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ode2rin · 5 months

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1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

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“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending). You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is.

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge.

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.”

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

“I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face.

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate.

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?”

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap. Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage.

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected.

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning.

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted.

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.”

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea.

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?”

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty.

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it.

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.”

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs.

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter.

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious.

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.”

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street.

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser.

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways.

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

#☁️ my ode to you #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser imagines #kaiser imagines #michael kaiser x y/n #michael kaiser x you #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #michael kaiser #blue lock fluff #first milestone event!#writing: 004

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ashthemadwriter-archived · 1 year

Text

What if I...

—You make a tempting, unexpected offer; how are they going to react?

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Nikolai, Fyodor, Sigma, Jouno X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive content, mentions of giving blowjobs (whether it'll happen or not is up to you lol), unstablished relationship (you're just friends, but are you..?), rushed writing

Genre: Humor

Format: Drabble

Word Count: 1.6K

↳Osamu Dazai"

Listen y/n..." Dazai cooes at you. "I'm a little bit busy with... uh, work; so I don't think I'll be able to accompany you on this mission"

Shaking your head to the side with frustration, you bend a little on the desk, gazing into his Hazel eyes to show your desperation "Oh c'mon Dazai! You're not seriously gonna make me go to this tiresome mission by myself?! They're all politicians! It's gonna be boring as hell!"

The pile of paperwork on his desk are making you question your eyesight, but you know Dazai better than that. He probably saw it coming so he placed them there on purpose to prove his point.

...Not that it could exactly be called a "point".

"Listen..." Your voice is so low that only Dazai can hear it. "There must be some way for me to change your mind"

His expression doesn't change one bit, still looking through the documents for nothing, pretending to be occupied. "Sorry to burst your bubbles, but I really can't—"

"What if I suck your dick?"

Eyes shooting you a shocked gaze and hands staying still, it seems like he's completely lost interest in the paperwork. He's looking through your soul and the moment his lips start moving, you know you've won the battle.

"For... for real?" "Yes, for real"

The surprised face is all gone and instead, there's a totally new face now; a smug face of a man who's gonna team up with you for the mission and get a little prize in the end.

"So when do we leave?"

↳Chuuya Nakahara

"Listen Chuuya, with great looks comes great responsibility. There's a reason why you're this hot!"

The red-haired man looked away as an attempt to hide his flustered face, his voice still gravely. "Stop it y/n. I'm not gonna be your model for the photoshoot"

"Why not? You're the perfect choice!" "The answer's no! Get over it"

"Hmph! You're no fun" You crossed your arms and pouted as you leaned to the chair. You couldn't make heads or tails of it. Why was he so against being your model? You were just gonna take a few photos of him wearing casual clothes and maybe some light makeup. It was for your photography class and you were supposed to take a pic of somebody under the rays of sunset. With Chuuya's red hair and blue eyes, it would be a breath taking pic. He just looked so pretty under the sun.

As Chuuya took the bottle to sip from it, you found yourself desperate enough to give it one last shot.

"What if I suck your dick as a payment?"

And then the explosion happened. Chuuya's hand snapped, the bottle fell on the floor and drops of wine literally squirted out of his mouth. He was coughing so strongly that you rushed over and started hitting him in the back like he was some kind of ketchup bottle. His face was crimson red, but whether it was from choking or embarrassment, you couldn't really tell.

When he finally came down and caught his breath, he placed his hand on his chest and looked at you with eyes the same size as a baseball, meanwhile you looked at him miserably with the word "sorry" written all over your face.

"So... is that a yes?" "NO!"

Well, at least you nearly killed him.

↳Jouno Saigiku

"Ok I don't know why you're refusing. I'm just giving you the opportunity to make up for your mean attitude by doing something nice! You know, to go to heaven, like me and other nice people, Teccho for example"

Jouno was still expressionless. He merely sipped his cup of coffee and placed his hat on the table. "I appreciate the offer, but after a lifetime we definitely need a break from each other"

"Ugh you jerk! C'mon it's a piece of cake for you! You've arrested plenty of people before! You're smart, you're strong and I came to you for help which shows that I'm really desperate!"

Your relationship with Jouno was... questionable. He teased you, had a tendency to piss you off all the time, but somehow you were friends. The weirdest type of friendship that had ever existed, probably.

"I can see that. See I do wanna help you out, but I just love seeing the new you"

Shaking your head to the side, you leaned back to the couch. A hard case was given to you and you really didn't want to blow it up, but you needed help, and everyone else were busy. Except for your horrible friend here.

"Jouno, Jouno, Please..." You took his left, gloved hand. "I need you! I'll do anything in return! I'll team up with you and insult Teccho for a whole year! I'll write every one of your reports! I'll even suck your d—"

Jouno didn't hear your voice anymore. In fact, the only thing heard in the room was pure silence, and of course your heartbeat.

You were shocked.

He got his hand out of your grasp, placing it next to your head. His other hand found its way to your lips, softly caressing them. Meanwhile you didn't say a word, just stared at his handsome face and swallowed your saliva.

"Hypothetically, if I help you out, how far would you go to make it up to me?"

Forget about your friendship. You weren't that close anyway.

↳Fyodor Dostoevsky

"I'm going to go to my parents' with my boyfriend tonight"

"I thought you didn't have a boyfriend, dear" Fyodor tilted his head to the side to gaze at you.

"I don't! That's where you come in!"

Nikolai exchanged a look between your nervous expression and Fyodor's smile, and pouted. "Hey! Why didn't you ask me instead?"

"Yeah yeah, if I ever wanted to give them a heart attack you'd be the first person I'll go to" You sighed and looked back at Fyodor. "So? Would you please help me out?"

Fyodor was sitting next to you on a chair. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Ah... I'm not sure about that. Wouldn't it make our relationship awkward?"

"No! No not at all!" Your voice was rushed and shaky. "You see you're the perfect choice for this"

"Hmph!"

"Shut up Nikolai. I mean, you're tall, you know how to talk to people— in a satisfying way, ah, you know what I mean, you're handsome, you have very pretty hair, you have the most beautiful violet eyes I can stare at until forever..."

His brattish smirk made you shut up and give a few embarrassed coughs. Your flushed cheeks weren't exactly helping you out at the moment.

"Eh... So you're the best in many ways... Now, would you please help me out?"

Fyodor gave Nikolai-who was also smirking- a meaningful look, and his smirk got broader. "I will think about it"

"What's there to think about? You get to have a free dinner and also have a great time! My dad has the same taste in books as you! I'll even suck your dick at the end!"

You suddenly shut up and stared at the two men with eyes the same size as a racket ball. Now there was also two pare of knitted eyebrows along with the smirks. Nikolai's winking and muttering "Yeah baby" didn't help you loosen up at all.

Fyodor leaned closer until the phrase "personal space" lost its meaning, staring at you. His pretty eyes were sparkling, making it harder to steal your gaze from them. His voice was as gentle as the sea breeze, the perfect melody to caress your ears.

"So... I'll get to date the most beautiful girl in the world, spend a whole night with her and then get something afterwards?"

You were so drowned in your thoughts that you couldn't utter a single word. This moment was magical, making you wonder if he were going to seal your lips with his, totally forgetting about Nikolai's presence.

...Until he started talking.

"Do you guys want me to leave the room? Cause there's no way I'm doing that"

↳Nikolai Gogol

"...Which is why clowns are so fragile and have strong emotions!"

You shook your head with disappointment. "Yeah yeah, get it. But that doesn't answer my question"

"What was your question anyway?"

Ugh.

"Would you please babysit my cousins with me?"

"Hahaha! I remember now!" His face brightened with joy. "Well, no"

You leaned closer to him miserably. "Oh c'mon Kolya!"

"Sorry dove, I just don't get along with children. Not a fan"

"But they're triplets Kolya! I can't handle them on my own!" At this point you were literally begging. "Pretty please?"

"Triplets? Ha! Another reason for me to say no"

Well, that was it. You were going to be alone with your naughty cousins for four hours and then hand a burned house and probably only one of the boys back to your aunt because you lost the other two.

"Unless..."

Ah! There's still some hope left.

"You offer me something in return?"

Nikolai's face was dangerously close to yours. His smile was bright, but his intention didn't seem to be. Although that didn't scare you. It only made your body numb with excitement and through your clouded mind, you somehow put two and two together and blurted something out.

"Eh... What if.. What if I suck your di— Woah Nikolai what are you doing?"

A chuckle left his mouth as if something simple had happened, but this wasn't simple. He had just lifted you up and was carrying you bridal style to your bedroom.

"You took the hint all by yourself. How about that, my naughty dove?"

"K— Kolya! Where are you taking me?"

Your red cheeks only made his smile broader. "We're gonna get your clothes changed, go to your aunt's aweful house, babysit your horrible cousins, and then get ready for a night of fun"

↳Sigma

"So... How's the best manager in the world?"

Sigma's stare was still pointed at the documents. "I'm not planning a birthday party for your friend y/n"

"What are you talking about?" You smiled cunningly, lightly caressing his arm from the other side of the desk. "Can't I just compliment my incredible friend? Who happens to be an expert in planning and managing stuff?"

When you two first met, he used to get flustered by your flattering comments, but now Sigma's eyebrows only jumped in surprise. "You... can, but it won't change my mind"

"Pretty please?" Dropping the act, you got up from your seat and stood next to him, putting both of your hands on his shoulders. "I really need your help. I don't have a clue about this and you're the only one I know"

"I'm sorry y/n, but I'm caught up with work. You know that the casino is very busy this time of year, there's nothing I can do"

You sighed and sat on the chair again, desperately thinking about a way to convince him. What would make men do women a favor...

"What if I suck you dick?"

Sigma was still staring at the documents, which made you wonder if he had heard you, but his eyes were not the same. They were widened. He slowly lifted his head and looked at you like he was about to chop off his hand and stick it down his ass, and that made you finally realize it.

"Oh I forgot that you're three years old! I mean you haven't even hit puberty yet. Oops. My bad"

Yeah, Sigma needed new friends.

Tag List:

@pussydrunkfyodor @h8kolya @exhausted-doll @rosasensibles @nekokinax @paperllama @the-foreigner @arsonklee @fayenfim @c4xcocoa @asqmi @blueberry-writer @ryokuryuu @ayladove @sinfullysophiastrange @sugarcherryemo @whossuzy @sigmazcasino @linn-a-a @uottani @ilovechuuyaa @ezraiix @aeshiiteiru @dreamcastgirl99 @bestiewhat

Want to be added to my bsd tag list?

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

hi i have a request that you're obviously under no obligation to answer but i saw that you did a royal au for sirius and i was wondering if you'd be open to doing another?

something like they're in a secret relationship and they're at the same ball and trying to act like they're the picture of good behavior but sirius is being subtly flirty and a menace?

Thanks for requesting sweetheart! Slight deviation, they're not together but this takes place just a bit after the first one <3

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 2.2k words

Seeing as balls are generally marketed as the pinnacle of refinement, you hadn’t expected this to be so loud.

Every time the hum of conversation rises, someone keeps telling the musicians to play louder too, until people have to raise their voices and it starts over again. A victor-less battle. You have an inkling that it might all be easier to handle if you had just a bit more wine, but you’re on your best behavior for your new family.

You try not to wrinkle your brow, leaning closer to the man in front of you as the violins crescendo. “Sorry?” you ask, politely as you can.

A flicker of irritation crosses his face. You try not to wince. He tells you the title of his job again.

“Ah.” You nod, trying to look as though you understand the importance of this jumble of fancy-sounding words. “That’s so interesting. What does that entail?”

He’s thrilled you’ve asked. As the man launches into a thorough description of his day-to-day duties for the kingdom, you contemplate how surprisingly relevant a competence in lip-reading might be to your new role as princess. Is this something you’re going to have to do all of the time? You haven’t been able to make out half of what this man has said since he made his way over to you.

It’s pointless anyway. As soon as you notice Sirius Black standing behind him, you’re gone.

