave with your hand. His eyes were half closed as he looked upon you, dazed and in a blissful world of his own.

"That feels…so good," he sighed.

The moan you let slip seemed to awaken him, his grip on your behind releasing and hand drifting round to your hips, skimming the sensitive skin of your pelvis under the waistband of your underwear. Whether he was teasing or nervous, you weren't sure—he hesitated, fingers stilling as your hand slowed in response.

"Please touch me," you all but begged, your hand still rhythmically pumping.

Garreth slipped his hand under your garment, between your thighs and pressed roughly through your folds to find the pool of arousal that drenched the cotton. He mumbled something you couldn't quite make out, but it sounded like a prayer. His surprisingly soft fingers glided over your clit, swollen and achingly sensitive to the touch, sending shocks through your abdomen.

"Stop…," he muttered, and you searched his eyes questioningly. "Your hand. Unless you want me to..."

You loosened your grip and pulled your hand away gently, the teasing thumb you ran over his dripping head seeming to ignite something inside him. He fell to your side, his cock pressing into your thigh once again as he picked up the pace of his fingers, tracing small circles around your nub. You were surprised at his dexterity, his hand working you in a steady rhythm as he placed gentle kisses on your neck, absolutely concentrated on your pleasure.

You sighed his name softly, captured by the swaying grasses surrounding you. It was better than anything you could have achieved by your own hand, because it was him. You let yourself become absorbed by the sweet and slightly musky scent of his sweat-laced hair until he felt your face turning towards him, meeting your lips with his in a breathy kiss. You were teetering on the edge, ready to fall at the merest suggestion.

"Garreth…," you whispered into his mouth.

"Mmm, are you close?"

You nodded and whimpered, your lips brushing together as you did.

"That’s it…let it go."

You tensed before your orgasm crashed over you, your hips instinctively pressing into his hand to the rhythm of the pulses of pleasure rippling through your body. You held him tight, kissed him fiercely and fought for breath against the tide, entirely consumed with pleasure. Slowly, your senses returned as the waves ebbed and you sought his eyes, telling him wordlessly how incredible he'd made you feel.

Your heart swelled, ecstatic but your appetite not entirely sated until you’d had all of him, and to be completely his. Pulling him by his neck, you guided him back on top of you, his glittering eyes searching yours for an answer to a question he so desperately wanted to ask.

"Are we really…?" Garreth mumbled.

"Yes, I want you," you whispered.

"Shit. I mean, I-I want you, too. Have you ever…"

"Yes. Have you?"

"Erm, yes. Once…who with?" he frowned.

"Really? You want to have this conversation now?" you asked incredulously as his erection pressed painfully against your hip.

"No!" he said, shaking his head with wide eyes.

Garreth looked nervously around the meadow, but you were completely and utterly alone. Apparently satisfied that weren't about to expose yourself to the village, he got to work unbuttoning your skirt and slipping it down your legs. He ran his hands over your exposed hips, utterly entranced as his cock twitched needily.

Your drenched undergarments came off next, and you bit your lip nervously at being laid so bare before him, though his reaction settled your nerves quickly. He muttered a string of expletives that would've made his mother blush as he drank you in. His hand found his swollen and dripping erection as you salivated at the sight of him gripping himself whilst towering over you.

He lowered himself between your legs gently, lining the tip of his cock up with your soaking entrance and meeting your eyes. You nodded, prompting him to continue and he pressed his head inside you, slowly. The gasp you let out was muffled by his mouth, and you wrapped your arms around him eagerly, lacing your fingers through his soft hair as he pushed deeper.

He felt incredible, sending a pulse of pleasurable anticipation through your abdomen as your stomach twisted and heart ached all at once. You'd wanted him for so long it felt like it would never happen. Friendship was fine, but there was no going back from this.

He pulled back almost completely before plunging into you again, moaning into your mouth as your tongues wet each other's lips in a sloppy and heated kiss. You drew your legs up as he settled into a rhythm with his thrusts, pushing deeper each time, testing how much of him you could take. Every time he drove into you, your head dizzied and body shivered.

"Mmph-...oh darling, you feel amazing," Garreth groaned.

His pace quickened steadily, leaving no time for recovery; your body building to its peak again so quickly you were unable to control the loud moans leaving your mouth.

"Someone'll…hear us," Garreth said between shuddering breaths.

"How can I…be quiet…when you're fucking me like this?!" hissed back at him, staring into his eyes with an intensity that made his own bulge in surprise.

"Fuck."

You pulled his hair hard as he bucked his hips, thrusting into you with so much force you felt the ground underneath you shift. His grip on your backside was deliciously bruising, kneading your flesh in rhythm to his movements. Your gazes were still fixed on each other, the swell of emotions his emerald eyes brought forth threatening to overwhelm you as you fought back tears.

"You feel s-so good…so good," you stammered. "I'm going to…oh, yes."

Your walls clenched around his cock as you climaxed again, the orgasm so much more satisfying with him inside you to share the pleasure with. His arms began to shake as an intense frown crossed his face, his thrusts becoming urgent and rhythm breaking down.

"I'm going to…"

"Don't you dare come inside me, Garreth Weasley."

"You're not…?"

You shook your head at his unanswered question—you had not expected to end up having intimate relations with Garreth in a meadow when you agreed to come on a date with him. Not that you minded at all, but you hadn't made certain…preparations.

"Shit," he whispered, hips still thrusting.

His legs followed his arms and began to quiver as he approached his climax and you smacked his shoulder in warning. He pulled out of you, ripping a regretful moan out of your throat as you yearned for the fullness he'd given you. Garreth was already grinding against your hip, desperately seeking his release as you met his thrusts, his slick cock sliding between your skin.

You took his face in your hands, fingers gripping the flyaway strands of copper hair as you looked into his eyes, full of something that felt suspiciously like love.

"Come on, Garreth. Come for me."

That was all the encouragement he needed as his orgasm exploded between your bodies. You gasped as he finished, the first pulse of his cock shooting his load over your breast, then more and more spilled from the tip, covering your stomach. Garreth's moans eventually softened, his thrusts slowing as the waves subsided. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his length to squeeze the last drops onto your skin, never breaking eye contact as he hovered over you, breathing heavily.

Garreth looked around, his eyes widening as he remembered where you were, but you were thankfully still alone. He returned his gaze to you splayed out underneath him, your chest heaving and covered in his seed. You followed his eyes, whimpering at just how messy you were, trails lacing your skin and pooling in your contours and belly button.

"You look…incredible. Just…," he muttered.

Smiling up at him, you sighed, placing your hands above your head and unashamedly let him take all of you in. He blinked, as if snapping out of a trance and inhaled sharply.

"Oh…Godric. Sorry…"

"You need to stop apologising after something amazing happens.”

“No, I wasn’t sorry for that. I am for the uh…mess,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“Well I might need a little help cleaning up," you replied, gesturing to your torso.

Garreth tore his eyes away from your body, giving you a quick nod before pulling out his wand from his discarded clothes and vanishing the offending mess, though your skin remained faintly sticky. You pulled your clothes back on as Garreth did the same, both absorbed in your own thoughts. There would be time to wash later, remembering and contemplating under the hot water—for now, you needed Garreth’s embrace more than anything.

He seemed to feel the same, laying back on the grass and opening his arms for you to crawl into, meeting him in a sweetly passionate kiss as his strong hands enveloped you once again. It was nighttime now, the air getting chilly with only your body heat to keep you warm, but neither of you suggested leaving. Something groundbreaking had happened and you wanted the moment to last forever—there was now no doubt in your mind that you were in love with your best friend.

#weasley wednesday #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x you #garreth weasley fanfiction #garreth weasley smut

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mrsaltieri-real · 10 months

Text

Partner in Crime (Victim!Mickey Altieri X Ghostface!Reader)

Reader is AFAB

Word count: 5.3k

Warning/s: ghostface!reader, “victim!mickey” (kinda not really though), blood, gore, gruesome murder descriptions, changes to canon scream 2 (obviously), violence, language, smut, p in v, blood kink, riding, choking, slight orgasm denial, teasing, biting, reader is bat shit crazy and so is Mickey, lying, deception, partners in crime (duh), etc

God this took me a long ass time but it’s worth it because I LOVE how it came out. Took a LOT of trial and error from my part trying to capture this just right but we finally got there and I can post this. I am so so excited about this fic.

Once again thank you to the gorgeous @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing this for me and helping me with ideas to make this come out just right. Could NOT have done this without you Bex <3

On that note, LETS FUCKING GO.

“Who could be doing this?” Sidney mused quietly, elbow propped on the rustic wood of the bench she sat on, hand resting on her forehead. “I mean, how could this possibly be happening again?”

Derek sat beside her, hand rubbing small soothing circles into her back, Hallie looked at her sympathetically and Randy was gently biting at the loose skin of his thumb, eyes scanning the crowd. Mickey seemed to be in his own little world, gazing at the hubbub of cameramen and reporters bustling around the college square, his fingers absentmindedly drumming on your thigh. Your eyes were set on Sidney’s anxious face trying to resist the urge to smile at her fear, everything in her body language was communicating the tension and unease inside her.

All of this was way, way too easy. After discovering last year that the survivors of the Woodsbro massacre were attending Windsor, you’d found yourself intensely curious and decided to transfer there from your previous college. You’d easily managed to fit into their friend group within about a month of being there and eagerly put your plan in motion.

It had been easier than you’d anticipated to get most of them, especially Randy and Mickey to tell you just about everything you didn’t know, making sure to spread your questions over the course of a few weeks rather all at once. You didn’t want suspicion to arise due to overly keen and pressing curiosity, so it was just small things only being spoken about if another member of the group brought it up. So, whenever Randy brought up in a pissed off tone anything about Billy Loomis, you’d casually slide in a question, like “Why would he even do something like that?” or “How did it happen?“ and Randy would eagerly start chatting like a parrot, telling you just about everything you needed to know under the guise of your concerned friend act.

It was almost amusing how easy it all was.

“I don’t know, Sid.” Derek sighed, looking with nothing but undiluted fear at his anxious girlfriend. “But they’ll find the sick fuck.”

“Honestly, it might have nothing to do with you.” Mickey spoke up, dragging his eyes away from the bustling crowd. Sidney’s eyes flickered to Mickey and she frowned, brow creased as she questioned him.

“Two kids who attended our college got carved up by someone in a Ghostface costume and you think it doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to Randy and I?”

Mickey shrugged, stopping the drumming on your thigh and leaned forward on the bench. “I don’t know, Sid. But it was opening night for a movie based on real events. Maybe someone was just playing some kind of sick joke and it just went too far?”

“Wow. You’ve had a lot of time to think about alternatives haven’t you, Mickey?” Randy spoke up, eyes narrowing at him. Your gaze moved from Sidney’s anguished face and focused on Randy’s.

“What are you implying, Randy?” You asked in a clipped tone.

“I’m not implying anything.” He muttered and you felt your nails cut into your palm as your hands clenched into tight fists.

“Calm down, Randy.” Hallie rolled her eyes at him with a scoff, “I saw Mickey in the library last night.”

Randy muttered something that sounded like, “Sure whatever”, under his breath and you had to bite the inside of your cheeks so you didn’t rip him apart right then and there.

You couldn’t begin to describe the sudden unbearable rage you felt when Randy had even hinted at Mickey being the killer. From the day you’d met him, you’d felt yourself utterly drawn to and infatuated with everything about him. There was an all too familiar darkness about him, about his aura that caused you to magnetise yourself to him, refusing to break away no matter what. Did anyone else suspect Mickey? Your eyes scanned the faces of your ‘friends’ but the conversation continued between the four of them, slowly merging into something else entirely and you felt nothing but Mickey’s anxious eyes set on your face.

“You alright, baby?” He asked, feeling his large hand covering your tightly clenched one and you quickly blinked, flashing him a small smile.

“Yeah, of course I am. Why?” You asked as innocently as you could muster, praying that you came off as genuine.