It’s been hardly a week since your illicit meeting with the Black heir. You’d munched on chicken nuggets, traded complaints about palace life and your wildly different upbringings. When a guard had come to fetch him back to his parents you’d hid behind the door, and to the best of your knowledge you’ve both pretended the meeting never happened ever since.

Now, he’s dark and gleaming under the light from the chandelier. He smiles dashingly at someone shaking his father’s hand, standing beside both of his parents and slightly in front of another boy you suppose must be his brother. You haven’t actually seen anyone in his family before now, but the connection isn’t difficult to draw; they’re eerily similar. Pitch black hair and pale skin stretched tight over delicate bones. Most horrifying of all, they’re wearing identical shades of black, the homogeneity of the men’s suits too precise to be incidental, except…

Sirius’ suit jacket shimmers with a silver sheen in certain lights.

Your lips curve before you can stop them. You hardly know him, but already this seems typical; he has to be different. Has to set himself apart. It’s less tiresome than it ought to be.

As though your thoughts have been broadcast across the room, Sirius’ head turns minutely in your direction. His eyes catch you and hold you.

It’s lucky the man standing in front of you doesn’t seem to notice how your gaze has wandered. He chatters on, unaware that your palms have slickened or that your heart has started pittering fiercely inside your chest. Sirius says something to his companions and peels off. He starts towards you.

You look back to your conversation partner, managing a nod of faux comprehension just before he reaches you.

You let your eyes flare as he stops beside the two of you, willing some surprise into your expression, but your voice comes out even more startled than you intend when you hiccup out, “Your highness.”

“Your highness,” Sirius says back, the faintest of smirks curving his lips as he inclines his head to you, then the man in front of you. “Lord Chamberlain.”

Shit. How does he know this guy’s name and you don’t?

Lord Chamberlain looks nearly as caught offguard by the prince’s notice as you are. “Your highness.” He puffs up. “I didn’t realize we would be enjoying your presence this evening.”

“Yes, my brother was supposed to be the only one accompanying my parents on this visit.” Sirius sounds even more polished than the last time you spoke with him. There’s an easy grace to his posture, an inherent knowledge of the tiny moves that allow one to conform to the etiquette of this culture which you’re still struggling to grasp yourself. But his eyes flash when they meet yours, a glimpse of that waggish boy you met in the sitting room. “However, during my last visit I found an interest in your lovely kingdom I’ve not had before.”

Lord Chamberlain begins to prattle on about the perfect astuteness of the prince, the many, many attractive qualities of your kingdom, few of which would be quite so perfect if not augmented by himself…Sirius nods with practiced diplomacy, waiting only for the man to take a breath before he turns his attention fully to you.

“I hoped you might join me for a dance,” he says, leaning closer so he doesn’t have to raise his voice over the music. “The next one is about to start.”

“Oh I’m not supposed—” You cut yourself off, eyes darting to the courtier monitoring you from the edge of the room. You imagine you’re not supposed to say what you’re not supposed to do. “I’m really not much for dancing.”

“Come on.” Sirius’ expression is teasing. “It’s rude to turn down an invitation from your guests. Isn’t it, Lord Chamberlain?”

Lord Chamberlain looks as though if Sirius proves that he knows his name another time he might be in danger of swooning.

“Yes,” he chokes out. His eyes when they meet yours are something akin to desperate. “Princess, it’s good form.”

You catch yourself chewing the inside of your lip, stopping as you look back to Sirius. You don’t think he would tattle on you for violating whatever atavistic rule requires you to dance with him, but Lord Bootlicker might.

“All right,” you say. Far less polite than society allows, you’re sure, but Sirius grins nonetheless.

“Excellent.” He takes your hand, leading you away. “Always a pleasure, Lord Chamberlain.”

The other man stands where you left him for a handful of moments, looking dazed, before beelining towards a server carrying refreshments.

“I don’t know any of the dances,” you hiss at Sirius as he guides you onto the floor. “I’m supposed to be staying away from here.”

“It’ll be fine,” he promises you, with the sort of confidence only a silver spoon can imbue. “If you just follow in the direction I lead you, your dress will cover up any missteps and I promise not to squeal if you step on my toes.”

You try to give him a droll look, but you can already feel it happening. You’re succumbing to his charms again.

There are only a few other partners around you, but here in the center of the room the noise seems even more overwhelming. Conversations overlap, laughter rings out, and music echoes off every wall in the large room. And just in front of you, still holding your hand, Sirius Black is watching you with his flagrant intensity. Even his eyes are too loud.

He leans close to your ear, breath fanning over your cheek. “Scoping out your dancing competency wasn’t really my aim,” he says. “I only wanted to get you close enough to have a conversation without shouting.”

You fear your thoughts must be bare in your expression. That afternoon in the sitting room was certainly memorable for you, but you were far from expecting Sirus to single you out afterwards. For all his talk about the novelty of you, he seems like the sort of person to have interesting interactions wherever he goes.

“Put your hand on my shoulder.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Sirius grins, and you realize your slip. No matter how the courtiers you’ve been assigned have drilled into you excuse me, sorry, pardon?, Sirius undoes all your practiced manners with ease.

“Your hand,” he says again, “goes on my shoulder.”

Just as you settle it tentatively atop of the faintly shiny material of his suit jacket, the music starts. Sirius places a sure hand on the small of your back and grins when you jolt.

“Easy,” he murmurs, taking your other hand and tugging you gently to the side. Everyone else steps that way too, and you let him lead you through the first steps of the dance. “I won’t bite. Not in front of your grandmother, anyway.”

You press your lips together to hold in a laugh, eyes finding your grandmother, the Queen, watching you from across the room. She’s smiling faintly, but the courtiers with her look less than pleased.

You swallow, turning your attention back towards Sirius. “They’re upset with me,” you say. It’s a relief to speak at a normal volume. You know your proximity means he’s the only one who can hear you. “I told you I’m not supposed to be dancing.”

“They’re not upset that you’re dancing, they’re upset you’re with me,” he replies easily. He guides you into a turn that curls you into him, his arm laying across your chest for just a moment before he turns you back out. “I have a bit of a repute.”

This, of all the things you’ve learned about Sirius Black, is the least surprising.

“So, you’re trying to ruin me, then?” you ask, half teasing.

Sirius grins sharp as a knife. He leans close. “Sweetheart, I want to ruin you in all sorts of ways. That’s just not one of them.”

Your momentary confidence drops right down to your stomach. If you thought you’d be able to play with Sirius and keep up, clearly you were wrong.

“We’re going to do a spin,” he warns breezily, saving you from any response. He lets go of your waist, holding your joined hands aloft and using them to guide you away from him and into a twirl.

Only, you go for it too quickly. You’re back in his arms while the other partners are still going through their slow turns. Sirius’ laughter barks out of him loud and sharp before he catches himself.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, resting your forehead on Sirius’ chest and shutting your eyes in mortification.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Sirius is still shaking with quiet laughter. His hand is friendly on the small of your back. “That was stunning. All the other ladies wish their skirts had fanned out the way yours just did.”

“Is skirt fanning really the object of the dance, though?”

“It’s eye-catching,” he maintains. You can hear the smile in his voice. “You can make anything lovely. Now stop hiding before one of your keepers has a stroke.”

You remove your face from his chest hastily. Your eyes flit to the courtier at the room’s edge before you return them to Sirius, cheeks burning.

His look softens. “Don’t fret, gorgeous, you’re not the only one who’s committed a faux-pas just now. That laugh earned me a proper glare from my mother. As soon as the dance is over, they’ll throw us into the dungeons together.”

“Well, at least it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to down there.” You bite down on a smile. Sirius, you’re beginning to notice, has a way of making all your worries about fitting into polite society feel silly. Nothing feels very serious when he’s around. Ironically enough. “Do we really have a dungeon?”

Another startled chuckle goes through him. This one is quiet enough not to raise any eyebrows, more’s the pity. “Not one currently in use. It’s a relic, with a door going out to the street so tours can go through.” He smiles, borderline sheepish. “I went on one when I was twelve.”

“You did?” You can’t stop the smile that leaps up on your face now. It shouldn’t be so easy to picture Sirius as a child, but it surprisingly is. A bit shorter and skinnier than he is now, skin and bones and night-black hair darting around and causing trouble. It’s an odd feeling to think that he explored your family’s palace long before you could, somehow both twinging and reassuring at once. “Is there a reason you’ve been here so often?”

Sirius looks genuinely surprised at that. “No one’s told you?” At your bemused look, he blinks, seeming to compose himself. His hand flattens on your back. You hadn’t realized he’d been gripping you. “Our families have been friends for literal centuries. My great-great-great-aunt was close with your great-great-whatever, and we’ve never let our claws out of each other.” He gives you a conspiratorial look, leaning closer. “I can’t attest to the relationship between the current ruling generations being quite so amicable, but we cling to each other nonetheless. Trade relations and all that. All that is to say,” he backs up, gifting you with a smile, “we really will be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Oh.” Your chest flutters with an unidentifiable feeling. You don’t know if you can handle seeing much more of Sirius Black. Every time you meet, it’s like he whittles away all your weeks of training and posture correction with a look. You’ll never make any progress if he’s constantly around to trip you up. “That’s nice.”

“You’re doing remarkably well,” he notes. You look up, for a moment worrying that he’s read your mind (he seems prone to doing that), but Sirius goes on. “I don’t know what you were talking about earlier, you’re a natural at this. My toes remain unsquished.” He gives you a secret smile. You return it wobbily. “There’s another spin coming up,” he says with a teasing glint in his eyes, “think you can handle it?”

Honestly? You think you’re already dizzy enough.

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shiratamahatsumiyo · 3 months

Text

Somewhere in an alternate universe where Malleus' sibling dating Leona and coming out gay to him is like--

Sibling! Draconia: "Brother, I have something important to ask you..."

Malleus: "How strange. Usually you would have Lilia assist you or provide answers to your questions."

Sibling! Draconia: "Yes but this time I am asking for your opinion on a topic concerning... my romantic relationship."

Malleus: "... You have a romantic relationship? Without Lilia or grandmother's guidance? How intriguing."

Sibling! Draconia: "Brother!"

Malleus: "My apologies. I am just amazed by the fact that you managed to obtain a romantic relationship. I mean... You do not seem to enjoy interacting or mingling with people. So this... Potential lover of yours might be interesting."

Sibling! Draconia: "That's the problem. I think he might concern you."

Malleus: "...He?"

Sibling! Draconia: "..."

Malleus: "... Sibling! Draconia. What is the meaning of this?"

Sibling! Draconia: "... I've already asked for permission from Lilia. I only need yours."

Malleus: "I do not understand. Why?"

Sibling! Draconia: "I know that I am only allowed to marry a suitable candidate by grandmother's suggestions but... I felt like I was hiding and suppressing the affection of me and my... Lover held for each other... Am I not capable of loving someone on my own accord?"

Malleus: "..."

Sibling! Draconia: "... If you do not approve, I understand-"

Malleus: "Sibling! Draconia, you are a Draconia."

Sibling! Draconia: "I know! Draconias do not have time for affairs with others. I must be prepared and trained to rule the Valley of Thorns alongside my family-"

Malleus: "Sibling! Draconia. Us Draconias must cherish the ones we deem worthy of our love and affection, or so Lilia have taught me. So whoever this man or woman might be, I will try to deem him worthy of the title of being your lover."

Sibling! Draconia: "... Do you promise?"

Malleus: "I promise."

Sibling! Draconia: ....*exhale*....

Malleus: "...Well?..."

Sibling! Draconia: "He's a bit irked about the thought of visiting you. So I am asking for your permission alone."

Malleus: "It's alright. Many have been intimidated by me after all, but I must say, it actually makes me pleased to hear that he fears the Draconias."

Sibling! Draconia: "His name is Leona Kingscholar--"

FUCKING LIGHTNING DESTROYS THE ROOF

Malleus: "A what, dear Sibling! Draconia? 😊"

Sibling!Malleus: "...A beastman by the name of Leo--"

Malleus: "BY THE GREAT SEVENS... HAVE YOU GOT STONES FOR EYES?! HAVE YOU GOT WAX IN YOUR EARS?! YOUR RELATIONSHIP WILL NEVER LAST A SINGLE SECOND FOR THAT RUGGED HOUSE CAT OF A FOOL WILL JUST TAKE YOUR PRESENCE FOR GRANTED. YOU WILL BE A LAUGHINGSTOCK FOR YOU MARRIED SUCH A SPINELESS COWARD."

Sibling! Draconia: "Oh don't be dramatic. He's not that bad..."

Malleus: "HE WILL EITHER PLACE THE DRACONIA NAME TO SHAME OR FORCE YOU TO BE ONE OF HIS TROPHIES THAT HE'LL FLAUNT TO HIS KINGDOM AS A MEANS OF INTIMIDATION. HE IS NOT SUITABLE FOR CARING AND PROTECTING YOU. YOU MUST LEAVE HIM AT ONCE!"

Sibling! Draconia: "Hey, you promised!"

Malleus: "YOUR NAIVETY HAS BLINDED YOU FROM THE TRUE NATURE OF THAT MANED IDIOT. HE WILL USE ANY ACTIONS NECESSARY TO SUCCEED IN CLIMBING FIRST PLACE, AND THAT MEANS HE WILL USE YOU AS A GATEWAY."

Sibling! Draconia: "Uhh, Brother?"

Malleus: "HE WILL NOT INTERFERE WITH THE DRACONIAS. ESPECIALLY YOU. YOU HAVE YOUR FUTURE OF SERVING THE ENTIRETY OF YOUR NATION AHEAD OF YOU AND YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT KINGSCHOLAR AS YOUR LOVER?! HOW ABSURD!! YOU WILL EXPERIENCE TIRESOME DAYS WITH HIM!!! YOU'RE FRUITLESS EFFORTS OF BEING WITH HIM WILL LAST!!!! IF YOU WERE TO MARRY HIM YOU WILL SUFFER ETERNAL PAIN!!!!!!!!"

Sibling! Draconia: "...Oh well, I guess the mention of marriage means I have a choice then. I will invite him for a little meeting in the dorm and I expect both of you to bury the hatchet. How does that sound?"

Malleus, pouting in a corner: "No!"

Sibling! Draconia: "Too late, dear brother! Haha!"

Malleus: "Sibling! Draconia!!!"

.....

Lilia, Sebek, Silver: "...What in the actual fuck just happened--"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #TWST x male reader #Twisted Wonderland x male reader #Malleus Draconia x Sibling reader #Leona Kingscholar x male reader #Leona Kingscholar x reader #TWST incorrect quotes

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fabled-fiction · 3 months

Text

Temptations of the Wolf

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: Being a Targaryen meant sacrifice. Being a Stark meant sacrifice. Both these houses know the service of duty well. But when war is amiss, and two leaders of these respective houses meet to discuss allegiance, feelings for one another bubble to the surface and get in the way. Oh how the winds of war turn would be lover on would be lover.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: MAYBE POSSIBLE SPOILER ISH FOR EP 1. Angst, Foribbiden-ish Love, Use of (Y/N), proof read only by author.

A/N: I AM A HOTD TV SHOW PERSON ONLY!!! I did research on wikis to try and write Cregan correctly, however I am but a simple man that writes fanfiction, so mischaracterization isn't totally unavoidable. ENJOY!

A dragon does not get cold.

A dragon does not feel the cold as they have fire brewing under their scales, penetrating not only their bones but also their soul. The soul of a dragon is a fiercely burning one, said to run so hot that their touch alone melts the thickest of ice.

(Y/N) Targaryen knew of this fire better than any dragon. Or that is what the people of King’s Landing had quickly grown to best know them by. Growing up within the tense house of Targaryen, especially during war times, justly called for you to have more than just a spine of a predator.

To survive amongst dragons, you must be able to breathe their fire.

Making every other tense occasion feel as though you were walking on air.

Perhaps there was another reason as to why you felt no fear as you flew North. A reason that bore the Stark symbol.

That is why, as Polarxes rode through the winter chill, with the wind daring to snip at your skin you felt calm. At peace almost, even as the great Wall came into view.

It was realized that in order to keep the throne that was meant to stay in the hands of your brother Aegon, relations had to be made. Families and Houses had bent the knee for King Visery’s heir not long ago, and it was soon made apparent that your family would have to make the same bend the knee again for Aegon. Just to make sure that loyalties lied with the correct Targaryen.

Whilst you particularly did not care for such politics, or politics in general, your mother had other plans. Seeing as you and Aemond stood as…the most intimidating of the family it was an easy decision to send the both of you out to ensure alliances were made and pacts bonded.

You knew that the decision to send you to the Wall was laced with more than just truce in mind. Your mother was a cunning woman, and recalled the times that whenever the Starks came to make your acquaintance you favored the nip of the cold family over the burning of the dragon pit. The touch of their ice, and the gaze of one particular wolf.

As your dragon landed, her talons digging in to break, you took a moment to yourself to feel the snowflakes rest on your warm cheeks and melt into the white of your roots. The cold felt nice on your skin that had grown used to the humidity of King’s Landing. To feel at ease in your skin, to have even the opportunity to cool off was an unknown blessing of this trip.

“I hope the ride here was not too tiresome for your dragon here, the winds can be quite hard in preparation for the change of season.”

Looking down at the boy, who looked no older than four and ten years of age, you smiled as you slid off your dragon with ease. She shook her head in response, her ivory scales offering her a sort of camouflage to the elements around her as she settled down. The heat of her breath alone melted whatever ice laid around her, the rest becoming swept up as her wings folded in.

Whilst you looked at her with admiration, you could tell that this was the first dragon the boy had ever seen. It was a mix of awe and fear that flooded his eyes, which you did not doubt also kept him frozen still in fear of her eating him to remain warm.

“Do not worry about her, she is not the dragon that will eat you alive should you make one wrong move.”

A wolf does not get cold.

A wolf does feel the cold because the wolf knows how to bear the frigid winds. Their fur having grown to shift with the winds that come with winter. They stand strong against the chill of winter, and stand headfast at the front of the storm.

The gaze of a wolf alone makes one question whether or not the storm bends to the wolf’s howl.

Cregan Stark knew that his house would come to be called upon soon enough. That is what comes with the winds of war. He just never felt bothered enough to actually busy himself with the calls of the storm.

But it became increasingly hard to ignore as a dragon landed at the gates of the Wall.

Especially when it was a dragon he recognized, that held a rider that had occupied his mind in the dark of the night as he stared into a fireplace. The lick of flames taunting him the same way a certain Targaryen had whenever in their presence.

He had begun to regret not knowing what exactly this storm of war would make him face.

The warmth of a Targaryen was hard to ignore, it made the men wish for the comfort of home as they were reminded of just how cold winter really was when left in their absence. A reaching hand hoping to grasp onto the hearth that was your soul.

Even as he looked up toward the wall, the announcement of your presence was made when he felt sweat beghin to build on the back of his neck.

Turning towards you he noticed the sea of men that had parted to make a runway for you,almost as if they were presenting you to him. Or maybe it was the other way around as he noticed the way your predatory gaze ate up every inch of him.

He should have felt intimidated just by that alone.

You stood there before him, adorning only the one coat that seemed to mock the furs that he had adorned in order to retain even a fraction of the heat that you held onto. Your head was held high as you looked upon the Stark, giving him the smallest courtesy bow as your hand reached to shake his. He should not have been so eager to be in your presence upon the precipice of war.

Cregan Stark was no fool, he knew the reason for your visit. But still, appearances seemed to be becoming more and more important in this age.

“Lord Stark, I hope I am not intruding? There were some important business I’d like to discuss and well…dragons are faster than ravens.”

He offered you a curt smile as he stood to his full height, hoping to give himself an advantage on the conversation. Or at the very least to provide some distance to distract from the pit that had been lit a flame from your very speaking of his name.

“You’re not intruding in any way. Would you like to take this discussion somewhere more private, if the matter happens to be so important?”

You were not used to the Northern accent. The regality of the South had become your norm as you dealt with many affairs there, instead of bending to the will of the many Lord and Lady that wanted an audience with the great Targaryen rulers of the day. Thus you were used to their customs, clothing and accents.

Everything about the North always took you by surprise, and assaulted every sense that you had.

Cregan Stark was no different. If anything he made the divide even more stark as you set your gaze upon him.

He stood tall, and unbroken as he looked at you. The Wolf of the North was everything that had been said about him. Tall, broad, strong…handsome. His steeled eyes locked you in your place almost instantly. You weren’t sure if it was because you feared a single wrong move from you would provoke the beast or because you wanted to soak in every minute of his undivided attention. Never had you met someone with the same resolve as you, nor the same gaze.

You knew now why people were so intoxicated by you.

He always had that effect on you.

Taking his hand, stepping onto the lift you couldn’t help but be drawn to the cold that laid on his hands. The chill that ran up your arm from his touch alone made you want to keep a harsh grip on his gloved hand.

When the both of you were locked in, it was only then did your hands regretfully break apart by the jostle of the cables.

“I’m sure you know why I have made the trip all the way out here?”

“Was it not to take in the view atop the wall?”

The chuckle that left your lips resonated throughout the cart, it made Cregan want to fill a book with quips that would draw similar sounds out of you. He smiled to himself as the ride came to a halt, and the two of you made the trip to a balcony overlooking the edge of the forsaken wall.

“ While that is a plus, I have come here as a courier from the Queen Mother. Whilst I believe you are busy with the responsibilities of defending the South from that of which come from those blasted woods, it would shock me to find you do not know of the developing situation within my family?”

His suspicions were confirmed. While there was no doubt you had come to discuss the usurping of the throne, it lifted some weight off his shoulder to know that you had been the one to broach the topic first. For some…unknown reason he felt hesitant to the idea of bringing up a topic that would only bring a scowl upon your face. Or any topic for that matter that would cause a crease to form between the bridge of your gaze.

But upon the question he found that you were calm and collected. As if you had not just brought up the topic of a deed that often led to disorder amongst the throne and council. Many of the men that served the wall had been sent here for just the discussion of mutiny alone.

Your confidence alone shook him, and confused him at the same time.

“I’m sure even the farthest reaches have heard of your brother taking his seat upon the Iron Throne. I'm confused however on what this has to do with me?”

Taking your gloves off, Cregan watched as you placed your hands on the edge of the ice that formed this pocket amongst the wall. Your shoulders dropped along with your head as you took in a deep breath. It was interesting to take in your mannerisms when it was just him instead of him and an audience. You behaved…well like a dragon. A foreboding presence that did not easily reveal their intentions, a ticking trap of anguish and fire. A continuous stream of steam left your nostrils as you took a moment to contemplate.

The dread that spilled from your exhale had Cregan convinced there was something more amiss this meeting of allegiance.

“I truly do not care of the affairs of my brother, he has rarely acted on his own accord. Thus why I am here, to gather support of others that will make sure whatever whims he does hold are defended from those that aim to make all of this harder than it has to be.”

Looking at the palm of your hand that had been grasping the ice with a fury, you noticed that it had only now just started to turn pink. Whereas you were sure if anyone else had dared to meet flesh with ice, it would be purple and dead by now. It was a calming reassurance to feel the calming touch of ice. When looking into Cregan eyes, you felt a similar calm as his brows furrowed into a look that resembled something of sympathy.

He understood more than anyone the weight of duty.

“If I may ask, it seems as if you do not have much desire in the battles that are brewing? So why come here to make a play with a house that is known to keep their oaths?”

Of course he knew the weight of duty. The Stark house was known to be one of the most noble houses when it came to keeping a promise. They had bent the knee for your half sister years ago, so why must you have come out all this way to try and turn their tides? You truly did not want to come out all this way, only making the trip at the request of your mother who had become a thorn in your side ever since you made your indifference to the throne known.

You knew coming out this way would not sway the Stark, but instead sway you.

“Who wishes for war? Only mad men desire a battle that would take their life,” Taking a moment to compose yourself, you straightened your back.

“Which is exactly why I come in hopes that you share the same sentiment.”

Your eyes seemed to hold all the emotions of the seven kingdoms. Cregan took a moment to compose himself, and remind himself that he was the Warden of the North. He does not need to consult himself on ways to keep the blaze of your heart lit. He had a job, just as you had yours.