He raised his eyebrows a little and pointedly looked down at your other hand gripping the edge of the bench so hard your nails seemed almost permanently embedded in the cracked wood. You moved your hand quickly and shook it out as you sighed. “I’m fine.” You assured him, lightly pressing your palm against his stubbly cheek. “I’ve got a class in a few so I should get going.” You announced to the group and you felt all of them glance at you.

“I’ll walk you.” Mickey said, standing up from the bench and grabbing his bag and video camera.

“No, no it’s fine.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, lightly pushing him back down onto the bench as you were shaking your head. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m sure the big bad monster isn’t going to attack me while I walk to class in the middle of the day.”

You lightly pecked him on the lips before turning on your heel and walking to class, feeling suspicious brown eyes watching you all the while.

—————————-————————-————

“So, you gonna tell me what the hell has been going on with you?”

You gasped, jumping as your hand clutched your chest and you glared up at Mickey, who was leaning against the wall outside your lecture hall. “Have you been waiting out here the whole time I was in there?” You asked with a frown.

“No,” Mickey lied and swiftly took your books out of your hands before you could stop him as he began to walk, begrudgingly you begin following after him. “So, are you?”

“Nothing is going on with me.” You insisted, rolling your eyes. “Why would you assume there is?”

“You’re not anywhere near as mysterious as you think, babe.” A smile toyed on his lips as you both walked down the hall, his free hand lightly resting on your hip.

“And you’re not nearly as intuitive as you think you are.” You muttered under your breath. He let out a frustrated groan before tugging you by the loop of your jeans into an empty classroom.

“Seriously, what is with you lately? You seem…” Mickey hesitated a little, teeth sinking into his bottom lip before he spoke again “…Different. You keep brushing me off whenever I ask to hang out and you always seem like you're kind of somewhere else. I’m worried about you.”

“Mick, I’m just really busy.” You sighed, lightly removing his hands from your body. I’ve got a dissertation due in a few days, and-“ you cut yourself off for a second, realisation hitting.

You knew Mickey far too well. As laid back as he was, you knew deep down he worried about you far too much. His analytical and downright clingy behaviour must’ve been down to one thing and one thing only. The murders he had no idea you were committing. You let out some air from your mouth and looked up at him with a sudden fondness.

“Is this because of what happened to those two kids?” You asked, tilting your head at him.

“You’re distracted.” He said simply, shrugging a little. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, that’s all.” You couldn’t help the soft smile that lit up your face as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up on your toes to affectionately kiss him. You felt him relax a little, relief evident in the way he kissed you back, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your skin from over your shirt.

“Nothing is going to happen to me.” You assured, your voice absolutely certain as you pulled back to look him in the eye. “I promise. And nothings going to happen to you either.”

“I’m not worried about me.” He mumbled insistently pressing his forehead to yours.

You sighed a little, moving your hand down to his and intertwining your fingers together. “I mean it, Mick. You have nothing to worry about. I can practically guarantee it.”

Mickey looked you up and down, confusion evident on his face at the way you’d spoken and you quickly changed the subject. “Are you going to the Delta Lambda party tonight?”

“Of course, why? Are you not?”

“No, no I’ll be there. I’m just making sure you’ll be. I might be a little late though I have some more work to do on my dissertation and call my dad. He’s worried given everything going on, you know?” You internally sighed. Now you’d actually have to fucking call him to stay true to your alibi. Great.

“I can wait with you and we can go together.”

You felt your teeth grind together and you wracked your brain for some kind of excuse.

“Mickey.” You said gently, looking at him sympathetically. “Randy’s suspecting you...” -another situation you’ll no doubt have to deal with sooner rather than later. “- so I think you need to stay within his sights for a while. You know how he gets. No doubt he’ll start stalking you so it’s probably best just to stay on top of that.”

Mickey looked unconvinced by your reasoning and something odd crossed his features but disappeared just as quickly as it came. “Alright, babe. I’ll be there the whole time.”

Mickey’s eyes flickered out toward the sound of a laugh and he rolled his eyes, making you turn to see what he was looking at.

“Why are you looking at Cici Cooper like that?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just something she said in my film class.” Mickey said dismissively but you pressed, frowning.

“What did she say?“

“In a nutshell? My ideas on film and cinema are stupid. Apparently I’m biased because I believe there are a lot of sequels that are better than their original.” Mickey shrugged a little.

Your frown deepened.

Mickey had always been heavily passionate about films and extremely defensive about the films he loved. It may have been a tiny insult to any other person but anybody talking about Mickey in a way that was even somewhat negative? With the bloodlust you felt right now?

Well, it’s just a fucking recipe for disaster.

—————————-————————-————

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Randy slurred a little as he spoke to Mickey, flopping down beside him with a loud huff. Mickey recoiled slightly at the uncomfortable closeness.

“When I left her dorm she was talking to her dad. He seemed really worried so she might take a while getting here.”

“Hm.” Randy hummed, unamused and unconvinced before taking another sip of his drink.

“What, Randy.” Mickey sighed. “Got any more theories? Think she’s the killer now?”

Randy laughed too loudly and shook his head with a dismissive wave of his hand that wasn’t holding his drink. “Her? The killer? Please.” Randy leaned back. “No way she could’ve taken down a guy as big as Phil Stevens.”

Mickey nodded slightly, completely dissociating after Randy confirmed he didn’t suspect her.

But did Mickey?

He thought for a second about your behaviour leading up to the deaths of those two students. You were erratic, excited and ridiculously horny. Your sex drive had been so high for a week prior that even he was beginning to struggle to keep up. It had been kinkier than ever, and you were oddly dominating in a way Mickey wasn’t at all used to. He was used to being the one in control but recently, it was like you were a completely different person. It would be messy and rough. You’d bite him, scratch him and leave marks all over him just as he enjoyed doing to you. The give and take was a lot more fun than he would’ve anticipated. It never crossed his mind that someone as sweet as you could have this much of a sexually repressed edge.

Of course, he didn’t complain. He liked that you were comfortable enough with him to bring it out. This side to you was just as exciting as it was endearing to him. But then after the murders, it didn’t change. It built up more and more. You’d come back to his dorm after “studying”, eyes bright and almost menacing and practically pounced on him. In all honesty, it was probably the best sex the two of you had ever had.

But after that night, it changed drastically in a very different way. You’d stopped touching him, started avoiding him. You became more on edge and agitated yet ten times more focused.

He would never tell anyone about these changes he’d witnessed in you, but he was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed. He paid so much attention to you day to day that even the slightest change couldn’t go past him. And now? What the fuck were you really doing?

Randy was distracted, leaning over the arm of the couch and chatting to some girl. Mickey almost laughed at his lack of game before standing up, deciding to go and check on you. Something didn’t quite add up in his mind and he was going to find out what it was even if it killed him.

——————-————————-—————————

The undiluted pleasure spreading through you spurred you on as you stabbed Cici in the torso, her feeble attempts to fight you off fading every time the blade in your hand came down and plunged the cold steel deep into her.

Tormenting her via the phone call was fun, but this was ten times better. Perhaps she didn’t deserve this, she was only messing around with Mickey in class. It was a debate about films after all. But that didn’t matter to you. The fact she’d insulted someone that was yours made killing this sweet girl all the more fulfilling. Besides, you needed to kill someone whilst Mickey had an ironclad alibi. You didn’t need him on anyone's suspect list.

You watched in glee as the light in her eyes turned into a blank, glossy stare and brought the knife down once more, directly into her throat. She let out a muffled gargle and her mouth went slack. Cici’s fingers and legs twitched a couple of more times before you heard the release of air burst through her lips and just like that, she was dead. You moved from straddling her to stand over her as you wiped the blood off of the blade with your gloved hand.

“Stupid bitch.” You muttered, eyes quickly scanning your surroundings before removing the mask, sighing and cracking your neck.

You’d caught your first two victims, Phil and Maureen completely off guard, so although it had been fun to kill them, they were almost too easy to overpower and that took away from it a little. It made it almost boring in comparison to this. Cici on the other hand? The slight blonde girl had put up quite the fight. She’d kicked and scratched, she’d screamed and tried her best to fight you off of her to no avail. Your bloodlust made her absolutely no match for you.

You finally understood why Billy Loomis and Stu Macher had called their victims to taunt them first. The taste of satisfaction on your tongue was almost overwhelming, the sight of her crying, begging for you to spare her made you feel a way you’d never felt before.

Whilst you were revelling in your victory you heard the snap of a twig and your head snapped in the direction, the Ghostface mask gripped tight between your fingers.

“Mickey?” You gasped his name as he walked toward you, eyes huge and mouth open while he looked from Cici’s badly mutilated corpse and to your shocked face.

“It’s you? You’re the killer?”

To your surprise, he didn’t sound angry, or surprised. He didn’t look disgusted or even the slightest bit afraid. He looked… Almost curious. His intrigued brown eyes finally focused on your face after they dragged up from the girl lying dead on the ground.

“I..” you couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought as you stuttered. The last thing you wanted was to kill him, not Mickey. Not your Mickey. As he stepped closer, your hands instinctively lifted the knife and pointed it at him defensively and his hands rose, palms up. “You’re not going to fucking tell anyone.”

Mickey’s expression turned from intrigued to almost offended. “You think I would?”

You gave him a doubtful look but didn’t drop your guard, eyes monitoring his every move as he asked, “Baby, why?”

You frowned at him, tilting your head. “Why Cici or why am I doing this?” You felt frustrated, a raise of your hands and a shake of your head as you said, “Whatever, I don’t have time for this. Why the fuck did you leave the party, Mickey? I told you to stay there. That was your goddamn alibi so no one would suspect you.”

“I…I came to look for you,” His finger pointed in the direction of your building that was about a five minute walk from the sorority. “-and I heard screams and I was curious. So I walked up here and saw you stabbing the fuck outta Cici.” His shoulders turned up in a slight shrug.

“How the fuck are you acting so normal?” You hissed at him. It was hard not to be suspicious. Mickey was acting as though he caught you cheating on a damn test. This wasn’t normal behaviour for someone who’d just watched his girlfriend brutally gut somebody right in front of him.

He ignored you, asking once again, “Why?”

You sighed, briefly glancing around at your surroundings before your gaze focused back on your intrigued boyfriend. You hesitated a little, unsure what to do with the knife still pointed at him. It felt wrong pointing a weapon at Mickey. You loved him, but how could you let him live now? He was a witness, a loose end, and there’s nothing you hated more than loose ends.

Mickey watched as your face changed into a look of frustration and he lowered his hands, glancing down at the knife before hesitantly taking another step toward you. You didn’t stop him, suddenly needing to feel him closer. When you felt stress like this, you always needed him around. He made you feel better, normal somehow. Well, as normal as you could feel given who you were.

But can you trust him? The small voice in the back of your head muttered to you and you sighed, the agitated desperation evident on your face.

“Does it matter?“ you asked between gritted teeth.

“Baby, I swear I’m not going to tell anyone.” Mickey spoke gently, as though you were a wild animal he was trying to tame.

“How do I know that?” You snapped, glaring up at him.

“Because I wouldn’t do that.” Mickey looked offended at your comment, a small frown taking over his features. “I love you, and I’d never do anything that would put you at risk. Come on baby, you know that!”

“You promise?” You asked cautiously. One thing about Mickey is that he never lied to you. You always knew he had somewhat of an edge due to the movies he watched to his depraved sense of humour. Maybe that’s why you felt so bonded to him. Maybe that’s why you trusted him so entirely with even the darkest parts of yourself you’d never allow anyone else to see. As you felt his hand gently wrap around the knife in yours, you visibly relaxed as he gently pushed your hand down along with the blade, eyes filled with nothing short of admiration as he whispered, “On my life.”

“Okay.” You breathed as you nodded, sweaty hair falling into your eyes. You believed him, but still felt a little tense. Looking at him now, you knew he wouldn’t betray you, he loved you far too much. “I trust you. But Mickey, please go back to the party. I need to make sure you’re not a suspect and it won’t be long before someone stumbles across this.” You gestured down toward the mutilated body about a foot away from the two of you and he nodded thoughtfully.