Which is why he felt himself faltering.

“A Targaryen that does not wish of war? You are a rarity amongst your family (Y/N).”

Your name should have felt foreign to say. It was not dressed with honorifics, and he meant it. The lack of title that came before your name was with the purpose of bringing this conversation down to a more personal level.

He watched as you tensed with him saying your name. But he knew it was not in offense, he could never offend you. It was in realization of the fragility of this conversation.

His informality was sealed when he rested his hand on the small of your back. The both of you just took in the moment to look beyond the wall. Cregan knew that this simple action could warrant reaction from you, it would be justified for you to take his hand and his tongue for even speaking to you in such a casual way.

Instead you melted into his touch, turning to face him.

He took this as an invitation to invade your space once more, taking a step forward to move a piece of hair that threatened to obscure his view of you.

“You flatter me, Lord Stark. But a compliment such as that will only do so much to sway me. I was sent here for a reason.”

His title wavered on your tongue as you spoke to him. This just drew more a response from him as he did not move, humming almost in agreeance as his hand found its place on your cheek. For a moment he felt jealous of the leather that dressed his palm, for it had the honor of holding you truely.

“Hmm yes, you were sent here for a reason. But could there not have been another? One that you hold instead, that trumps the duty you feel to your house?”

He was always good at reading you.

Perhaps you should have felt unease in coming here, to think it would just be a simple trip to the Wall that would just lead you to return home with nothing but a word that the Starks were not aligned with your house.

You were blinded by the urge to see him, the want to make his acquaintance one more time before the realm tore itself apart. “Cregan…”

His name fell from your lips with a whisper, as if you were praying to the gods above to harden your resolve.

“Tell me the real reason you came here.”

He was incredibly close now, his presence shadowing over yours. He covered you in a shroud of snow, his touch almost paralyzing you as you remained locked in a fight of wills.

Who would win? The fearsome dragon or the unbending wolf?

“To speak with you. There are…alliances that need to be made in order to keep my family from tearing itself and the world apart.”

This earned a frown from him as he leaned even closer to you. He assaulted every sense you had now. His eyes burned into yours, rivaling your gaze as his scent came over you. There was a reason you favored the smell of leather and musk. It reminded you of him.

“Could you just this once make a decision that was not dictated by your family, but rather made in lieu of what you wanted?”

Your hand reached up to hold his wrist of the hand that grounded you. Your touch was searing, Cregan knew that had you touched his skin he was sure there would be a burn where you had touched him. And he would wear it with honor.

He wondered if a kiss from you would be just as searing. If steam would rise from the both of your lips as you became one.

The fan of your breath over his cheeks threatened the very resolve he was known for.

This very act alone could be considered taking a side. The both of you would seal your fate if you fell blindly into your passions right at this second. A thought crossed the wolf’s mind, how truly awful would it have been to give in, even for just a moment?

Your hand on his cheek, a mirror of his own action, made him clasp his eyes shut as a shaky breath escaped his own trembling lips.

He looked beautiful, in this very moment, you thought.

The both of you were so close, the desire of one thing burning in your mind as you stared at him.

You were never one for politics, but could that argument alone be excuse enough to betray the whims of your family for a single kiss from a man that would stand against them?

You wished to lite his lips ablaze with the passion of your touch.

He wished to swallow the fire that burned in your throat.

A dragon does not feel the cold.

A wolf does not feel the cold.

But right in this very moment they both wished the winds would freeze them in place, if not to hold onto the memory for just a moment longer.

“Cregan..”

“(Y/N)..”

The side of his nose seemed to fit perfectly against yours as he leaned in. Your hand rested up against the nape of his neck perfectly, anchoring both of you in this stance.

Just as the both of you felt a graze of the other, there was the annoyance of another made present.

The squealing of the lift cables broke the silence, and thus breaking the tender moment of the two of you.

It wasn't until they came to a halt did you finally step back, and Cregan was left to imagine the moment for only a second before opening his eyes to the reality of the situation.

“Lord Stark, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon of house Velaryon has arrived to speak with you.”

With a small huff of a laugh, you straightened your cloak and looked out over the wall once more.

This would probably be the last time you saw winter…the snow…and him.

Feeling his hand grip your chin, making you face him you could only chuckle as you held his face again. Only this time with longing and remorse. You were already mourning any possibility you had with him, and he knew it too as he looked down at you.

“I wish it were that easy…”

Leaning forward, you played with fire one last time as your lips came to rest on the corner of his. It was a quick moment, only giving yourself enough of it for the small gesture. You knew if you lingered for even a moment the Northerner would take it upon himself to seize whatever he could. And then you truely would be gone to the whims of a lovely passion.

Pulling away, you watched as he held where you had kissed him, before breaking away from your eye as you made your way to the lift to leave him.

But when his hand found your wrist, you could feel the fire brimming in your throat.

“Just…think about what I said…before its too late.”

Looking over your shoulder, you couldn't help but take the moment to study his face. Commit it to memory. Perhaps that is truly what you came here for. Not some silly test of allegiance, for you already had that answer before you even mounted your dragon.

No…it was to take in one last memory of the cold.

#cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #x reader #hotd x reader #hotd season 2 #targaryen reader #cregan stark x targaryen reader

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inkdrinkerworld · 4 months

Text

𝓒𝓤𝓟𝓘𝓓'𝓢 𝓒𝓤𝓡𝓢𝓔

Synopsis: James can make your days trying to get a story for your company really hard, he gets under your skin and knows exactly what buttons to poke and you hate it.

cw: a bit of an axious!reader, rugby!james, i used the house names for the clubs but it is not at all set in the HP universe.

wc: 1.1k

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Sports journalism is fun and rewarding.

You love going to the post and pre-match interviews and talking to the players and managers and getting all the insight you can to then write your story. What you don’t like is having to interview James Potter.

Everytime James sees you in the press room, he decides it’s his time to be the most non-descriptive, non-responsive to all of your questions and make it difficult for you to even write a story. He loves giving you vague answers that don’t answer any of your questions and it gets under your skin like nothing else.

It’s even more tiresome when he’s the team’s go to media-man because of his looks. He’s England’s current heartthrob first and their best flanker second. He’s beefy and burly, with curls that look like they’ve been ink dipped individually and dimples that throw a wrench into many a woman’s plan. It also doesn’t help you, mostly, that he’s the perfect gentleman the minute the cameras are on and everything he says takes on this sugary, colying tone.

Dread fills you as you walk into the media room, finding a few familiar faces before you sit to the back. You hope in vain that James isn’t on media today, maybe they’ll put his sweet teammate Remus on media duty. He’s always sweet and succinct, answering all the questions, no matter how ridiculous, with a grace and precision you suspect makes him perfect for being the team’s fly-half.

You’d even interview his rowdy teammate Sirius, possibly the best winger in the game right now, and endure his loudness and even his flirtations with the camera so long as you just got good answers.

Your hope is shattered when you hear James talking as he rounds the corner, your hands grow cold knowing that today is the day you write a half decent story about the Gryffindor team.

“Morning,” he calls as he enters, his eyes find you immediately and the smile he shoots you makes you scowl. It’s going to be a long press day. “It’s great to be back.”

“How have you and your team prepared for the start of the season? Knowing it’s a derby game must make it all the more exciting to be back.” One journalist starts, sweat already pebbling on your brow.

James answers perfectly, in depth and with the knowledge that you sometimes forget these players possess.

“What about the injured players from last season? Can we look out for their names on the starting squad? What sort of system can we look forward to this season?” You ask, hands shaking as you prepare for the worst. You hate how much anxiety courses through you nowadays in these interviews. They used to be far more fun.

“I can’t well say what we’re going to play this weekend, it’d be a bit of a helping hand to the Slytherin team.” The media room laughs and you have to bite your tongue to keep the scowl off your face. “However, we’ve got a lot of key players back in the squad, so I’ll say keep your ears open for some names you haven’t heard in a couple months.”

By the time you’re finished with the conference, you’ve got sufficient answers for the hopes of the beginning of the season but every other question was bypassed or you’d received a roundabout answer.

You’re picking up all your equipment, the other journalists all gone already. James hovers near the door, watching you for whatever reason but it makes your skin crawl. He has to know what he’s done.

“Can I help you, Potter?” You ask, lifting your head to catch a peek at him. His arms are folded across his chest and he’s leaning against the doorframe, something sort of like a smile on his face.

“Just waiting for you to be done. Wouldn’t feel right to just leave you in here alone.” There’s a bit of sincerity but mostly amusement in his tone and you roll your eyes. James laughs and pushes off the door frame moving towards you, “All done?” you huff and sigh, hoisting your bag over your shoulder and walking past him.

“Have a good training session, James.” he nods, watching you go with a smile on his face, one that spreads bigger when your perfume lingers in the room after you.

When you hit submit on your report you feel good but stressed.

What usually takes you an hour and a half to get done, took you twice as long because reports have been so slow during the off-season that you wanted to get it perfect before the opening match. Stretching, you make your way into the kitchen.

You’re sure half the worry was unnecessary and the other half was about impressing your boss. God knows you need that woman to be pleased with something you do this year.

Your phone rings before you can give in to that anxiety inducing thought, your stomach pits and the cup of tea you had to your lips lower. “This is Y/n.”

“Hi, I want to talk about the interview you just submitted,” Your boss is a bit of a hardass. She’s always harping about things being ‘perfect’ and stories being complete, so in the two years you’ve worked there, though you’ve climbed to higher and higher positions, you’re still the fresh and sort of peppy girl you were to her when you’d handed in your resume and appeared in her office in a blue suit.

“Sure,” you set down the tea and open your laptop, ready for a slew of changes or to change whatever she wanted you to.

“It’s great,” that’s high praise, yet you sense something in her tone. You’re almost certain she’s going to make you rewrite the entire thing to make the opening game of the season, a derby game no less, seem even more anticipated than it already is. “I just want you to add a little more about the history of both teams. Potter’s already brought in an influx of new fans, we want to make it easy for them to get into the season and get behind either team and feel the rivalry.”

That’s not what you’d been expecting. Not what you were expecting in the least.

“I’ll resubmit tonight by eight.” is what you say but inside you’re twirling and jumping around your apartment while morning sun streaks through your living and early 2000s pop music is blasting through the house.

James Potter and his non-answers be damned, you just got the best compliment of your work life.

449 notes · View notes

crypticminx · 9 months

Note

hello! could I request Felix and reader leaving together at an Oxford party and their night? THANK YOU<3 could be smut or fluff whatever you prefer

Hello lovely!! Here you go!!! Hope you enjoy xx 🩷

AN: smutttt, Dom!felix, small breeding kink, daddy kink and little bit of flufff <3 P in V, unprotected sex xoxo

Oxford parties.

Drunk people scattered around like zombies, making complete utter fools of themselves on the dance floor as loud hip music blared through the drums of each speaker. Copious amounts of strong liquor was always passed around and one could only hope they didn't get sick from sharing the mouth stained bottles.

Trashy to say the least—but classy in each partygoers pumped heart.

Felix Catton was known for always being in attendance at such parties and stemmed to be the heart throbbing crowd pleaser—that is for all the enraged horny females.

Practically throwing their limp, alcohol filled bodies at him, Felix wasn’t known to be a rejecting heartbreaker, but curiosity always got the best of him, leaving himself to never turn down a good night. Even if that meant following those girls back to their messy dorms.

However, All good things must come to an end, and what—or for a better word, who was finally good for Felix was none other than the most gorgeous girl on campus: Y/N Y/L.

Cuffed, taken, bagged; Felix could proudly admit for once, with a cheery smile, that he was in an amazing relationship.

So when Y/N and Felix started to arrive at every annual party, dashing hand in hand, they received the usual jealous stares from snotty singles and the more pleased ones from their tight knit group of friends.

This night was no different from the same, besides the new arcade fire song that was blasting on repeat. Although parties were a fun festivity to end off a tiresome week of studies, Y/N didn’t find the vibe as enjoyable as previous events.