“I’ll go back. But what do I tell them if they ask where you are?” Mickey frowned again, not liking the thought of them suspecting you. What would he do if you got caught? He’d always needed you but now? He needed you more than ever. He wanted you to tell him everything, how it felt to kill, how you felt when you did it and more importantly why. He’d always had a dark curious side and knowing the woman he loved not only had that too but actively pursued that darkness? No way he could let anything happen to you now. No way you could leave him.

“Try and go back in there without anyone noticing. Call the phone in my dorm and I’ll answer and tell you I fell asleep. That’s the best we can do now if I do become a suspect and they trace my calls.”

Mickey nodded, hands moving to touch the back of your neck with his rough fingers and the other on the small of your back as he pulled you close to him, lips enveloping yours. It was tender and nearly desperate, making you feel weak as he pulled away, a smile on his face as he began hastily walking back in the direction he came.

You watched after him for a few seconds as he slowly disappeared into the black night before pulling off the Ghostface costume, rolling up the mask and knife inside of it, taking one last look at Cici Coopers mangled corpse, smiling in admiration at your work before turning and walking back to your dorm, thinking of all the possibilities that await you now you didn’t have to hide such an enormous part of yourself from the one person you’d never hurt.

—————-————————-—————————

It had been two days since Mickey caught you murdering Cici Cooper, donning the Ghostface costume. Within those two days, he’d been nothing short of bombarding you with questions with the most intense curiosity you’d ever seen. His questions were all about your motive and you told him without hesitation.

“I want to finish what Billy and Stu started-” you’d told him with a small shrug, sitting perched on your countertop as he cleaned the bloody knife you’d used to murder Cici. Watching him do this helps you, he offers to do it for you without prompting and it makes you feel warm, assured in what he said, what he promised, that he wouldn’t tell on you. He is an accomplice now, cleaning your murder weapon, there is a particular domesticity to it that you could really get used to.

“-but I didn’t want to go straight for Sidney and Randy. I knew I needed practice, and how better than to fucking terrify her than to kill people with names of the original victims first and work my way up to them?”

He’d listened intently, utterly fascinated by you and you had to admit, it felt good to be worshipped by someone. Especially Mickey who had zero judgement in him and if anything, desperately wanted to learn more.

You were no longer even slightly uneasy with answering his questions as you’d initially been, willingly responding to each query with heavy detail which he seemed to thrive off, eyes bright and expression keen.

According to Mickey, after he had gone back to the party, it had taken a matter of ten minutes before someone had seen Cici’s dead body and the police had been called. Luckily, nobody had noticed Mickey’s absence, but your small friend group had noticed you were nowhere to be seen. He’d lied smoothly after calling you and quoting what you’d previously told him to say.

The best part of being a woman? Especially one who looked as sweet and innocent as you did? Nobody thought twice about it.

Your original plan to attack Derek and bombard Sidney with hesitation and doubt about her own boyfriend would have to wait for a later date. Mickey’s little discovery had somewhat put a wrench in the works but much to your own surprise, it didn’t bother you. It felt incredible to have someone you could share the darkest parts of yourself with without an ounce of judgement.

And the sex? It had been non-stop since the moment Mickey had walked into your dorm room after he’d been interrogated. It had been intense in ways you’d never imagined. With him knowing everything, you didn’t have to hold back anymore and neither did he. He wanted to fuck you whilst you still had Cici’s blood on your hands and arms, something that did not only catch you by surprise, but instantly turned you on. How could you say no to that? The image of him, smudges of tacky and quickly oxidising scarlet painting his torso, along with hickey’s you left on his neck, shoulders and collarbone, hair a wreck post sex was burned into your brain.

You were straddling Mickey now, both of you stripped completely bare as you had been from the night he found out you were Ghostface, fingers woven through his dark hair as you angled and ground your hips down against him, small sighs falling from your lips as you felt him gliding in and out of your drenched pussy. His head was resting back against the headboard, dark lustful eyes watching your face as you leaned forward and moved your lips against his, his fingers gripping the soft flesh of your hips so hard they were bound to bruise.

“What’s it like?” He asks it softly and you pull back looking down at him, the smile spreads on your face and you ask, “What’s what like?”

Another fall of your hips, enveloping him totally once again, the roll of your body and the rhythm serving you both well, he asks, “What’s, ugh, what’s killing like?”

The laugh breaks out as you slow your pace, “That is what you are thinking about right now?”

You slam yourself down harder and he gasps out, “Yes,” The look in his eyes is practically pleading, “Please, tell me?”

Well how could you deny him?

“You want me to tell you what it feels like to slide cold steel into a warm body?” you whispered to him, one hand sliding from his hair to his throat, finger pressing gently against his racing pulse. “How it feels to see the terror on their face when they realise they’re going to die? Watch the life drain from their eyes?” A small whining sound escaped Mickey’s lips as you moved again, trying to fight the urge to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress as you spoke.

“Yes.” He murmured desperately.

“It’s like sex,” you said gently with another roll of your hips making him groan again as he felt your clit rub against him and your pussy clench around him. The slow, teasing pace you were giving him was driving him crazy, he needed either you to ride him with wreckless abandon, or be able to fuck up into you so hard you’d struggle to take it.

“-there’s something intimate about it. Nothing can compare to the feeling of having someone’s life in your hands and being the one with the power to take it away.” Your hands moved to his throat as you spoke, applying enough pressure so it wouldn’t really hurt him but it would definitely have an impact. He let out nothing short of a growl as you did, fucking up into you even harder.

His rough hands moved from your hips to your ass, kneading the soft flesh and his breath hitched as you began to move faster, eyes watching as your tits bounced in front of his face, thrusting his hips upward to match your pace. He moved one of his hands to slide down your torso, finding your swollen clit and began to move his fingers in small, deliberate circles around your swollen bud, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that he knew teased you in just the right way. You let out a small groan as he did, feeling the pressure begin to build in your stomach for what felt like the hundredth time in the last two days.

“Not yet.” He grunted, fingers slowing to an agonising pace. Even with you straddling him with your hand wrapped around his throat you listened, letting out a small gasp as he gripped your waist, flipping you over so you were on your back with him hoisting your legs around his waist as he started to thrust into you, eyes dark and almost menacing. He liked to be in control and although he knew your secret, it didn’t mean that was going to change.

“I want- fuck- I want to be there next time.” His tone was uneven as he fucked you, pinning your hands above your head with one hand, you groaned into your arm, relishing in the feeling of his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you and the slight stubble of his trimmed pubes grinding against your clit. The pressure was almost unbearable as you tried to fight the instinct to let the pleasure completely envelop you. “And I want to help you.”

This made you snap back into reality for a moment and you leaned your head back, looking at him in shock. “You- you what?”

He didn’t stop but slowed down, releasing your hands and cupping your cheek. “I want to help you,” he repeated, a smile on his beautiful face. “I don’t want you to do this alone. Besides, Billy and Stu did it together. Why don’t we?”

You couldn’t help but let an almost sadistic grin take over your face. Maybe that could work? It would surely help you, and he was right. Billy and Stu worked together and Mickey was definitely twisted enough to be able to pull this off with you. You’d already killed three people solo and just imagining Mickey being there and helping you…

“I need to injure Derek and kill Randy next.” You breathed, smirking a little as you looked up at your boyfriend, legs still wrapped around his waist. You felt him twitch inside of you, anticipation evident on his face as he moved his hand down between the two of you. “I’ll start you off easy with Derek,” you said, voice cracking a little as you began to circle your clit once again. “Don’t kill him, but make it fucking hurt.”

You could hear the smile in Mickey’s voice as he began to roll his hips again, fingers moving expertly across your clit, a small moan falling from between his lips as he felt your teeth sink into the skin of his shoulder hard enough for you to taste his blood.

“I will, but I want to help you kill Meeks too, I wanna see him gutted.”

God, you loved him.

#damn this is my longest one yet #this is the only way I can picture ‘innocent’ Mickey #so here you go!#god i fucking love him #scream #mickey altieri #scream 2 #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri x you

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years

Text

From This Day, Part 2/2 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is a Part 2/2, and an overall Part 5 of an ongoing series. Part 1-4 can be found on the "Growing Strong” Masterlist, which is pinned on my blog. For some reason, my public tags aren’t working today when I try to link those two posts here. ᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: PLEASE READ. In addition to the GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, violence, and references to the death of parent(s), there is also a scene that gets a bit 🔥 . No explicit language or descriptions are used, but it’s also pretty clear on what’s about to go down, so... fair warning. Honestly, I think it’s kinda tasteful 🔥 that fits the language and themes of the story so far, but I didn’t want to not say anything about it either, just in case.

Word Count: N/A because I get in my head about it and it makes me self conscious.

A/N: Part 2! Why do I find the damn GOT Faith of the Seven Vows so romantic? Like😅... I HIGHLY recommend listening to the I Am Hers, She Is Mine score while reading this, especially after the first scene. I’d link it, but then my public tags wouldn’t work, so😢

Anyways, thank you all for the support🖤 I hope you enjoy, and that you have a great rest of the week!

“What in the gods’ name is the meaning of this?!”

In the blink of an eye, the young lord was quickly yanked away from you and shoved up against the wall beside you instead. Lord Loreon groaned in protest to the swift action.

“Tyrell!”

“You dare try to stake a claim on my sister?!”

“Lady Y/N!”

Before you could begin to make sense of what was happening, Harwin was before you. Though seeing him usually brought you great comfort, he looked deeply troubled, and there was anger in his eyes that you had yet to witness personally.

“Did he lay a hand on you?” he asked you directly.

Lord Loreon scoffed, “I most certainly did not!”

“Silence!” your brother barked at him.

You were stunned into a momentary silence, but when you realized that Ser Harwin would not make a further move until you responded, you did so. “No, no. He didn’t.”

Ser Harwin looked as though he wanted to say more, but he relented, either accepting your statement as truth, or simply not wishing to argue. The anger in his eyes began to fade, leaving only concern.

“Y/N!” Princess Rhaenyra exclaimed, pulling you to her side and away from the wall. She looked you over, rapidly searching for any physical signs of distress. “Are you alright?”

It was then that you realized the presence of Lord Jason.

“Tyrell, you get your hands off my son, now!” he snarled.

You turned your attention to his line of sight, and were shocked by the scene before you.

Your brother had Loreon pinned up against the wall, with his forearm pressing tightly against his throat. Ser Harwin purposefully placed himself between Lord Jason and Derron, preventing the former from intervening in any sort of way. His position also put a sizable barrier between you and the squirming Lannister boy… perhaps that was also an intention of his, you supposed.

Regardless, even off the tourney field, it seemed as though the alliance between your brother and your betrothed was one that would be long-lasting.

Derron ignored Lord Jason’s order, and instead, gave one of his own to his captive. “Now you may speak, My Lord. Explain yourself, so that I may decide how best to deal with you.”

“She approached me!” Lord Loreon squealed. To your brother’s credit, the young lord did not appear to be struggling for air… but he wasn’t able to move, either. “I only met her here upon her request!”

Insulted most deeply, you snapped, “That is a gross lie!”

The Princess shushed you, but you were too impassioned to stop now. You would not let your name and reputation be soiled by the likes of Loreon Lannister- especially not in front of Ser Harwin.

“I was informed that the Princess wanted to speak with me privately, and that I was to meet her at once,” you explained. “I waited for her here for quite some time, until he approached me!”

“She’s lying!” Lord Loreon fumed, his rage rampant. “You little-”

“Mind your tongue!” Ser Harwin ordered him threateningly in a low voice. “Or else you’ll lose it.”

Loreon gasped.

“Harwin!” Lord Lyonel scolded, coming to stand beside Lord Jason. You just realized his presence too, but he looked about as desperate for answers as the other men and Princess Rhaenyra. He looked at you next. “Lady Y/N- please, continue. What happened then?”