Standing in the corner holding a red solo cup that was filled with more juice than vodka, Y/N kept to herself for the most part and only encouraged herself to drink by taking a few ditzy shots with Oliver while her beloved Felix was challenged to a silly game of beer pong.

Typical, she thought

Gulping the rest of her drink, Y/N tried her best to look for Felix and while she did so, she gave herself the time to elaborate a good excuse on why they should ditch the party.

The atmosphere was sweaty, humid, and a small stench of some lightweights nasty vomit sprouted it’s aroma from the bathroom. If that wasn’t a good wake up call, what was?

Lost in the haze of people who were doing some new stupid dance trend, Y/N groaned as she felt herself bumping into someone. Nearly spilling her drink, she managed to stop herself before becoming the embarrassment of the night.

She was too full of mental exhaustion—rather more frustrated to even look at up at the soul she collided into.

“Hey,” she knew that voice anywhere and instantly felt relief.

“Jeez fel,” she called him by his proufound nickname she granted him when they first started dating, “I’ve been looking for you like a mad man!”

He chuckled and wrapped a lose arm around her shoulder. Y/N’s eyes fluttered with awe as he did just so and she quickly wondered how in the midst of the grossness around them, Felix could still manage to look so perfect.

Ugh, just a quick glance at her man and she could feel herself growing internally hungry.

Dressed in a loose throw over that appeared to have not a single alcohol stain and his hair—heavens his hair, not one strand of his neat chestnut locks was out of place. He always kept his composure, at least that was one thing different about him and his inseparable sister, Venetia.

“So, ‘m thinking,” he began as he pulled Y/N closer into his chest, the smell of his lovely cologne filling her nose with its radiant clove scent.

“Oh, so you managed to actually use your brain tonight?” Y/N interrupted him, earning a swift tap on her button nose as he goofishly grinned at her.

“Quiet you,” he cooed before leaning closer to her frame, “wanna get out of here?

Her eyes widened in delight as she felt Felix slyly move his needy hands down to the hem of her plaid skirt. A slight clench of his hands that grabbed her bottom made her want to run as fast and far away into privacy with her loving man.

“I thought you’d never ask, love,” grinning like her face had no end, Felix offered his girlfriend his hand as they were about to politely escort themselves out of the way and into the young night.

That was until-

“Oi,” a voice chirped from behind them, causing the couple to swing back as a natural reaction, “and just where do you think you two lovebirds are going?” Oliver entered his way into the picture, something he managed to always do.

“Ollie,” Felix deviously beamed, “I have things to do.”

Felix could be such a smug little asshole.

“More like a special someone to do,” Oliver winked and lifted his cup in Y/N direction, earning an annoyed look of disapproval.

Oliver was just as much as an asshole, but that’s why him and Felix hit it so well.

“Catch you in a bit,” it was more of a statement as opposed to a question, but Oliver knew what the couple was up to.

Oliver knew better than to ever insult Y/N, but the more time Felix included her in things, she developed a strong bond with his pals, but Oliver had slithered his way with getting to know her the most.

He was welcoming, kind and graciously humble, unlike some of the many pricks that marked their way in Oxford, not caring who they belittled or how they did it.

“Whatever you say Mrs. Catton,” she playfully flipped Oliver off as he shook his head with a small chuckle, turning his back away from Y/N and Felix and into the crowd of people.

——————————————————-

“Felix!” Y/N giggled before she fell to the ground, laughing all the way down as she felt long, uncomfortable pieces of grass embrace her body. It was almost a tickling sensation.

“Shhhh,” Felix cupped his hand over her lipstick stained mouth, feeling her warm breath on his palm as it seemed nearly impossible for her to stop herself, “I don’t want to cause a scene my darling.”

With all her might, she moved Felix’s hand away from her face and contently sighed, “oh, but you always do, my love.”

“Feisty now?” He cocked an eyebrow down to where she layed like an angel in the field, waiting for him to avenge her with his sweet love.

“For you, always.”

“Then let’s stop wasting time,” he groaned, feeling his cock twitch at the thought of getting to put it in his sweet girl, tension rising within him to get the job done right, but to also make it lasting and worthwhile.

There was nothing more he loved than making her release herself in waves of pure ecstasy that came with her angelic moans of delight.

Throwing his shirt off somewhere in a small bush behind him, his graceful fingers took absolutely no time in undoing Y/N’s silk, button down and uncuffing her bra.

He was marveled at the sight before him and without any hesitation, he leaned down and began to mark her smooth skin with aggressive kisses that were filled with passion.

Y/N being half naked and about to do it in a forest; it seemed like something from a cheesy movie.

Doing the deed at a house party was cliche and reminded Felix of his past more than he liked to remember and doing it on one of the various campus balconies was adventurous—but a total letdown once it started to rain over Felix and Y/N.

However, now felt like the right time.

“Love,” Y/N gently spoke in between long kisses from Felix, “are you gonna take off my skirt?”

Y/N startled in place as Felix almost ripped off all of her bottoms, fearing he had broke one her favourite skirts he had purchased for her.

Fully naked, Y/N felt an immediate sensation of heat rush over her body and instantly forgot about all the outdoor surroundings as Felix yanked off his belt and threw away his jeans and boxers into mid air.

It was just her, Felix, and all the nights starry glory that was upon them.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he hands fondled her breasts, hard nipples graced the tips of his palms, “you’re beautiful.”

It might’ve been too dark for Felix to see it, but Y/N still managed to blush every time he complimented her—which was practically every heartfelt second they spent together .

“Fel,” she started to beg, “I need you.”

He eagerly placed himself back on top of her, leaving his hard cock to graze the outside of her already soaked cunt. In any regular situation, he would’ve been thrusting with all his might, but tonight he was feeling different.

“Not until you say my name, darling,” he demanded.

“Please daddy.” Y/N squeaked, panting for him to enter himself inside of her.

“That’s my good girl,” he smirked in delight, pushing himself with ease as his rock solid cock glided into Y/N.

“Mmm,” she tried to fight back a moan, but it was no use. She needed him more than ever.

She felt her legs twitch as they melted into bliss as Felix steadily did what he does best; fucking her.

“Baby,” he groaned as he maneuvered himself to grab her soft hair as he dove into her neck for more kisses, “you always get so damn wet for me.”

Y/N moved closer to his frame as his hands tugged her head to his face, his cock continuing to puncture her in all the right ways.

He violated her mouth as his tongue swirled in fast pace with hers, Y/N having to breakaway from his kiss just to catch her breath.

“Oh Felix—daddy,” she bit her lip, feeling himself plunge harder into her as she mistakenly called him by his name, “I want to cum.”

“Not yet darling, let me feel you more.”

Y/N toes curled as he let out a loud groan of pleasure, looking down at her flushed face, he was so proud to call her his girl.

“Mmm sweetheart,” he panted in between breaths, “aren’t you tired of Oxford.”

Oxford? Why the hell was be going on about school during intercourse?

“N-Not really,” she squeaked in response.

“Well baby,” he lingered his way back to her face, planting sloppy kisses as he felt her nails scratch deep into his lean back, “when can I take you out of here and make you my pretty little wife?

Y/N hummed in response, closing her eyes as they relaxed into bliss, “you plan on knocking me up too, yeah?”

Felix couldn’t tell if she was being serious—what is said during sex is not always reality, but just the mild thought of him getting the chance to plant his seed in his beloved made him turn ravenous.

He would do anything for Y/N, but if he could keep her away from any thirsty Oxford boys and make her his wife and potential mother of his children, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“Jesus,” he croaked, already feeling himself starting to lose his pace due to his cock becoming seconds away from releasing into her. “You have no idea, my baby.”

“Daddy—“ Y/N shouted through the bushes of the forest garden, “come with me.”

And like the perfect scene from a porno film, the couple came in unison, wordlessly twinkling at each other with a strong glimmer of love in each one of their eyes.

Y/N let herself be free and rolled her head back, enjoying the climax of her orgasm, feeling more than satisfied with Felix’s overwhelming stimulation of an erotic performance.

She sighed, “I love you.”

Felix, already trying to find her clothes so she wouldn’t freeze in the cool night. “I’m serious, y’know.”

“About marriage or…”

“All of it, my darling,” he gently patted Y/N’s head of messy hair due to their rough embrace.

“But right now?” Y/N sounded hesitant, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t up for it.

“Whenever,” he sat down to her side, passing her ruffled clothing, before leaning to kiss her gracefully on the cheek. “I’d wait an entire lifetime for you, angel.”

Y/N knew the time wasn’t right, they had their whole lives ahead of them, but then again, she could always stop taking her birth control and see what fate would have in store for them.

Though—for now at least, she felt at ease and more than happy to have another memorable shared night with her lover.

#felix catton smut #jacob elordi #saltburn #felix catton x you #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton #jacob elordi x reader #saltburn 2023 #oliver quick #felix catton fanfic

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maple-the-awesome · 2 months

Text

The Chain Meets His Baby || 2/2

Part 1 ||

Pairing: Twilight, Warrior, Legend, Sky x Reader

Requested by @kieradumpzz081927: I hope your request are open(or if ur free for requests), so i saw ur LU oneshots about the one that is called ' He becames a dad ' or smth. So, why not that he would introduce his kid(s) to the chain? That ones going to be interesting Warning: Some mature jokes here and there. Nothing major, but gotta give the new dad a little hell, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Zelda Masterlist 🤍Fandom Masterlist

Six minutes and twenty seconds. That's how long you were able to relax before a series of knocks ruined your peace. Predictably, the sound is enough to echo throughout your small home followed by shrilling cries from the once silent cradle mere feet from your bedside.

You could almost cry yourself, although you're able to hold in your frustrations thanks to the smoothing pat your husband gives your head before sighing heavily himself and sitting up from bed. All the two of you wanted was one second of sleep - one second to collapse in bed next to each other and rest your eyes which feel as if they haven't shut in weeks, but apparently, that's too much to ask of this universe.

After giving a quick kiss to your cheek (and smirking at your annoyed grumbling), Twilight slides off the bed and makes his way to the cradle. There, he skillfully sweeps the wiggling newborn into his arms, cooing the distressed baby loving as they make their way to the front door. Seeing as this precious child has only existed for a mere week, it can't really be too much of a surprise that your home has become a hotspot for visitors. Between the village children excitedly wanting to see their newest member and their parents stopping by to offer meals, advice, and all-around support, it seems your door is almost always open these days (not you truly mind one bit), although as it would turn out, your current company doesn't fall into the excepted categories.

"What are you guys doing here?" Twilight suddenly doesn't feel so tired anymore once setting eyes upon the familiar group. They're all here - all eight of the heroes of courage; his treasured friends. This is, what, the third time his world has somehow crossed with theirs? This is really becoming a common pattern, isn't it, and for a split moment, Twilight feels a strike of fear at the thought of this being the start of yet another long, tiresome journey. Now!? He couldn't possibly leave now! What kind of partner and father would that make him? You need him here. He promised he'd be home for you, and for -

"- There's no danger, so don't fret. We've already investigated everything before coming here," Time, who must've read Twilight's worried expression, promptly explains things while failing to fall victim to the same jaw-dropped silence that strikes every other hero in the group as they all stare in astonishment at Twilight - or more accurately, the bothered baby huffing in his arms.

Instead of mocking surprise, Time’s eye casually drops to acknowledge the little one, his lips lifting into a pleasant smile, “...And this must be the famous pup I’ve heard so much about?”

“Wait, you knew?!” Sky gasps, everyone’s shocked attention snapping to the Old Man. He pays them no mind, too focused on his main priority of being the first to hold his great-great-something grandson who Twilight eagerly passes over.

“Ah!” The Rancher’s once worried expression changes like a switch, flashing away into an all-too excited grin. As has been common lately, having new company around immediately sparkles a rambling spiel fueled by his flooding avidity (which has impressively failed to die down even with the exhaustion of early fatherhood), “I was gonna send letters to y’all - it just slipped my mind. These past few days have been a bit chaotic while getting all adjusted. Yep, this one’s mine - lil’ Lupin. He’s officially four days old, born at 10:14 in the morning at a healthy 7.6 pounds -”

“- You’re gonna have to write all that down for any of us to remember it,” Wild rolls his eyes, although it’s in good spirit as he peeks at the tiny baby with a small smile. It doesn’t take the other boys long to notice that, like Time, their Champion doesn’t seem too surprised by this situation either, looking at the newborn with only a little bit more interest than he would a cute puppy.