“He tried to convince me to run away with him, and said we could leave King’s Landing tonight.”

Lord Loreon fumed, “That is what you asked for!”

“It most certainly is not!”

Though he was unable to move his neck or head, Lord Loreon, with great struggle, managed to retrieve a piece of parchment from his coat. Ser Harwin stepped aside just enough for his father to reach and grab it from the young Lannister.

The entire group watched as Lord Lyonel read the letter with a blank face. After a moment, he announced, “It appears to be a rather… blunt, passionate letter, from Lady Y/N, requesting just as Lord Loreon says…”

The blood drained from your face.

“It is a farce,” Ser Harwin denounced vehemently. “I am certain of it!”

You were heartened by his quick and staunch defense of you. Most other men might have assumed the worst, but- as you were constantly forced to remind yourself- Harwin was not like most men.

“Let me see that,” Princess Rhaenyra commanded, accepting the letter from the Lord Hand and reading it herself. When she was done, she laughed shortly. “This is not even Lady Y/N’s hand!”

“What?” Lord Loreon gasped.

“Lady Y/N has been writing letters for me for the better part of a year,” Princess Rhaenyra reminded the group. She was confident, and her tone left absolutely no room for question. “I can choose it amongst others from sight alone. I assure you, this letter is not written in her hand. Nor would I ever believe her to be capable of such a thing.”

You were humbled by Princess Rhaenyra rising to your defense as well.

“May I, Your Grace?” Lord Jason asked, eyeing the parchment suspiciously. Princess Rhaenyra handed it over to him wordlessly, and his eyes rapidly scanned over the contents. When he was finished, they rolled as he groaned tiredly. “Seven Hells, Son!” he exclaimed to Loreon. “I cannot believe you fell for this, you fool! The language alone…”

Derron took the letter from Lord Jason with a flourish, though he otherwise remained still, keeping Loreon pinned to the wall. Your brother read the letter, and scoffed. To the young lord, he questioned mockingly, “You actually believed my sister would write you such a thing?!”

Derron held the letter out to Ser Harwin to take, but your betrothed made no move to do so. Instead, he looked over at you. Though he had defended you thus far, part of you expected to find disappointment lingering in his eyes. However, there simply was none to be found.

“There is no need for me to read it,” he decided out loud, his eyes never wavering from your own. “For even if it was written by Lady Y/N’s hand, I know it could not possibly be true.”

Your heart felt as though it might burst from your chest.

“Y/N?” your brother offered then.

“I have no desire to read it, either,” you said, eyes still locked with Harwin’s. “It is a complete fabrication that I wish to give no further merit to by entertaining it further.”

Ser Harwin was the one to finally break away. He turned back to your brother, and put a hand on his shoulder. Your brother huffed once more, probably out of disbelief than anything else, before begrudgingly removing his arm from Lord Loreon’s neck.

The young man scrambled away from Derron and over to his father, but the other man looked no more pleased with him.

“It would seem,” Lord Lyonel began, garnering everyone’s attention, “That someone has decided to play a cruel trick upon us this evening.”

“A trick?” Derron repeated dumbfoundedly. “It was a trick that My Lord sought to lay a hand on my sister? And on the night before her wedding, no less?”

“My son was foolish,” Lord Jason admitted, though he sounded pained in doing so. “But you are not innocent, either. You have accosted my son, without knowing the full extent of what led him here!”

Your brother ignored Lord Jason entirely. Instead, he looked at you expectantly. “It is you who was wronged, and so it shall be your decision, Sister. What would you have us do with him?”

Lord Loreon looked between your brother and Ser Harwin with a mixture of pure shock and fear. He attempted to make a small step closer towards his father subtly, as if seeking safety, but failed.

You looked at the sorry excuse for the future patriarch of House Lannister pitifully.

And that’s when it hit you.

“Let him go.”

Your brother’s eyebrows shot up. “What?!”

Harwin looked at you carefully, but it was more out of interest than protest.

“You shall do nothing to him,” you insisted firmly. “Each family has made a grievance upon the other tonight… but it shall go no further than this. Whoever devised this trick-” - plot - “-shall receive no satisfaction from their efforts whatsoever.”

It was quiet for a moment as everyone present mused over your suggestion.

“Lady Y/N is wise beyond her years,” Lord Lyonel finally declared, stepping up on your behalf. “Perhaps, given the extenuating circumstances, and the fact that both Lady Y/N and Lord Loreon appear to have suffered no serious harm… Perhaps it is best that we all return to the feast at once, and forget this entire farce ever occurred.”

You could tell your brother was not so inclined to agree, but he had little choice in the matter when the Princess offered her own opinion.

“I agree with the Lord Hand,” Princess Rhaenyra announced decisively. “None of us shall speak of this matter ever again… And, should word about any of this begin to travel, we will know whom to look to for answers. Do we have everyone’s word?”

The reasoning, from everyone who had offered it, was sound. After a few moments, everyone nodded their heads in silent agreement.

“Let us return to the feast, then,” Derron encouraged, albeit half-bitterly. “Perhaps we shall all test the limits of what memories the finest wine from the Reach can blur.”

Your brother angrily tossed the piece of parchment into a nearby hanging torch.

Later that evening, you returned to your chambers, thoroughly exhausted, emotionally and physically.

You sat upon your bed, and begrudgingly removed your shoes from your sore feet. As the shoes fell to the ground with a soft thud, light knocks rasped against the door.

You quickly strode across the room, and cracked it open.

It was Ser Harwin.

Wordlessly, you opened the door a touch wider to allow him entry. He slipped inside, and you shut the door as silently as you could manage behind him.

“You shouldn’t have come,” you told him, not yet turning to face him.

“Do you not wish to see me?”

“It is not that,” you disagreed, slowly placing your tired hands upon the wooden door. “I am only worried that someone else will have taken notice of you coming here.”

“They have yet to notice thus far,” Ser Harwin reminded you patiently, and you could practically hear the small mischievous smile playing upon his lips.

It was true. Since your betrothal was made official, Harwin had begun to visit you late at night in your chambers. At first, it only started when he was due to go off on patrol out in the city, as was one of his duties as a member of the City Watch. He would stop by, you could converse freely and openly, and then he would be on his way. The visits slowly but surely grew in frequency, and now, it was not unusual for your betrothed to pay you late night visits several days of the week.

If anyone else were to discover what was occuring, there would be serious repercussions, and both of your reputations would be tainted. Perhaps yours more so than his. Harwin had voiced this concern to you, and you heard him out when he did. But ultimately, neither of you wanted to sacrifice the time the two of you were able to share. And so, you had mutually agreed to be even more especially discreet about it.

Nothing had ever… happened, between the two of you during the late night visits, though the environment around you had gotten a bit heated on the occasion. The focus had always been the ability to be open and speak plainly with the other without an escort, and it was that intent that kept the two of you wanting to continue, despite the risks.

Besides the fact that it was the night before your wedding, you had not expected him to visit you tonight… not after everything that had happened.

When you finally turned around to face him, Ser Harwin immediately did a double take. “Were you crying, My Lady?”

Hot tears you hadn’t even realized you allowed to form fell down your cheeks. Your face heated with mild embarrassment as you swiped them away briskly. “It is nothing.”

It was a bold, blatant lie.

But Ser Harwin knew that.

There was still a bit of distance between you, closer than there normally would have been. But despite the additional leniency, Harwin still had to look down at you to see your face. When he did, you saw that his own expression was riddled with nothing but the utmost sympathy and worry.

“If you do not wish to see me, you need only say the word,” he said, politely offering to excuse himself once more. “I only wished to ensure that all was well… or rather, as well as it can be.”

You knew with complete certainty that you did not want him to leave. But after everything that had transpired that evening, when the man who claimed to love you so greatly confirmed the notion as fact by openly showing nothing but complete trust in and concern for you… It was overwhelming.

“You are… inconceivable, Ser Harwin.”

His concern was muddied by confusion. “... I beg your pardon, My Lady?”

“We have just escaped ruin by the skin of our teeth, and you are more concerned with how I am feeling than trying to discover who orchestrated the vile ‘trick’ we nearly fell prey to.”

“It is not that I do not care about that,” Ser Harwin corrected. “I simply care about your well being more.”

You sighed. Whether it was out of tiredness or frustration, you were not sure. You said nothing, and your eyes fell to the floor. The stone felt pleasantly cool beneath your feet, but it was not nearly enough to cure what ailed you.

The only thing- or someone rather- that could cure you was standing just several feet away. Close, and yet so far.

“... Y/N?”

Upon hearing your betrothed call out your name so tenderly, you had no choice but to look him in the eyes once more. Once you did, you caved.

Wordlessly, he opened his arms, holding them outwards to you. The facade of pleasant exchanges shattered, leaving nothing but raw emotion in its wake.

You rushed forward in long strides, casting aside any sense of propriety or fear of further embarrassing yourself. When you reached Ser Harwin, you threw your arms in a vice-like grip around him, and buried your face in his chest.

In response, he let out a soft grunt- but you reasoned that had more likely to do with his aches and bruises from the tourney than anything else. Your eyes widened guilty as you pulled away, apologies for causing him further discomfort already on the tip of your tongue. But before you could say a word, Harwin pressed a hand to your back, and promptly pulled you towards him and into the embrace once more.

You hid your smile by pressing your face further into his chest. With one hand remaining on the small of your back, his other hand reached up to lightly cup the back of your head. You dug your fingers into the back of his doublet as firmly as you dared.

The nearly crippling sense of overwhelmingness you felt faded into the night. Ser Harwin had the uncanny ability to bring a calmness out of you that you never would have guessed was possible… though you would always feel indebted to him for it.

After several minutes of extremely comfortable silence, Harwin was the first to pull away. He allowed himself enough room to look down at you lovingly, but his arms made no move to let you go any further out of reach than what was necessary. Not that you would have wished to leave them, anyway.

“Better?” he prodded gently.

You looked up at him, resting your chin upon his chest. “Very much so.”

The hand that rested upon the back of your head traveled, several of its fingers coming to cup your chin instead. Ser Harwin leant down slowly, and placed a ghostly trace of a kiss upon your lips.

You blinked as the gesture left you feeling a bit dazed. Before you could playfully lash at him for teasing you so, he continued.

“I hope you can forgive me for delaying your rest,” Ser Harwin apologized. “I knew that sleep would not claim me tonight, not unless I was able to speak with you first.”

“There is nothing to forgive, My Lord.”

His hand shifted to cradle the side of your face. Though Ser Harwin held you within both of his arms, everything about his facial expression and body language suggested that you were the one who had true control of the situation you two were entangled in.

“Shall I be on my way, then?” he asked of you then, uncertainly.

You reached up and tapped his chin lightly with your forefinger. “There is no need for that… unless you wish to leave.”

“I do not.”

“Very well. Stay.”

In the aftermath of your particularly serious moment, the return of your light hearted exchanges left the both of you feeling a bit out of place. Slowly, so as not to give him any cause to perceive offense, you removed yourself from Ser Harwin’s arms. He let you go without protest.

You gestured to the table and chairs at the very edge of the room, just before the balcony. The two of you seated yourselves wordlessly, and you offered him some wine.

“Lord Derron will be having an unpleasant enough time in the morning,” Ser Harwin politely declined. “I would not burden you with another charge to look after.”

Despite yourself, you laughed.

Your brother, just as he had suggested, had taken to drowning in his cups after everyone returned to the feast. You let him be at first, seeing that it was harmless enough. But when Derron attempted to make a speech- the same speech he had already made hours before, but this time with the addition of colorful inebriated musings- you were forced to ask a cousin to escort him safely to his chambers to retire for the evening.

You planned to chastise your brother in the morning for threatening to make a fool of himself at the feast. But still, you knew just how likely you were to hold your tongue. Derron had also been struggling with the passing of your father, and in addition, he had been weighed down by his new responsibilities as well. Regardless of whether you would be the one to dole it upon him, Derron would learn his lesson from this night, of that you were sure.

“Well,” you began, suppressing a smile, “I thank you for that.”

Just outside the open archways leading to the balcony in front of you, a night’s view of King’s Landing waited. Despite the lateness of the hour, plenty of lanterns and torches were lit, and the noise of the city, though fainter than it would have been underneath sunlight, was still audible. The city was very much alive. Above the city was a black sky, only interrupted by stars, cold and distant, and the morose, solitary illumination of the moon.

You peeked over at Ser Harwin through your lashes. Thankfully, his attention was still focused on the view before you. You dared to wonder if you would ever find yourself in a scene like this again… Though you could have easily lived without the troubles that had resulted later on in the feast, you wouldn’t have traded the moment you were in for anything else in the world. Is this what the future held for you? Countless evenings, spent quietly, or not, with the one man who seemed to know you better than you knew yourself at times?

You desperately hoped so.

“Are you frightened?”

Ser Harwin tore his focus away from the view of the city, and returned it to you. When you said nothing, opting to wait patiently for him to elaborate further, he did so.

“It appears that someone among these halls does not wish us to be wed.”

Not someone, but several people came to mind.

You could ascertain many reasons as to why certain people among the Red Keep, and beyond, would not wish the two of you to be wed. The potential motives were infinite, and were made even more daunting by the fact that you were likely to remain in the dark about them forever. In the morning, you and Ser Harwin would pledge yourself to the other in the Great Sept of Baelor in front of your family, friends, esteemed guests, and other less than genuine attendees. And by then, it would be made clear that whoever had orchestrated the foul plot with Lord Loreon Lannister with the intention of causing a scandal and ruining the wedding would have gone through all that work for nought.

“Does the thought of that frighten you?” Harwin pried again curiously.

Whatever your answer was to be, you knew he would accept it without question. So there was no reason why you could not speak the truth. “It did, at first… But not anymore.”

“No? What changed?”

“Being here with you,” you confessed proudly, and without any shame. Then, you wondered out loud, “Are you aware of how much you affect me? Do you know just how grounded and calmed I am whenever you’re near?”

The revelation that fell over your betrothed’s face indicated that he had an inkling of an idea, but did not know of the full extent that you had just described.

You concluded, “I find myself having very little to fear with you by my side, My Lord.”

Harwin beamed. “That is most fortunate, My Lady, as I do not intend to stray from it.”

Though someone, whose identity and motive were still very much unknown, had conspired against you earlier that evening, the feeling was simply grand when the tables finally turned. There was a new-found sense of camaraderie with Ser Harwin, as the two of you conspired with one another, together, instead.

“Do you love me?”

Visible confusion flooded his face. Still, he answered. “With everything I am, and hope to be, My Lady.”

You didn’t doubt that, but wondered, if it were even possible, if your love for him ran even deeper than that. You told him as much. Then, feeling emboldened, you declared slyly, “So, I dare say, if someone wishes to divide us: let them try.”

Ser Harwin chuckled, and shook his head.

Your confidence wavered at his peculiar reaction. “What is it?”

He settled down, and sat up straighter in his seat. There was something intense about Harwin’s eyes when they locked with yours, then… something enticing, if not downright seductive, lingered in his usually calming irises.

“Since our betrothal, several people have made jokes at my expense,” he disclosed to you. “It’s been harmless- mostly jests thrown out about the training yard. But they ask me, ‘What business does Ser Breakbones have with a Tyrell?’ They thought my father might arrange for me to marry someone from the Riverlands, or even the North… Not a ‘flower’, from the South, as they so impolitely put it.” Harwin’s eyes looked glossy, as if he was recalling the scenes vividly. Then, the veil lifted, and he looked at you with sudden resolve. “But they underestimate you. And they fail to see something I have known about you all along.”

“And what is that?” you wondered, genuinely curious.

“Despite your outward appearance, in your heart, you are a fighter. Just as I am.”

Your eyes threatened to shine with tears once more.

“Roses have thorns,” he proclaimed. “I pity the men who would dare to forget that… and I pray that I am never one of them.”

“If that happens, you’ll have plenty of years to make it up to me, good fortune permitting.”

“Trust me, My Love- I look forward to it.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence once again. In your mind’s eye, you pictured what you had just alluded to. Growing old together. Traveling from King’s Landing to Harrenhal, and even to the Reach, year after year. Would you have a family? That had yet to be seen. But, at the very least, you would have one another. A few years, decades, every single day for the rest of your life… With a strange sense of sadness, you realized that no amount of time with Harwin on this mortal earth would ever be enough.

“... I could still pummel the Lannister boy, if you wish. Merely say the word, and it shall be done.”

You were shocked by just how plainly your betrothed proposed such a thing. His tone was conversational, as though he had offered to pass you a dish whilst dining together. Not as though he had just threatened to bludgeon the oldest son and heir of the Lord of Casterly Rock.

“Harwin!”

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence. “You’re my lady wife- how could I ever forget such an atrocity that was committed against you?”

“Nothing happened, Dearest,” you reminded him patiently. It was true; the ordeal had scared you, perhaps terribly so. But physically, you were unharmed. And yet, as much as you dreaded the thought of him causing further strife between your families and the Lannisters, the thought of Harwin willing to go such lengths for you made your heart flutter. But you would not feed into it. “And, I am not yet your lady wife, as we are not yet wed.”

“That is of little import, My Love,” Harwin dismissed briskly. “For how long you have held my heart, a ceremony feels like a simple formality at most.”

You fought the urge to smile, not wanting to encourage him further. “We cannot just go breaking the bones of the Lannister boy, especially not whilst the reason behind your assault could not be truthfully explained to the Court.”

Ser Harwin's face fell, and he pursed his lips thoughtfully. He knew you made a fair point.

After a moment, you added, “And we cannot go about breaking the bones of anyone else who wrongs us, either.”

Ser Harwin eyed you cautiously. “There will be others.”

“I know.”

Your betrothed was no fool. He was more than aware of the dangerous environment in which he lived.

Harwin was the oldest son of the Hand of the King… a position that the Queen’s father had been stripped of unceremoniously. Lord Lyonel Strong was loyal to three things: his family, the realm, and King Viserys. In that order. He could not be bought with money or promises of power, but he could be swayed by the well-being of his children. You were a lady in waiting to Princess Rhaenyra… and, dare you say it, a close friend. The Tyrells and Hightowers had struggled for power and influence in the Reach since Harlen Tyrell bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror. When King Viserys passed, there would be little doubt as to where the support of House Tyrell would fall in the matter of succession, unless you were to sway it.

You were likely to have enemies rising against you individually. Once the two of you were wed, it would be a certainty. They’d come in troves.

“As you said earlier- ‘let them try’,” Harwin challenged. “I shall consider our wedding tomorrow the first of many victories against the shadows that work against us.”

The reaffirmation of the event that was set to begin in just a few hours brought to mind your reservations that you had discussed with Princess Rhaenyra the day before. You wondered if your love shared in your nerves. “Are you ready for it? … For the wedding, I mean.”

“In my heart, I have been ready since the day I realized you’d stolen it from me.”

You blushed.

“... In my mind, I may be a bit worried about blundering the vows in front of the High Septon.”

You laughed once, both amused and touched by his honesty.

“What about you, My Lady? Are you prepared?”

“For the vows? I believe so.”

Ser Harwin was an observant man- you’d never fault him that. He noticed the careful way you answered his question immediately, and the way at which you suddenly refused to meet his gaze.

“Something troubles you.” It was more of a statement than a question.

You bit your bottom lip gently, the nerves rushing back to you all at once. Still, you were an honest woman, and you knew Harwin deserved nothing less. “Yes.”

Your heart wrenched when a look of sadness flushed over his face. “Are you having doubts about this marriage, Lady Y/N?”

“No.” Your hand shot across the table, intertwining with one of his own to emphasize the gravity of your words. “Not at all.”

“Then what ails you, My Love?”

You struggled for a moment how to voice your concern diplomatically. But when you felt Hawin’s fingers tracing over the palm of your hand, you were hastily reminded of whom you were speaking to. His eyes held no judgment, only care.

“I do not have any doubts about marrying you,” you repeated firmly. “But I am a bit nervous as to what comes… after.”

Harwin’s face was blank. “The feast?”

“After the feast.”

“Oh.” Realization washed over his face like the incoming waves along the shoreline of Blackwater Bay. “Oh.”

You lowered your gaze bashfully. “Yes.”

Harwin’s grip on your hand tightened, encouraging you to look at him once more. “Do I make you nervous, My Love?”

Of course he did. But not in the way he was inferring about.

“I assure you, you need not worry about what will transpire tomorrow night. Nothing will happen between us that you do not wish to.”

Frustration brewed within you at his response, but you couldn’t quite figure out why. “But we have duties.”

It was expected that you would have children, so that the Strong line would be continued.

“We are young, and there is plenty of time for that yet,” Harwin reassured you. “Whether we decide to cross that path tomorrow night, or even five years from now, is no matter of concern to me.”

“And you would be happy?” you challenged playfully, though part of you feared his answer. “You would be happy with a wife of several years with whom you would not share a bed?”

“I would be happy, truly, as long as I am with you.”

…

You were taken aback. How did this man hold so much sway over you still? You had known him well for the better part of a year, and had grown even closer than you would have thought possible over the past several months. And yet, Ser Harwin still had the ability to leave you completely shocked by his openness with you. It was refreshing to see someone, especially a man, especially a man in King’s Landing, who was entirely unafraid to be vulnerable.

Perhaps there was a strength to be found in owning one’s truths, rather than hiding or denying them. Perhaps your betrothed was one of the most intelligent of them all.

“It is getting rather late,” Harwin said purposefully, having noted your prolonged silence. “I suppose I should retire, and allow you to get some rest for tomorrow.”

“If that is your wish.”

You could tell by the look on his face that it still was not.

You rose from your seat and walked over to him slowly. Harwin remained seated, though he watched you with great interest as you approached. He allowed you to place gentle hands on the sides of his head, letting out a soft sigh as you did so. You carefully tilted it slightly towards his left.

Your eyes raked over the nasty bruises that adorned the side of his neck. It was even more shocking in appearance now than it had been a few hours prior at the feast.

You felt like a spectator, lacking control of the situation as you watched your hand lower hesitantly. Careful fingers ran over the purpled skin, and the body it belonged to shivered beneath you.

“Does it hurt?” you asked worriedly, withdrawing immediately.

Ser Harwin reached out and captured your retreating hand with his own. “No,” he assured you readily. “... Not as much as it did.”

You nodded understandingly, and when he released your hand, your fingers returned to his neck. Though this time, you were more calculated with your movements. Your eyes fell to where the bruise disappeared beneath his collar. “There are others, aren’t there?”

He eyed you guardedly, unsure about your intentions. Still, he answered, “Yes.”

You weren’t sure what came over you. You had no idea what could have possibly compelled you to ask your next question. But you did. And later, you would thank yourself ten times over for your boldness.

“Can I see?”

Harwin looked at you in slight bewilderment, as if he was not sure he had heard you correctly. “You… want to see the rest of the bruises?”

“Yes.”

Harwin said nothing, his face emotionless. But his eyes were searching, seeking to discover what your motive was with your request.

“I’m sorry,” you said abruptly, having a moment of clarity. “Please, forget I said anything. I didn't mean to overstep-”

You were silenced by Harwin silently undoing the buttons of his doublet.

Taking a step back to allow him room, you watched in an entranced daze as his fingers undid each one, working with a familiar ease. Harwin’s attention was less on his work, and more on you, as he watched for your reaction. Once the garment was undone, he slipped the overcoat off his shoulders, and placed it down on the table before him. He was left in his under tunic shirt. Your eyes couldn’t help but hungrily drift towards the neck of it, where loose strings allowed even more of his skin to be exposed. Deft hands reached for the hem of that next, and a moment later, the fabric was pulled up and over his head. He slowly placed the shirt down atop of the other, while your eyes feasted.