“I take it you knew, too, then?” Four quizzes.

“He kept hinting towards it at first until I finally gave in and asked. I didn’t know when to expect them to be here, though.”

“It’s been nine months since then,” Twilight points out teasingly, causing Wild to huff and throw his hands up in the air defensively.

“How should I know how long they take to bake! Besides, judging by the way you practically sent me a whole novel about how excited you were, I figured it was only going to be a matter of weeks, maybe a few months by that point. How in Hylia’s name did you stand to be like that for nine?”

“I barely did! It was hell having to be that patience, anyone here could tell you…but Lupin’s here now and definitely worth the wait, I’d say,” Twilight sighs dramatically, looking lovingly at his son who by now has settled peacefully in the comfort of Time’s arms, no longer squirming and fussing. To be fair, his ancestor does have quite a bit of practice juggling twins at this point. One is nothing.

“He’s a beautiful baby, that’s for sure,” Time chuckles, at last taking his eyes away from his newest family member, “You did good, cub.”

Twilight preens at his mentor’s compliment, “Isn’t he? I’ve been around other babies before, but having one of my very own…It just hits different, ya’ know? …I actually wouldn’t mind a couple more -”

“- Don’t push your luck, mister,” On cue, you appear from around the corner, tiredly rubbing your eyes yet managing a smile to greet the rest of the Chain, "You weren't the one who had to go through nine months of heartburn followed by hours of torture.”

“- Eventually. I wouldn't mind a couple more ‘eventually’,” Twilight clarifies, quick to hook his arm around your waist and pull you against himself the second you’re close enough, “Besides, you handled it like a queen.”

You roll your eyes while resting your head against his shoulder, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere different.”

“That’s not what you said nine months ago~” Twilight smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead only to earn himself a swat against the head.

Warrior originally elected to ignore the heavy knocking at his front door which threatened his peaceful morning's silence. Whatever this kingdom demands of him, they can simply add it to his tab. He's comfortable in bed where it's warm and you're snuggled in his arms, looking as beautiful as ever with a mess of bedhead and matching dark circles under your eyes. Best of all? Your son has achieved a new record of sleeping for three straight hours - THREE!

Now, Warrior is relatively used to less-than-ideal sleep schedules as a hero and captain, so having a newborn around hasn't quite hit him with the same force as it might a typical man, but that doesn't mean either of you are going to be ungrateful towards this new parenting milestone. No, you were planning on taking full advantage of it actually, wanting nothing more than to spend a lazy morning in bed until your little monster inevitably awakes...however, it seems the universe always has other plans.

The knocking only grows more frequent and loud, drawing a groan from your fiancé who finally relents. Pushing himself out of bed, he reluctantly answers the door without much effort put into hiding his annoyed expression - that is until it naturally snaps into one of mild shock and excitement at the sight of his visitors. Instead of it being someone from the Castle or military, he's pleasantly surprised to find his old traveling companions, the other heroes of courage.

"What are you all doing here?" He suddenly doesn't feel so tired anymore, in fact he’s stricken with more life and a bright smile while gazing over the group to count each familiar face. Yep, they're all here - all eight of them. It's been so long! Well, maybe not that long. It hasn't even been a full year yet since visiting Twilight's family together, but that's still plenty of time to miss old friends.

"Well, some of us have been talking lately and we thought, why not put some time aside from our busy lives to have a little get together - just us heroes, for old times’ sake!” Wild announces enthusiastically, practically inviting himself inside, not that Warrior stops him or any of the others for that matter.

“It could be a little tradition of ours. Once a year, type of thing,” Sky explains more professionally, although he isn’t any less excited than the Champion.

"A nice boy's trip to save you from the misses," Legend rephrases, elbowing the Captain’s side with a wink while passing by.

Warrior will admit: it is an intriguing proposal - getting away from the stresses of a hero to spend quality time with brothers who understand your woes. If only the Chain had visited a few months earlier, he’d be willing to entertain such a trip, but alas, he must give them a sympathetic smile instead, “As much fun as that sounds, I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you. At least not this time around.”

Immediately, the group’s uplifted smiles drop into disappointed frowns emphasized by a chorus of dejected groans.

"You knights and all your fancy work kissing the royal family’s ass," Legend huffs, and Warrior was just about to bite back on that comment with a jab of his own, however their conversation is suddenly interrupted.

A piercing cry catches the entire Chain off guard, many of the boys looking around wildly for the possible threat while others - namely Time and Twilight - are jolted by that familiar protective instinct they know all too well of from their own home lives.

“Actually, there’s another reason,” Warrior doesn’t hide his amusement towards everyone’s reactions nor does he hide his tired sigh once realizing his free trial of peace-and-quiet has ended.

He doesn’t even make it to the doorway before you appear, already rocking the baby gently in your arms. It takes some fussing from both of you to smooth his tears, calming him down just long enough for Warrior to turn back to his friends while proudly gesturing to the newborn in your arms, “Well, allow us to introduce our son, Einar.”

From there, it takes mere seconds for the Chain to snap out of it and instantly crowd you both, each fighting to get a good look at this ‘son’ in question.

“Since when did you guys have a kid?!” Hyrule awes.

“He’s so little…He can’t be that old, right?” Sky gasps.

“Only a few weeks, I reckon,” Time observes calmly from the back, tall enough to simply gaze over the sea of shoulders and heads.

“Hey, move out of the way! I can’t see! I wanna see, too!” Wind whines, shrugging to push his way through the barrier of bodies.

Twilight, steps back from the chaos to throw a playful smirk Warrior’s way, “Here I thought you were waiting for kids.”

“Us too,” You roll your eyes.

“Life happens,” Your partner merely shrugs, not even attempting to act ashamed of himself as he accepts responsibility of holding Einar while you excuse yourself to prepare a bottle once he starts whimpering again, “But we wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

“Geeze, you’re all getting old on us,” Legend mocks, eyeing Warrior, Time, and Twilight, “Not even three years ago, the Old Man was the only one of us in a committed relationship, now all three of you are suddenly tied down with children!”

“Don’t go sounding too jealous, Vet. I’m sure you’ll have your turn someday,” Warrior smirks, resulting in the other hero sticking out his tongue in disgust.

“As if. Me? A dad? You sure the world should be subjected to that?”

“Right. You might actually be doing everyone a favor by not reproducing.”

“Oh fuck off -”

“- Shh! Not in front of the baby!”

“I, for one, wouldn’t mind being a dad one day. It seems like a lot of fun,” Sky, coos, letting little Einar play with his finger, “If you ever need a babysitter, just let me know.”

"Careful. We might end up taking you up on that offer with how little we've been sleeping lately."

"Get accustomed to it, my friend, because it doesn't go away anytime soon," Time advises with a pat to the back, failing to hide the mirth filtering his voice as the new father sighs exasperatedly.

Legend isn’t usually the type to delight himself with hosting guests, nor is he much of an initiator when it comes to any sort of social interaction, so suffice to say, the Chain was rather thrown to have received unprompted invites to visit his world and home. Why the sudden open door? He gave no explanation, leaving all of the boys guessing, although Time has a few notable theories swirling in mind.

It all goes back to months ago when Legend had unexpectedly appeared at Lon Lon Ranch, claiming to have simply ‘been in the area’, yet Time knew better than to believe that. An experienced man like himself immediately took notice of his friend’s frazzled and irritable mood, such a state of dishevelment hinting towards one thing: problems at home - problems likely relating to you, to be exact, seeing as your boyfriend was swift to avoid any mention of your name when prompted.

Realizing that prying would be ineffective against someone so notorious for his emotional barriers, Time had allowed Legend to stay with him and his family without question. He, of course, kept a close eye on the young man, trying to deduce the situation the best he could from all those frustrated grumbles while working chores and pitiful sighs as the two sat together on the back porch after dinner.

It was then that Legend had taken the moment to ask Time a rather odd question that had admittedly hung in the Old Man’s head for days afterwards along with a curious conclusion as to the true reason behind his sudden visit, however nothing more was said that night beyond some wisely woven words soaked in hidden meaning.

By morning, the veteran hero was visibly relaxed when quietly expressing his plans to return home to you. Clearly, whatever troubles that once plagued his mind had been resolved following a day of reflection and a goodnight’s sleep, so Time felt confident sending Legend back on his way with a wish of luck and an offer to return whenever needed.

Perhaps that incident and this friendly invite are unrelated, after all, it’s been months between the two, although Time can’t help but wonder, the memory of Legend’s question being of particular interest as the Chain approaches their destination.

Some of the boys share their concerns along the way, a bit unsettled by the thought of Legend wanting to see them. Warrior even suggests the possibility of their friend having gone through a bad break-up, insisting there’s logic behind his guess since losing you would be the Vet’s lowest point, the extreme heartache being enough for him to abandon all stubbornness and reach out to the Chain for moral support. Arguments deemed his theory outlandish, however when Legend opens his front door to greet them, the boys begin to worry Warrior might indeed be a good prophet…

“It took you all long enough,” He huffs, his voice worn and scratchy which really sends home his obvious lack of sleep when paired with his unkempt appearance; heavy bags under his eyes and shaggy hair that stands up on all ends, “Come in, come in…”

‘Oh Hylia!’ The Chain thinks, sorrow for their friend already sinking into their bones as they illy prepare themselves for a story of true despair. Yes, Legend can be difficult and stubborn at times, and maybe you had your reasons, but surely he couldn’t have messed up bad enough to warrant you leaving him! Hasn’t the poor guy already been through enough?

“...Hey man, you doing alright?” Warrior was just about to rip the bandage off, his hand placed supportively upon his friend’s shoulder which earned him a sleepy look that falls sort of its intended glare, however before he can get any reply -

“- BABY!” Wind’s gasp pierces ears and makes several of the others leap in their skin. Indeed, if following the youngest hero’s excited point, it'll lead to where you stand in the doorway with an amused (that be it tired) chuckle…So, you didn’t leave after all? You’re still here, looking as rough as your partner which is probably excusable since in your arms is, in fact, a new baby.

“Hello everyone. I’m glad you could all make it.”

“...Oh thank Hylia you didn’t leave him!”

“What -?” Legend raises an eyebrow at Warrior’s dramatic sigh, yet he doesn’t get much of a chance to be offended. No one would notice anyway, their attention having swiftly abandoned their dear old friend in exchange for you and the baby you introduce.

“His name is Liron,” You note, earning a chorus of awes as the sweet little bundle scrunches his tiny face in displeasure towards the disruption to his peaceful sleep; already, he looks so much like his dad.

“So this is why you invited us over, huh?” Hyrule glances back over the sea of shoulders to send Legend an amused smile, “We thought something bad might’ve happened!”

“We wanted it to be a surprise…” The Vet sighs, unable to stay mad at the group’s energy, after all they have every right to be amazed. His son is pretty damn beautiful.

“Well, I’ll be darn. You gotta kid now,” Twilight smirks, even going as far as to elbow Legend’s side which, as always, packs more strength than probably intended, “And after all that hell you gave us!”

“Yeah, yeah, karma's a bitch. Laugh it up - HEY! Wash your hands first!” Legend’s focus is immediately diverted from rubbing his sore ribs to pointing an accusing finger at Wild who’s stopped mid-reach from taking the baby you pass towards him.

"I did!" The Champion gasps in offense.

“Not here you didn’t. Do it again! Sinks in the kitchen!”

Wild grumbles, forced to forfeit his turn in holding the baby. A glare is all it takes for Hyrule to follow him shamefully as well, allowing Time to be the first to actually hold the little one since his hands successfully pass cleanliness approval. Nevertheless, despite his spotless palms and seasoned experience as a father himself, the older hero must put up with Legend's paranoid hovering which isn't too unlike a hawk's, ready to snatch back his baby at a second's notice if deeming the situation to be too ‘unsafe’. Fortunately, Time's nice enough not to mention this behavior beyond a silent smirk.

“...What went through your head when you realized you were going to be a dad?”

Now Legend’s question - as random as it had seemed those many months ago - makes complete sense. The timid whisper that spoke it, the nervous avoidance of any eye contact, and that deep, thoughtful frown while listening to Time’s honest answer - all signs that pointed towards a worried father-to-be desperate for direction as he fought to keep his own insecurities and fears at bay.

At least Time can finally rest easy knowing their past conversation did some good for his friend. The young man may be fidgeting while impatiently watching his new child be passed around the group for each to see, your gently hand upon his shoulder only doing so much to relax his anxieties. You’re also both beyond tired, fitting to Time’s warning that parenthood is by far the most difficult journey one can ever take, yet there’s a switch of softness that overtakes Legend’s expression the second your son begins to mumble his disapproval, apparently fed up with all this attention that he’s receiving.

In an instant, Legend’s there, stealing back the small infant and clumsily doing his best to smooth such sharp cries. Yes, it’s difficult and nerve wracking to become a parent, especially for the first time, but to see all of your efforts throughout the years take form into such a beautiful and amazing being of pure innocence…that’s the most rewarding adventure yet, something Legend’s clearly already beginning to realize himself.

Sky's been practically bursting at the seams all day - well, all week, to be more accurate - but today is especially special since you’re both expecting a visit from some of his closest friends, the other heroes of courage who haven’t been by Skyloft in far too long.

Seeing as their reunion has been so long overdue, it should be no surprise that your dear husband has been bubbling with eager anticipation all morning (long before the sun had even risen thanks to your shared lack of a proper sleep schedule). While he does genuinely miss his old traveling companions, a majority of his restlessness comes from wanting to share some exciting news about a recent ‘development’ in your lives, one he’s had to hold himself back from spoiling in their routine letters (which are shared far more often than in-person visits).

Before you can even process the knock at your front door, Sky is already darting across the room to answer it, matching the delighted smile worn by all the other boys. He eagerly ushers them inside, his impatience finally spilling over by this point, something he can’t help. As already mentioned, he’s been waiting for this moment for quite a while - and has dreamed about for far longer than a simple ‘while’.

You can only chuckle at how quickly you’re swarmed by curious eyes, the other heroes not hesitating to stand and kneel around your chair just to catch a glimpse of the tiny bundle you cradle. To say it took them off guard would be the understatement of a century. It completely knocked them off their feet to realize what you're holding and what Sky’s excitement has been all about!

It’s a baby - a tiny newborn with puffy cheeks and itty-bitty hands balled into fists! She doesn’t even look real, or perhaps this whole situation itself just doesn’t feel real. In the Chain’s defense, it’s been years since Sky and you announced your intentions of starting a family of your own. Unfortunately, your struggles in achieving this goal became no secret, and your friends had begun to slowly lose hope with you. They truly worried the day might never come which explains their complete awe now.

“Her name’s Azure,” You tell them, wiping away the tears that bubble in the corners of your eyes. Curse these hormones! Your daughter is already a few days old yet you still cry each time you see another’s reaction to her. Can you be blamed? It only solidifies the reality that this is, in fact, your baby. Sky and you are officially parents!

“Congratulations, man!” Warrior throws an arm over your husband’s shoulder and pulls him close into a side hug, “You’ve earned it!”

Sky shares his laughter with a shake of his head, his eyes immediately drifting to yours, “My wife deserves most of the credit. She’s the one who endured all those long and tiresome months to get little Azure here.”

“And you took amazing care of us both throughout every second,” You point out just as quickly with a gentle smile, “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to go through this with.”

“Now we’ll have to start planning some playdates with all our kids. Let ‘em tire each other out,” Twilight points out, giving Sky’s other side a nudge with his elbow.

“Maybe being around Azure will get Hope to stop asking for a sibling for a while,” Hyrule sighs exhaustively.

“Yeah, no, that has the exact opposite effect. Trust me,” Legend huffs with crossed arms.

Wind’s hand pops out from somewhere in the back of the crowd, only seen as he eagerly tries to jump up and down to gain attention, “Oh-Oh, Tetra and I can babysit if you ever need it!”

“I didn’t think she even liked kids?”

“She ‘likes’ kids, she just doesn’t like being ‘around’ them,” Wind rolls his eyes at Legend’s comment as if the reason isn’t obvious, “But she said she’s been wanting to get better with them to practice the whole ‘being a nice princess’ thing -”

“- All of that can come later,” Time swiftly interrupts the wandering conversation, “I’m sure as new parents, these two would appreciate rest above all else for now. There’ll be plenty of time for playdates later down the line.”

“We’ll definitely set some up once Azure is old enough,” Sky chuckles in agreement before kneeling by your side to help fix the blanket around your sleeping daughter. Although there’s quite a bit of time until then, the idea of finally being able to participate in such arrangements is exciting to you both. No more standing on the sidelines feeling out of place with your hearts’ yearning. You’ll finally be able to share the joy all of your friends feel.

“You both look like happy parents. Congratulations,” You preen at Time’s compliment, looking to each other through tears in your eyes which then drop to Azure who snuggles closer to you, blissfully unaware of the effect she already has on your hearts as she merely enjoys the comfort of your loving embrace. Your most special treasure, indeed…

#lu twilight x reader #lu warrior x reader #lu legend x reader #lu sky x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe #link x reader #x reader #reader insert #legend of zelda x reader

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takenbypeter · 9 months

Note

Hi! I LOVED your Wonka x reader fic! Could I maybe request something?? Maybe one where she's the last one stuck in the laundry after everyone else gets rescued and he needs to go back for her? I love angst and fluff haha

All good if not! Love you

Trapped In Your Own Thoughts

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 961

I am loving all the Wonka love I'm seeing, every time I write for a new character I wonder if anyone will actually request for them so seeing people request for Willy Wonka truly makes me heart melt

Abacus, Piper, Larry Chucklesworth, Lottie Bell, Noodle and you stood in a straight line across from Mrs.Scrubbit as she peered from behind the counter.

What you thought was going to be a tiresome scolding from the woman turned into something unexpected as she laid pounds of money out on the table. She first stated how Mr.Wonka had settled a deal with Mr.Slugworth covering all your bills. And one by one she went down the line addressing every individual until it was just you and Noodle left.

“It’s funny,” Scrubbit says as she stares at the last pile in front of her before glaring directly at you, “Mr.Slugworth didn’t seem to leave a single sovereign for you. Guess you're not important eh?”

You stilled, unable to believe your own ears as Scrubbit smirked at your disheartened reaction. “…this must be some sort of mistake,” you muttered before getting cut off.

“—No mistake at all,” she grinned a toothy grin, “in fact your name didn’t come up at all. So don’t just stand there. Back to work with you,” she ushers and stunned you look around trying to wake yourself from this nightmare that you found yourself trapped in.

“Go.”

With a wave of her hand, you walked past them shutting the door behind you. “Now, for our dearest Noodle…” you heard her voice fade away as you walked to the laundry room in a daze.

You could not believe this was happening. Of course this would happen to you. You shook your head unable to stop the thoughts from swirling as you walked down the hallway past all the now empty rooms, past your own room until you came to the laundry doors.

Climbing down the steps and looking around at the now lifeless room, it was impossible for you to do anything but dwell on the whole situation.

You were stuck here. Alone.

Being here with a group was one thing but alone? That was something you wouldn’t ever wish upon your greatest enemy, (that is if you had one).

This had to be an error. Why would everyone else be free except for you? It didn’t make any sense.

Then your mind slipped back to what Mrs.Scrubbit said about Willy making the deal.

Did he know you were to stay back? No he couldn’t have. Right? Right. You tried to assure yourself before you even had the chance to doubt him any further. That man was too good and too precious for him to accept this deal knowing you’d continue to be held captive like this.

You went back and forth, replaying Mrs.Scrubbit’s words, trying to figure out what could’ve happened.

Was Mrs.Scrubbit right? Were you just unimportant?

Your mind goes back to those few late evening conversations that you’ve shared with Willy. It was kind of silly for you to think anything from that. It was foolish in general for you to think so much of the young man, especially when you’ve only known him for a short period. But you couldn’t help but feel hurt.

Was it that easy to forget you and move on?

Maybe all those experiences just meant something to you.

You could only grind your teeth as you dove deeper and deeper into your self deprecating thoughts. It was difficult to pull yourself out when there was nothing else or knowone else to distract you.

Your thoughts silenced as a screaming pile of bedsheets fell down the chute landing with a hard thud.

The fabric shifted and you spotted familiar brown curls pop out followed by Willy’s head. “I can’t wait for that to be over,” you heard him say as he grunted while climbing out from the chute.

“Willy…” you let out, more surprised than anything to see him.

“Come with me, we’re getting you out of here,” he declared, running up to you without wasting a beat, “we already gathered everyone else, so let’s go.”

He runs back to the chute, waving for you to come over and you do so. Willy prepares an empty cloth bag as well as some laundry so you have a gentler landing and he then pats the empty spot.

You prop yourself up occupying the chute and with your legs bent you hug them close as he scrambles to tug the bag up over your legs.

Thinking about it now, your wandering beliefs were all so idiotic, but for some reason in that moment, you couldn’t stop them from slipping past your lips.

“I thought you were going to leave me behind,” you chuckled.

You meant for it to sound as just a childish passing statement but Willy immediately paused his movements, his arms coming to rest on both sides of the chute around your legs.

“I’d never leave you behind,” he voiced.

It was impossible to stop a tiny shy smile from spreading onto your lips, “yeah, I know but, I don’t know it was just a passing thought.”

“Hey,” he lowered himself to meet you at eye level as you sat, “I would never leave you behind,” he repeated his statement from earlier, his tone soft and delicate yet firm.

It was a simple phrase, but coming from him it meant something to you.

A new concern popped into your head, “wait, what about the contract?” You questioned, suddenly worried about the consequences that would follow.

Willy replied with a smile that told you he already had an answer ready, “don’t worry about that, we have a plan.”

You nodded, allowing yourself to trust the boy before he wrapped your head tying a simple knot.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” he said, giving your leg an affectionate pat before sending you on your way out.

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka fanfiction #willy wonka fanfic #wonka x reader #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #wonka 2023

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tenebrius-excellium · 3 months

Text

About @elshe's "Hiccstrid had Zephyr early during Rtte" AU...

I just stumbled upon that again and pictured Viggo finding out and

tbh he'd just

He'd be like "you had a CHILD????? In THIS economy??? With the - the swords and the dragon fire and the capitalism and the - "

Just...utterly flabbergasted, like... "right in the middle of our FEUD, Hiccup!?!????"

And he'd shortly think about kidnapping her and Astrid to have leverage against Hiccup but then again he's wayyy too practical for that - does he want to deal with a crying baby on top of this badass female warrior who he somehow has to keep contained while she's raging for her kid? Nope. It's beneath his genius and way too tiresome. Can anyone in his camp deal with a crying baby? Also nope. Is he gonna risk actually hurting the tiny stupid thing over Berk's wrath and the total impracticality of it all? Nah. So. Like.

Viggo takes one blink at that information and just. Is so badly insulted that he just turns around and leaves. No more worthy opponent. Hiccup, you didn't take the game seriously. How dare you introduce a BRAT as a player. Not fair. Not okay. That's just not. That's just not how this game is played, my man.

Because if a scrawny teenage boy and a badass axe warrior dared to have a child IN HIS FACE while they're actually trying to fight him to death - then that's. That's just. Hiccup must live in another galaxy. More deranged than Dagur himself. Hiccup just wrecked the game.

Let me tell you, that baby is the final boss and it'll make Viggo turn around and just go far away to fight someone else. Lol.

#insane take: viggo grimborn is afraid of babies #rtte #race to the edge #viggo #viggo grimborn #hiccup #astrid #astrid hofferson #hiccstrid #hiccstrid had zephyr early au

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catsteeth · 5 months

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The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 8 ✿:+ Moon Door.