A broad chest, and even broader shoulders, caught your attention first. From his shoulders, your eyes moved over to his arms, where muscle after muscle twitched slightly of their own accord. There was no doubt in your mind that Harwin had earned his nickname Breakbones, and the reputation of being the strongest man in all of the Seven Kingdoms, honestly and fairly. It was only just. Your eyes brazenly continued to trail downwards, where more defined muscles guarded what otherwise would be a vulnerable spot of one’s stomach for most anyone else.

Dark purple and red splotches littering his arms, chest, and even neck could do nothing to take away from his overall appearance.

You silently thanked the Gods for having been blessed with this man.

You were gawking this time- and you wouldn’t deny it even if Harwin asked.

But he didn’t. While you had been preoccupied with the view in front of your eyes, other than that of the city, you had failed to notice Harwin shifting in his seat. At first, you feared it might have been out of pain once again. But then you realized that his eyes were restless, fluttering just about everywhere else in the room but upon you. And another moment of clarity fell upon you.

He was nervous. A man blessed by the Gods in so many ways was unnerved under your perusing eyes. You had, abashedly, sent him into a similar state before. But none of those moments compared to the state he was in now. It both honored and scared you just how much power you held over the matter, but your thoughts on that could wait for a later time.

You didn’t have the heart to leave him in such a pained state any longer. Taking a step forward towards him, you closed the distance between you again. This forced him to look upwards at you. You only hoped that what he saw in your eyes was the same love and kindness which he’d always looked at you with.

Once you stood before him, you placed your hands on his neck once more. You could feel his pulse, rapid and unyielding, beneath your fingertips. In response, Harwin’s hands rose to rest gently upon either side of your waist. Feeling courageous, and perhaps a bit delirious with the lateness of the hour, you leaned downwards.

When your lips gently fell upon the bruise upon his neck, Harwin shuddered.

You proceeded to treat each bruise in this manner, trailing light fingers and leaving soft, faint wisps of kisses in their stead. As the bruises continued down his chest and arms, you calmly maneuvered to sit on Harwin’s lap, so as to make your ministrations that much easier for you. The kisses would do nothing for healing the wounds any faster physically, but perhaps they would be of benefit in spirit.

You were entirely truthful during conversation with Princess Rhaenyra at the tourney the previous morning, regarding your nervousness about the events that were to take place after your wedding. But those butterflies were long forgotten now. And the bruises littering the skin of the man you loved filled your head with images of him throughout the tourney… How was it that you had described your feelings about him then?

Desirous.

Once you had treated every bruise with the care it deserved, you sat up straight, looking deeply into Harwin’s eyes. His hands, one on the small of your back, and the other upon your knee so as to hold you securely in place, felt white hot. You were uncertain of what to do next, but he did not leave you wondering for long. He leant forward, burying his face into the side of your neck instead.

His lips attacked your neck with fervor, and you smiled upwards towards the gods. While the attention felt absolutely lovely, a tickled laugh threatened to escape from your lips. As it were, a giggle slipped out instead. “Harwin.”

Upon hearing his name, he froze, snapped out of the moment he had gotten caught up in. He pulled away from you, looking uncertain once more. “My sincerest apologies, My Lady.”

“No apologies needed, My Lord.”

The two of you sat there for several moments, but this time, the silence was not a comfortable one. Nor was it uncomfortable. It simply felt alive. The need for more hung heavily in the air, but the question of whether the need would be appeased remained unanswered.

“Perhaps we should end the night here,” Harwin said, though he sounded down-trodden.

“Perhaps,” you agreed, your mind already daring to wonder about what would happen if anyone learned of this night, even without it proceeding any further than it already had.

“... Do you wish to continue?”

“Yes,” you answered truthfully, not skipping a beat. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

You cradled the sides of his face and allowed yourself to momentarily be lost in the feeling of your fingers running through the strands of his soft curls. “You know, we are to be wed tomorrow…”

“That is right,” he considered, picking up on your hint immediately. “We are…”

There was a beat of silence.

But then you leaned in, and Harwin met you halfway. The kiss that followed was full of longing. Passion and lust needlessly fought for dominance of a battle they both could win. Harwin shot up from his seat, pulling you up and into his arms. The legs of the chair he’d been sitting in groaned in protest at the sudden movement, and you let out a surprised yelp.

He carried you across the room with ease and without a word. Another laugh escaped you as Harwin unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed. A fraction of a moment later, he joined you on the mattress, crawling on top of you in a manner that, had it been anyone else, would have left you feeling afraid. But, as it was him, you found it to be terribly seductive.

When he came face to face with you, he paused. His weight rested on his hands, which were on each side of your head. A brief flash of the scene earlier that evening crossed your mind at the familiarity of it, but you were pulled from the disturbing thoughts by Harwin’s gentle voice.

“If, at any point, you do not wish to continue-”

You placed a soft finger on his lips, silencing him. “If that is true, I will speak it at once… but only if you agree to the same.”

Harwin looked incredibly moved. In lieu of a verbal confirmation, he took your hand and pressed several soothing kisses on the palm of it.

When Harwin pressed his lips to yours once more, the nerves you felt about the evening of the following day were proven to be unnecessary. There would be a give and take- where one felt uncertain, the other would summon the courage to take the lead. But the trust you had in one another made for the best spent evening you could ever recall thus far.

Come the morrow, you would look forward to a lifetime of evenings spent the same.

Several firm knocks echoed throughout the room.

You awoke with a start, clutching the duvet to your chest.

It was daylight. A few hours into the morning, at least, from what you could tell of the sunlight streaming into the room and the birds chirping outside. The city of King’s Landing was cloaked in darkness no more.

You pulled the duvet closer to you in an effort to gather your bearings more quickly, but something about the material on your skin felt a bit off. You looked downwards with a confused frown, seeing that you were not wearing your usual shift, but something else entirely.

A chill woke you from your slumber.

“Here.”

You opened your eyes, and were immediately met with the sight of fabric. With a small, tired grumble, you mustered the strength to sit up, at least partially.

Harwin took the opportunity to swiftly slide his under tunic shirt over you. As your arms slipped into the sleeves, the scent of the fabric filled your nostrils. Unsurprisingly, it smelled overwhelmingly like him. You wanted nothing more than to burrow yourself inside of it.

Another few knocks sounded out.

“Y/N?” someone called.

“Are you awake?” called another.

The Strong sisters. They’d come to help prepare you for the wedding ceremony, as they had previously promised they would. At first, you felt touched by their offer, and were glad to be getting along well with the girls who would soon be your Good Sisters. But now, you felt horrified. They couldn’t see you in this, clothed in their brother’s shirt!

At least Harwin had had the sense to sneak out at some point… Gods know what a scene it all would have been then.

Panicked, you threw the duvet off of you, and scurried onto the floor. You scrambled around the room, this way and that, looking for your shift frantically. When you did not immediately find it, you realized why Harwin had opted to put his own shirt over you instead.

In a far corner of the room- only the gods know how it may have feasibly gotten there- you finally found it. More knocks sounded on the door as you hurriedly swapped the shirt for the light gown.

“Just a moment!” you called back, dropping the shirt to the floor beside the bed and pushing it under the frame and out of view with your foot.

You smoothed your hair over with your fingers rapidly in an attempt to tidy any out of place hairs. But you knew, at least to a certain extent, that you did not look well-rested in the slightest.

Once you were as settled as you could be, you called out, “Come in!”

Lady Lilyan and Lady Eyla opened the door to your chambers and filed in, one after the other, promptly. They both were already dressed for the ceremony, wearing lovely gowns that had been tailored specifically for the occasion. Their hair was styled carefully as well, done up in a style similar to what they usually wore, with the exception of a few intricate braids here and there. You suspected those additions had been the results of inspiration from the Princess the three of you served.

Once the door was closed, they turned to you, and their jaws dropped.

“Lady Y/N, are you feeling well?” Eyla inquired with wide eyes. “You look like you just climbed out of bed!”

Lilyan shot her a disapproving look for her unnecessary critique. “Eyla!”

Sensing a quarrel brewing between them, you quickly insisted, “She is right- I only just rose.”

Eyla frowned. “I am sorry to hear that. Was it nerves that kept you from resting?”

You cleared your throat, having never been a particularly good liar. “Something like that.”

The three of you proceeded to work in tandem to prepare you for the ceremony. Lilyan, who had been tasked with keeping your dress for safekeeping, set the garment upon your bed, while Eyla assisted you with finding the proper various underskirts.

“You were not jesting, were you?” Lilyan asked you, eyeing the significantly disheveled sheets on your bed with disbelief. “It looks like you must have tossed and turned the whole night!”

Your eyes flicked over to the bed worriedly, but Lilyan’s reaction seemed genuine, and not suspicious in the slightest.

Another comfortable silence had fallen over the pair of you, now sated mentally, emotionally, and, most recently, physically.

Your fingers tapped idly across Harwin’s bare chest. He watched the small movements of your dancing fingers with adoration.

Once you were dressed, Eyla set about finding your brush. Lilyan worked on tightening the back laces of your dress.

A few more knocks sounded on the door.

You weren’t expecting anyone else, but still, you called out, “Come in!”

The door opened, revealing none other than Princess Rhaenyra.

“My Lady!” Eyla exclaimed, displaying shock on behalf of all three of you. She moved to curtsy, but the Princess waved her off politely as she shut the door behind herself.

“Forgive me, I didn't mean to intrude.”

“You are most welcome, as always, Your Grace,” you answered.

Princess Rhaenyra still looked a little uneasy, which was out of character for her. But she pushed through it, and crossed the room to approach you. Eyla was having a bit of difficulty locating the hairbrush, and to be honest, you couldn’t entirely recall where you’d last left it. Lilyan decided to assist her sister in finding the reclusive instrument, which left you and the Princess alone for a moment.

“I remembered how nervous you were two mornings past,” Princess Rhaenyra explained, speaking in a hushed tone so as to keep the conversation as private as possible. “And, given the events of last night, I just wanted to make sure that you were-”

She paused, and her eyes dropped to the floor. You followed suit. Your gut sank as you saw Princess Rhaenyra’s shoe had made contact with the sleeve of your betrothed’s shirt. Evidently, you hadn’t kicked it underneath the bed nearly far enough. The Princess was not daft; you knew any excuse you could craft in order to explain why Ser Harwin’s shirt was in your quarters the morning before your wedding would not be believed.

You looked back up at her with fear.

But Princess Rhaenyra was not appalled. In fact, she looked very amused.

“Are you feeling better today, Lady Y/N?” she asked pointlessly, not bothering to tame her knowing smirk.

“Dearest?”

Harwin, whose eyes had closed in content, was suddenly alert. “Hm?”

“Will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Stay with me.”

His head tilted towards the side with confusion. “We are to be wed-”

“No,” you interrupted, wanting- no, needing- to get your point across. “I know we will be husband and wife. But even the bond of marriage does not guarantee those involved will love, or even care, for one another.”

Most others in either of your positions were not so fortunate as to have been arranged to marry someone they loved. You hoped the day where one of you no longer loved the other would never come… but if it did, there would be no separating you. And any enemies the two of you had would only revel in that fact.

“Promise me that you’ll stay with me.”

Harwin looked thoughtful. “Nothing, save your command, would ever part me from you.”

You smiled sadly. You wanted to believe him, and you did. But people changed. The thought of him finding comfort in the arms of another woman was almost too much to bear.

“You do not believe me.” It wasn’t a question.

“I believe that that is your truth at this moment.”

Harwin sighed, though it was not out of anger. “Very well… How about we make a vow? And if I break my promise, you shall have every right to dispose of me as you see fit,” he proposed. Then, as an afterthought, he joked, “I would not haunt you… even though the other spirits of Harrenhal might.”

You wanted to laugh at his joke, but you were far too interested in the point he was attempting to make. “And what is this ‘vow’ you suggest?”

“From this day-“

“It’s night, Dearest.”

“I believe that is the sun rising, My Love.”

You glanced over at the balcony. On the horizon, a faint ray of light lingered. He was right.

“From this day,” Harwin continued amusedly but with purpose, “until the end of my days, I am yours, and you are mine.”

“... Are those not the words we will exchange in a few hours time?”

“Yes, but those will be more for our families’ sake than our own.”

You teased, “I’m not sure the gods see it that way-”

“-These words, here at this moment, are for us.”

One look at his face told you all you needed to know. There were no witnesses, and yet, you had little doubt that Harwin meant the words as he said them now, to you and you alone.

“Yes,” you agreed, fighting to control your voice as emotions threatened to disrupt it. “I am yours, and you are mine. From this day-”

“-Until the end of our days.”

Harwin punctuated the end of your vows to one another with a kiss. Though you still felt the faintest trace of desire behind it, what was more striking to you was the sense of pure, uninhibited love it left you with.

“I am feeling much, much better, Your Grace.”

Lady Lilyan and Lady Eyla were none the wiser to the entire exchange.

Still smiling, the Princess cleared her throat. To the other ladies in the room, she said, “Now… How is it that you plan to style her hair?”

For how long your courtship and betrothal seemed to drag on, you wished the few hours leading up the ceremony had felt the same.

Unfortunately, in what seemed like little time at all, the carriage arrived before the Great Sept of Baelor. The Strong sisters exited first, before assisting you to do the same. Once you were out in the open air, you took a deep breath. The low chimes of the bells of the Sept filled the air.

You glanced behind you, aware of the commotion the carriage and escorting guards traveling through the narrow alleyways of King’s Landing must have caused.

Curious eyes of many of the city folk were upon you. It wasn’t every day a wedding took place in the Great Sept- much less one attended by King Viserys and the rest of the royal family.

Once you entered through the large doors, someone flocked to you immediately.

“You look beautiful, Sister.”

Derron looked dashing himself, but you could tell his overindulgence of wine the prior evening may have been dampening his mood. Still, he pushed through. He smiled at you warmly, taking you in for a moment.

“Just like mother,” he decided, lost in some distant memory. Then, suddenly upbeat, he added, “She would be so proud. Father would be too.”

The mention of your father made your heart wrench. In an effort to stave off tears, you grabbed his hand, and kissed his cheek.

The Strong sisters excused themselves, and wished you good fortune before heading further into the Sept. You watched them leave.

The rest of the guests were already waiting inside. You could see them quite well from where you stood. In one of the front rows, you could see the backs of the silvery blonde hair of the royal family, save the Queen, on one side. On the other, you could see the Lord Hand, standing right beside his other son. Lilyan and Eyla joined the two of them quickly. Besides the Strongs, you could see your aunt, cousin, and few other distant family members among the crowd…

As if he had read your mind, Derron said, “They are here with us.”

You knew exactly what he meant. “I know.”

…

The green and gold cloak over your shoulders felt incredibly heavy. Though you knew it to be no heavier than your gown, as you walked down the aisle, you gripped your brother’s arm tightly, fearful that the weight of it might bring you down to the floor.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at any of the guests as you passed. There would be time to speak with them later.

At that moment, there was only one person who mattered to you. And it was him that you looked to.

Harwin stood atop the first flight of stairs at the end of the aisle. Seeing him, standing there patiently, watching your every move so diligently made you want to do little else but to run straight to him.

Alas, you could not.

When you reached the stairs, you withdrew your arm from Derron’s, and he withdrew the cloak from around your shoulders. You gave him a small smile as he retreated, backing down from the altar to stand beside Lord Lyonel.

You grabbed the arm you knew would be waiting for you, though you did not look at it. You allowed it to guide your feet forward, up a few more stairs. Then, you stopped.

With a brief flourish of fabric, a new cloak was placed over your shoulders. The fabric was of blue, red, and green; the colors of House Strong. Fingers lingered on your shoulders for just a few moments longer than they should have- but you were certain you were the only one to have noticed. Only then did you look at Harwin once more.

The look in your betrothed’s eyes made you want to melt into the floor. And you would have right then and there, had his hand not grasped yours immediately after.

Your eyes remained locked as you raised your intertwined hands, presenting them before the High Septon and the rest of the audience.

“Who has come before the eyes of the Seven?”

“Y/N of House Tyrell.”

“Harwin of House Strong.”

“Have you come before the Seven of your own fruition, without the will or force of another upon you, with the intent of pledging yourself to the other?”

“Yes.”

“Let it be known that Y/N of House Tyrell and Harwin of House Strong are of one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder!”

Yes, you agreed happily. Cursed be they!

The mischievous look across Harwin’s face suggested that he must have had a similar thought. You bit your lip to stifle a laugh.

The High Septon either did not notice, or chose to pay it no mind. He proceeded to wrap your hands together with jeweled fabric used only for this purpose.

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them together as one for eternity… Now, look upon the other, and say the words.”

When it came to the vows, Harwin needn’t have been so worried about forgetting them. He recalled them perfectly, as did you. It was an amazing feat, considering when you looked into his eyes, your mind was suddenly devoid of all other thoughts. In hindsight, and considering how little of the actual ceremony you were able to recall, it felt like a dream.

But, as you were in the moment, you were absolutely certain of the existence of three things: Harwin, you, and your shared future.

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger.”

“-I am hers-”

“-and he is mine-”

“-from this day-”

“-until the end of my days.”

…

Until the end of our days.

...

Whatever transpired next, whether you were to be struck by misfortune decided upon by the gods, or if you were to fall prey to wicked schemes that had not yet been devised, you and Harwin would have each other. You would face whatever came your way together, as one.

And you would both be that much stronger for it.

A/N: Thank you for reading!🖤 I only had one more part after this planned for the story originally, but now I’m thinking of at least 1-2 more chapters on top of that, just to carry out through the rest of HOTD season 1... so feel free to let me know what you think about that!

Also, I had some major problems with tagging, etc today... so I apologize about that. I’ll address it in a separate post.

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joaneunknown · 1 year

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Eight steps in making the editing process of your book easier

It is that time again. You have finished telling the story and now, you have to edit it, so that your novel will be perfectly edged like a diamond. But, although it may seem easy, it is not. I have gone through it three times and a new editing process is coming way soon and, honestly, editing the first draft of the novel you have written sucks. I would describe editing your novel as a non-editor the work of the fucking devil, and I am not speaking about its grammar. I am speaking about the plot and the storyline. Just think of how many things you have learnt since you have started writing your book, and with the more things you have learnt, the better your writing became Unfortunately, no one knows everything from the first page and your writing style can also change throughout the book which makes everything even harder than it already was. So, now that I have finished procrastinating, I am going to show you eight steps into making the editing process of your book more bearable and less terrifying.

Step 1: Make a list with the editorial changes while writing

Writing a book takes a lot of time and during that time, you learn a lot of things. Your writing fluidity changes, the book's ideas start having a clearer form and your entire writing style changes. Since your ideas become clearer, you have to edit each chapter, from the beginning to the end, which means that once the writing process is done, you will have to start from the introduction and change some things. Those things could be names that you have changed throughout the book, wrong dates, different descriptions of the same characters or places and so on. My advice is to make a list of all the tiny things that you will have to fix during the editing process, while and after writing your draft. Tiny things can also include formatting changes that you think are necessary to make your book better. Maybe, it can be important information that you might have altered which should stay intact during the plot. Remembering specific information is vital when editing your draft. The main point of this step is to know the tiny details you will have to either clean up or rewrite, besides the more important information that your future you shouldn't forget while editing.

Step 2: Read your book after finishing it

I consider that reading your unedited work is also a very important step because it can give you an idea of what must be changed and how the book looks so far. I would personally give it a few days after finishing the last chapter to start reading it, so then the story wouldn't be so fresh in your mind. Also, while reading your book, whether that would be on paper or on a device, I would recommend having the list that you have made at step one next to you, so then when you spot a mistake, you'll write it down right then.

Step 3: Make a list of the chapters/moments that must be rewritten

Unlike step one, this is more serious because if there are holes or discontinued chapters that just don't fit the book, you should not only acknowledge them but rewrite or cut them off completely. I, for example, am going through this right now. My introduction is not only awkward and cringe, but it doesn't fit the book at all, and in a couple of weeks when I will be done writing the book, I will have to take out the introduction and write another one to fit the whole. So, find the biggest problems and resolve them.

Step 4: Rewrite what has to be rewritten in another document

I believe that writing those parts in a separate document is going to make your official draft look cleaner and give you more freedom in rewriting or just writing the problematic chapters. Obviously, after you have written those chapters/parts/moments, you must insert it back into the official draft and that takes us to the next step...

Step 5: Make the rewritten parts fit into book

Now that you have got rid of the parts that didn't fit the book, you should make the rewritten parts fit with both the pages before and the pages after it. I don't think it is a problem with gluing the rewritten parts back into the official draft just as long as they are on a straight line with the other pages before and after them.

Step 6: Edit the details in your editorial notes

I would call this the easiest part of all. You already have the direction, now you have to stick to it. Besides those details, it could also be grammar problems that you could solve easily with a few changes.

Step 7: Delete the useless and fill what hadn't already been filled

Just like an editor, you must know what parts have no chance of being entertaining or important to the book. You must read all your pages and edit them like a critic. What is useless and bores out your readers goes out into the trash pin and what could be fully developed must be fully developed. If you feel like a paragraph just didn't fulfill its potential, then you should grow it out until it becomes the best you could have ever made it.

Step 8: When you finish editing it, leave it off for a while before reading it

I heard this advice from Neil Gaiman during one of his masterclasses on Masterclass and since then I have found this advice extremely useful. After a while, the story will no longer be as fresh as before and when you will read it, you will feel like the reader.

I hope those steps will make you feel less frightened by the editing process that is standing on your shoulders. All you do is to make your book better and even if that could annoy and bore you, that is part of a writer's job. Just because you have written it doesn't mean it is ready to be published. You may edit your book a couple of times before feeling as if your book is ready to be posted and I think that is also fine. All that counts is to get your book edited and ready to be given to your readers.

"Most of writing is editing...It is the responsibility of the writer to provide the reader with the best material possible"- Harry Heckel

This was Joane Unknown for #TalkingUnknown, more like these on my profile and at the link in my bio. Have a good writing day and see ya next week with another one of these!

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beautifulpersonpeach · 6 months

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im so confused about that taekook pic. is jimin trolling? it's like he's toying with us? pls plss plss don't forget this ask bpp. pls answer my asks. i don't get why everything feels fake about jikook, tkk, jimin. is he even happy? it's like hybe is pulling the strings and trying to confuse jimin stans to frustrate us.

Ask 2:

At this point I just feel like we're getting played with lol. By who and for what? I don't know. But I've felt this way ever since we got photos/video that jimin did in fact get a cake for his solo and I'm sure big hit saw what the fandom was saying about him not getting one and they still waited to announce that he did.

BTS just isn't fun anymore for me rn. There's just this tension surrounding everything. And not just with shipping. It's fandom wide blatant favoritism. Shifting confusing narratives from the guys themselves (Jungkook claiming he's not trying to shy away from the maknae image when that's all he's been saying for months now???). Tae doing whatever it is that he's doing (bless his heart chile). Namjoon seems to be a mess rn, I wanna give him a hug, he speaks like life is kicking his ass. And our jiminie, I can't get a read on but he seems happy. And the other 3 being in the army so they're not causing trouble lol.

These taekook pics from jimin, hmmm idk, maybe it's his way of telling people he doesn't care about the backlash, and tae bringing jungkook up constantly, and we should back off.

It's all a mess. I never thought I'd long for the day we'd get a real break lol. I WANT to miss them.

I don't hate them. This is just exhausting. It's like them and the company are trying to be strategic with everything and it feels a bit disingenuous? Idk if that's the word. Maybe disconnected is more the word. And I know they've always been strategic in the things they do, so idk why this feels different to me.

Anyway, thanks for letting me ramble in your inbox lol

Ask 3:

Something feels wrong about suchwita. It feels forced. Am I the only one who feels Hybe is doing damage control with jikook to contain the fallout from Golden? BPP I'd like to hear what you think about vminkook's date, suchwita revealing the travel variety in context of all the controversies that happened lately. Does Jimin just not care about taekooker hate? He might be kind but he's still human.

Ask 4:

I give up on Jimin. Tired of stanning a grown man letting himself get played for a fool. Hybe, you won. Gloat away BPP. You and the rest of the OT7 cows win.

Ask 5:

BPP your asks about that RM - FACE credits controversy from Pjms reminded me of one debate I saw btw flat earthers and scientists. It's the most fascinating thing I've ever seen. The part that made me think of you is how flatearthers called the scientists uneducated, said they did their own calculations and made their own observations to arrive at fringe theories that disputed the wider consensus. I found it so strange how both scientists and flat earthers could observe the same thing but reach widely different conclusions. I know you've been going over and over with solos for some months so I hope this can make you laugh a bit BPP.

https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=Q7yvvq-9ytE

***

Hi Anon(s),

Lol, Anons in asks 1 through 4, why are you letting your minds torment you over things that should be obvious? Anon in ask 5, you sent me that ask last week, but it feels apt to post it now given the sort of asks I've gotten in the last few hours.

How many times can we go over the sort of conspiratorial thinking that plagues people who eventually become akgaes, thought patterns that have been shown several times this year to be completely misguided? If the only conclusion you can reach after everything we've seen in the last 10 months, after seeing Jikook, Taekook, Yoonmin, Vmin, and Yoonkook's conversations recently, is that 'someone' must be trying to pull a fast one on you, then maybe you should take a step back.

Honestly, in my opinion, you all fit the profile of people who should engage with k-pop very sparingly. Most times, I've observed these sort of views (also in the case of flat-earthers) are caused by gaps in foundational knowledge about the subject coupled with personal implicit biases. I see this happen all the time, and it's unfortunately the sorts of people who think like this who only get further sucked in, to the point they lose any semblance of a reference point. If you're still at the point you're asking these questions, especially Anon in ask 1, 2 and 3, there's still a chance. I'd suggest a clean break, a detox period, and very limited exposure going forward but starting from scratch and actually watching official content from the early years. A lot of people who joined the fandom post-2020 have only seen compilations and selected clips of BTS's formative years, and so they lack the background to better interpret everything that's happening in Chapter 2 - from why HYBE wouldn't respond to akgaes whining about cakes by posting it right away, to how vminkook have behaved throughout Chapter 2.

Listen to how you feel and please step back.

With flat earthers it's funny because in a bid to be skeptical, to 'question everything' so they aren't "played as a fool", they end up becoming just that. For most other people there's no joke, but for them the joke is always on them.

youtube

Thanks for the video, Anon in ask 5. But rather than make me laugh, it did the opposite. The conclusion of the video is that no flat-earther, not one, changed their minds after debating with the scientists. I had a theory that the people who end up as akgaes were always going to be that regardless of any arguments that run contrary to their beliefs, because at the heart of it, it's not about the arguments but about them. But I hoped I could be wrong. Extrapolating the conclusion of this video to my theory, the suggested implication is bleak as hell.

Anyway, stream Golden and enjoy jikook jikooking. Sounds like we're about to get a full calendar of content.

#bts #fandom behaviour #fandom discourse #bts chapter 2 #bts solo stans #jimin #jungkook #taehyung #yoongi #jikook #flat earthers #conspiratorial thinking

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mcu-fan-fics-blog · 7 months

Text

Remember a Time XI

Series: (Pt.1), (P.t 2), (P.t 3), (P.t 4), (P.t 5), (P.t 6), (P.t 7), (P.t 8), (P.t 9), (P.t 10) Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader ;) (High school Au ) No Powers Word count: 1904 A/n: Things are starting to get serious. I am trusting the process, everything will fall into place, hopefully. I hope you peeps enjoy the story so far I appreciated you all. Some love to the annon that sent me a message. (U know who you are <3)

Your first year of college was rather uneventful. Well that's what you liked to tell people, but in all honesty it was absolutely horrible. You and Natasha had entered this new chapter of your lives together and on the same page. You couldn't help but feel that by the end of the first semester you guys were reading two completely different books. Natasha was a go-getter she was impeccably amazing at everything she decided to put her mind to. She had chosen a very demanding Law major and on top of that she would give her all to train and practice to be the best. You didn't choose the easiest major, but it was lax compared to Natasha's 3 hours worth of reading each night. Business management was something that you felt somewhat passionate about. Your father had a somewhat large company that he built from the ground up. And you were fond of the idea of picking up the mantle when your time came. But you also had fun, a lot of fun.

Once your mother found out you would be attending UCLA she made sure that you got everything in order to pledge to her old sorority. You'd never been the type to think that you would try out let alone fit in and thoroughly enjoy being a part of. You only pledged to your mothers old sorority and once the fact that you were a legacy came up you were welcomed with relatively open arms. "How's pledge week going, please tell me you're not being hazed by some weak blonde bimbo." Natasha said as you walked into your apartment. "No... I'm being hazed by a hot blond bimbo." You joked, chuckling at Natasha's disgruntled look. "Not cool.." She huffed "People don't do that anymore, but I think that I really like it there." She smiled. "I'm glad that we’re both finding our place." She said walking towards you and engulfing you in a tight hug and giving you a chaste kiss on the lips.

That would be one of the last moments you had with her that didn't end up with the both of you fighting. You absolutely hated having arguments with her but the universe just seemed to want to pull you apart. Freshman year was a year of discovery, you learn a lot about yourself and your limits unfortunately sometimes you can get caught up in all that freedom to grow and and honestly lack of adult supervision. You'd become an avid party goer and maybe a tad bit of an alcoholic. Natasha was busy most days, her schedule was packed and you couldn't complain all the contrary you admired her dedication. But the lack of seeing each other was creating friction because when she could see and spend time with you, you were at a party or hungover, or busy yourself trying to catch up with school work. "We can't keep going like this Y/n what's happening to us?" Your tears were muted, you felt her sadness and yours. This was only going one place and you both knew it.

Natasha was having a hard time. It took a long while for her to adjust to not being near her family, then it took her even longer to adjust to being with you in this new phase of her life. School was stress inducing to say the least of course she had things under control but that didn't mean she didn't stress all the contrary she only had it under control because she stressed. Soccer was as good as it could get. She only really pushed herself so hard because it relieved some of the stress she was feeling. All of her teammates were likable and trust worthy. There was one teammate in particular though that she could really see as a good friend and that would be Maria Hill, team captain. She had taken Natasha under her wing and taught her the ropes. There was something more there and she could feel it. A small wince or a clench of the jaw every time she mentioned you. There was something there and it was driving Natasha crazy. She'd promised Wanda and herself she wouldn't hurt you, and here she was considering it.

It always came down to Wanda didn't it.

"I-i Natasha, maybe we should..." Your phone rang in your pocket with the last number you'd think would call you. It was Pietro, you were shocked to say the least. "I think that I should take this..." You motioned to the phone in your hand. Natasha nodded, wiping a tear from her eye too busy trying to compose herself to notice who was calling. "Is this Y/n's number? " The voice on the other end sounded unfamiliar. "Yes, I'm sorry but who is this and why are you calling from my friend's phone?" The person on the other end sighed. "Um, Y/n It's me Vision. Listen, you might want to take a seat or something." Your heart rate picked up and your shoulders tensed. Natasha noticed and she herself began to brace. "Pietro he um, he's been in an accident Y/n." Your heart ached, your hand moved to your chest, tears immediately welling in your eyes. "It's not looking good." His voice was heavy with sorrow. "She told me to call you..." Your heart broke at that, Wanda. "I'll get the next flight out, I'll be there as soon as I can. Please keep me updated." You urged. "I will just please come."

The line dropped and your eyes finally met Natasha's. "Pietro's had a- He's been in an accident." You barely managed to get out. Natasha tried to step forward with her arms reaching for you. You moved back, your mind still reeling with what was about to come out of your mouth before you answered that phone, and the phone call itself. "I need to call Tony, He'll get me there in no time." Natasha's surprise was thinly veiled. "Y/n you're in the middle of the most important part of the semester, finals are around the corner, you can't just up and leave." Your eyes pierced hers. "I can, and I will. My friend could very well be dead right now." Calling him that felt wrong, he was more than a friend, sure things were rocky after Wanda. But you still cared immensely for him. You left her standing there in the tense silence you'd created. You dialed Tony he answered on the first ring. "Finally, my jet's waiting for you and Nat." You winced at her mention. "Just me, I'll be on the plane within the hour." Natasha drove you to the hangar, the drive was silent. It was uncomfortable, but you appreciated her being somewhat reasonable and not bringing up your conversation right now.

"I'll let you know what happens when I land." You said when you'd finally pulled up to the plane. "I think maybe you shouldn't." She said quietly, her eyes on the ground in front of you. You scoffed out a laugh, wiping the tears in your eyes. You nodded. "Noted, Goodbye" You didn't give her a chance to reply boarding the plane as quickly as possible. That flight was the longest four hours of your life. You weren't mad at Natasha you'd seen this coming just not like this. Never like this. It hurt but It would've hurt more if you'd both waited until it was too late. Tony was there when you landed . He gave you a crushing hug, which you returned. "What happened?" You asked, your voice breaking slightly. "Pietro was hit by a drunk driver on his motorcycle." You winced. "He's still in surgery. They're trying to stop all the internal bleeding." You nodded already trying to steady and strengthen yourself. Either way it was going to be hard. "Wanda, how is she?" In any eventuality it would be a lot to deal with. "No one thought this would happen, you never think something like this is coming." You only nodded. The drive there again was incredibly silent.

Your eyes searched frantically for her, you definitely looked worse for wear no sleep and a prior maybe relationship break up was definitely taking a toll on you. When your eyes landed on her you knew she needed this... you. She looked pale, her eyes were dull, she was a ghost. You didn't look or feel any better but you knew she definitely was feeling it. Vision saw you first and quickly motioned you into the seat next to her. He didn't bother stopping you for a greeting, he just let you be. Seating next to her was overwhelming to say the least, she still hadn't knocked out of her mind. Only thing you could think of doing was reaching for her hand. When you finally built the courage to, you reached out for her, her head barely turned to acknowledge you, but when she did it was almost an immediate her reaction. It was like the dam had finally broken and her breathing was erratic and her tears were overflowing. You pulled her up with you and into you. You put as much force as you could into the hug until she calmed down. You were just holding her. "It's not a dream..." She said into your chest.

Your eyes watered. "It's not, but everything is going to be alright. Pietro is strong, he'll pull through." She nodded. "He has to be okay, You're here. He has to be okay." You could only hold her tighter.

Something had changed when you went back to California. Your apartment felt empty, it didn’t feel the same. It was hard to pinpoint at first but then you noticed it. Her things that were always somehow splayed in your apartment were gone. Even the most mundane things that she’d leave there were gone. Her drawer and closet space were empty. That’s when the dread came back. She'd left…

Christmas was as bleak as it could be, it felt wrong to feel happy. You kept your word and celebrated with your parents. There wasn’t much to do, you and Tony spent a lot of time together during the month you had off of school. Surprisingly you survived and passed the semester. Things were grim, and Tony respected your space and left it alone as much as he could. Which meant that you third wheeled Tony and Pepper for the better part of a month. You avoided any and all contact with the Romanoff’s and they seemed to understand. Well all but one. “I told you not to fuck up.” You sighed. You were currently trying to open your front door. “I didn’t.” It angered you that she was letting this narrative run. You turned to look at her. “I came back, and she was gone.” You were about to continue when you heard the steps coming up behind Yelena. “I told you not to bother her.” Her voice washed over you like a bucket of cold water.

Yelena was about to argue with her but quickly shut up when she met Natasha’s gaze. You didn’t bother shifting your gaze from your keys. Instead, you choose to turn and finish opening your door. You could hear Yelena talking from behind you. “You’re just going to let her walk away like that?” You closed the door before Natasha could answer, but you still managed to hear what she said. “Yes…”

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