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-_-9

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: MDNI, NSFW themes, VIOLENCE, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage,

A/N: This is so late I'm so sorry yall- I was sick :-(

Word Count: 3398

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧

You sat in a carriage as it rocked back and forth. You couldn’t help thinking of the first time you rode to Kings Landing with your father. And now you are going home. looked in front of you and saw the face of Petyr Baelish. That same twisted smirk he always had.

You turned your face away from him quickly. You tried to lift the blind from the window of the carriage but Petyr stopped you,

“Best you don’t, my Dear.” He said, his hand on yours, “If someone would see you they would turn you into the Lannisters.” You didn’t know which was worse, Lannisters or what scraps were left of your family in the Eyrie.

You pulled your hand away from his, “The knights and guards of the Vale will know me.” You huffed.

“That may well be true, but that is why they have sworn themselves to our house.” You held back a disgusted frown at him, referring to your house as ‘Our House’, “They are sworn to keep you safe, even if that means to lie. To say they’ve no idea where you are.”

“Does Lyssa know I am coming.” You asked as you looked down at your hands in your lap, you picked at the skin around your nails.

“She knows I went looking for you, she knows I would only return with you.” He grabbed hold of your hand. His consistent advances made you feel sick, but also, think of Sandor. Like what he’d have done if he saw this. “I would not have ceased my search for you til I found you.”

“And how does she feel about that?” You asked, ignoring his advances.

“Should she not feel happy? Contented her husband wishes to see her own flesh and blood safe?” He said with a smirk

“You see a particular side of Lyssa.” You said as you repositioned yourself uncomfortably in your seat.

“She has always been predisposed towards me.” You tried to conceal yet another disgusted expression, “It would be only fitting she saves her best self for me.”

“She's like a coin. One side is an entirely different being than the other.” That was true, she often switched from hot to cold within an instant. You always thought it was cause she was mad. It grew tiresome after some time.

“May I be curious? When you fled, what is it that you fled from, and what is it that you were fleeing to?” He asked, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

“I fled my marriage. I was fleeing for my family.” Technically the last bit wasn’t a lie. Which made it easier for you to sound convincing.

“I see, to tell you the truth, that only makes my curiosity greater. Ser Cole told me you were not… cooperative in his efforts to bring you to me.” You smiled to yourself, stabbing a knight is not what you’d call cooperative either.

“I don’t trust so easily. Any man could dress in silver plates and tell me he’s a knight.” You said, “And truth be told I do not see you as family.” You said leaning back into the uncomfortable cushion of the carriage.

“And what do you see me as?” He asked, his grip on your hand tightening

You ignored him. “I want to see my family. My mother and my brother.” Not technically a lie either, only not in the way he thinks.

“I wouldn’t think you’d wish to see Lyssa. After what you’d said.” His grip loosened,

“Our blood is our blood, our name is our name.” You said, with no emotion.

“I must admit that is not all I am curious about. You fled in the midst of a battle, a great war. Not one person saw you, not one knight. That is all without mentioning that you managed to flee without a scratch to you. Completely unharmed. It would seem almost impossible without help. Strong help.” He questioned you,

“Lika is a strong horse, and fast. And I, a skilled rider.” You responded quickly,

“So I hear.” He smirked.

“Now I must be curious.” You said, “You described Tyrion bereft, positively. In your words.” You perched your lips slightly and looked down, somewhat saddened by your own words.

“He is. I have no reason to lie to you on such a matter.” He said, his smirk disappearing.

“Tell it then, all of it.” Your eyes are sharp, and cold.

“Why burden yourself with another man's madness.” He asked, almost immediately annoyed by the question.

“To torment myself with my own guilt I suppose.” You shook your head,

“He was injured in the battle.” He huffed.

“Badly?” You interrupted

“Not as badly as they say. Deeply cut across his face.” He motioned a slash across his face, “Day after the battle, he demanded the city be combed for you. He was convinced that you were taken by some Baratheon men, that you might be in the city. Dead or alive he wanted you found. Once the city was clear of any sign of you he became convinced you were kidnapped, soon to be held for ransom.” You looked back down to your nails you picked at. Feeling guilty, but not enough to go back. “You certainly convinced him of your loyalty.” He chimed in, “Or perhaps he underestimated you.”

“Perhaps both.”

As you approached the Eyrie, you were stopped when it was time to walk to the Bloody Gate.

Petyr stepped out first, offering you his hand as you stepped out after him. You took it reluctantly.

Reminding yourself to play the part.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Meanwhile, Sandor had been captured by the Brotherhood Without Banners.

While he was taken to an undisclosed location with a bag over his head, he could hear the banter of the men talking. But the sounds of them could not drown out the anxiety he had over you.

A big part of him wanted to push you out of his mind, to focus on what was happening right then and now. Focus on getting out of this situation. But he couldn’t ignore the pit of dread in his stomach.

His thoughts kept coming, over and over again, “where is she, is she okay, has anyone seen her?”

It made him feel a certain kind of frustrated anxiety, knowing he couldn’t be near you, to be sure you were alright.

He was finally taken to some filthy tavern with an even filthier bag on his head.

“What an uncommonly large person, how does someone capture such an uncommonly large person?” He heard while he was blinded by the bag over his head, until it was stripped. “Ah! Not a man at all- A Hound!” Thoros said, a man Sandor recognized instantly.

“Thoros, the fuck you doing here?” He questioned with furrowed brows.

“Drinking and talking too much, the usual.” Thoros said drunk.

Another man who had captured Sandor spoke up, “There was another with him… A woman.” Sandors gaze dropped and went towards the man who spoke up, a soft groan leaving his lips.

“You sure about that?” Thoros asked, taking another sip of his ale.

“Oh yes, no mistaking that.” The man said as the others snickered, making Sandor groan a little louder. He hated men talking about you, it made him want to break their jaw so they’d talk a little less.

“Your woman I’d assume, hard to believe but stranger things in this world.” Sandor rolled his eyes and groaned even louder. “Oh well, still a pretty prize, Lads!” Thoros shouted, making the men who captured him cheer.

Sandor saw two boys leaving the tavern, and behind them, a girl, the girl You loved so well and helped escape.

“Girl!” He shouted, stopping Arya Stark, “What in seven hells are you doing with a Stark bitch?” He questioned Thoros.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You had made it past the Bloody Gate, the Knights knew who you were even though Petyr introduced you as his niece, Lennora. They did not question you, and allowed you in. Ser Donnel Waynwood going as far to welcome you back as Lennora.

After twenty more miles of travel, you’d finally arrived at the Eyrie. It felt like a small comfort at first. A sight you once truly believed you’d never see again.

Stepping into the main room you noticed Lyssa seated on the throne. Seated where you should have been.

“Sweet child,” She called to you, rising from your throne “Come…” She said as ascended the stairs coming towards you, until she wrapped her arms around you. “My flesh and blood.” She said feigning happiness at your presence.

“Aunt Lyssa,” You said, feigning the same joy.

“You’re dressed in rags, my sweetling.” She said as she examined you,

“Couldn’t stand to wear Lannister colors any longer.” You said cleverly, avoiding further questioning, distracting her with her own biases.

“Of course you couldn’t.” She gripped onto your shoulders tightly, “Those monsters tried to marry you off to that imp. The very one who killed my husband, your father.” Her grip on your shoulders tightened, “He did not force himself onto you did he?” Her eyes darted to yours, staring deepening and intensely in them.

“No- of course not. We had not wed yet-” You stammered to explain, caught off guard by such a question.

“Still, you cannot trust such men now can you?” She said, her grip loosening finally.

“No, you cannot.” You said softly

Her hands ran from your shoulders to your hands, holding them tightly, “You’ve had a hard, and brave journey, my sweetling. You must bathe and dress.” She squeezed your hands once more before releasing them.

“Yes, Aunt Lyssa.” You said, slightly proud of yourself for containing such composure.

You nodded to your aunt and turned to leave, Petyr smirked at you as you passed him to take the back steps to your chambers.

It made your stomach turn.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

In the hideout of the Brotherhood, Sandor was tried for his crimes. Trial by combat.

As he fought, with brutality and efficiency, he could only think of you. He needed to cut this man down, to cut him down and get back to you. To find you.

Soon enough however, he did. Nearly cutting the man in half. Lord Beric Dondarrion was dead, but only for a moment.

As Arya shouted out and screamed, wanting him to be killed and tried for the murder of her friend.

Sandor couldn’t give this too much attention however as Beric arose from the dead before everyone. Within the cave.

After such a scene, Sandor was pardoned and set free.

“You’re pardoned, free to go. But all your gold is ours, to support the cause. It says it right there on that paper, once the wars over you’ll be repaid.” The man said, giving him paper pardoning him of his crimes.

“Piss on that! You’re nothing but thieves.” He barked loudly as he threw the paper onto the ground.

“We’re outlaws, you’re lucky we didn’t kill you, or go after that girl of yours.” Some man said, stupidly.

“Try it, archer, and I’ll shove those arrows right up your arse.” He said, his voice darkening. He couldn’t stand anyone speaking of you, even if they didn’t know who you were specifically.

“You can’t let him go! He’s a murderer!” Arya screamed as Sandor’s head was bagged again as he was led out of the cave.

“Not in the eyes of God. Go in peace Clegane, the Lord of Light is not done with you yet.” Beric said, as Sandor was led out.

But Sandor did not go far.

The sun had gone and the night had come. It dawned on him you could be anywhere. And he would have no way of knowing where.

That was when he heard the brotherhood yelling out for Arya, and soon saw the girl running through the forest he was hiding in.

That’s when he realized, If he couldn’t find you on his own, he’d find another way, and he’d get some gold out of it as well.

He grabbed Arya as she ran away. Covering her mouth as she tried to scream.

“Kick all you want, wolf girl. Won’t do you no good.” He said, dragging her off.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

While you bathed, you sat in the warm water, sinking deeply into the warmth around you. You closed your eyes, you tried your best to breathe, and calm yourself.

Sandor was a strong man, a man who cut down five men, a man who cut his way through a riot, and then four men after that. You shouldn’t worry. It would be silly for you to worry. But still you did.

As you looked at your body in the water, you could see the bruises left by Sandor. By his hands and his mouth. The thumb prints on your hips and the love bites on your sides and breasts. You ran your fingers over the prints, applying a bit of pressure to feel the lovely ache. It was like he was still with you.

You ran your other hand down between your legs, your other hand pressed down on the bruise again, to feel that ache, to feel like he was still with you.

However you heard a noise come from behind the door of the bathing chambers door.

Uneasy, you got out of the bath, and dried yourself quickly and you clothed yourself in a thick, warm, robe.

You opened the door, with caution, still uneasy. You stepped into the hallway, you hadn’t seen anyone. Even though you saw no one, you still felt uneasy. Like you were being watched.

You felt that familiar cold air flow through the castle, it only made your anxiety worse. ‘Tea would help,’ you thought. So you made your way to the kitchens, the only way to get to that from where you were however, was through the throne room,

As you stepped into the large room, you could feel the breeze worsen, the air colder, and the sound of wind louder. The moon doors were open, you knew what they sounded like better than anyone.

What was worse, Lyssa was standing over them. Staring down into the nothingness below.

“How pleasant it must feel, to be clean, and back in your Arryn clothes.” She said, not looking at you, still peering into the vast nothingness below the Eyrie.

“Quite pleasant, Aunt Lyssa.” You said, cautiously

“It was so kind of Baelish to return you to us. I asked him, why, why he wished for you back. It doesn’t make much sense, you’re the only thing that could possibly stand in the way of his position here in the Vale. Of Robin's position in the vale. And yet he feels responsible for you” Her voice felt sharp and unsteady,

“Lyssa-” You tried to begin

“Why does he feel responsible for you?” She interrupted you, her gaze shifting towards you quickly.

“I am your blood, I am part Tully-” You tried your best to calm her, to reason with her.

“Yes, Eloire Tully, The sister who hated him. Toyed with him, cruel and arrogant Eloire. You look just like her, are you toying with him too?” She said, her eyes were unhinged, and she stepped closer and closer to you.

An anger sparked inside you, “Don’t speak of my mother-” Your eyes and voice filled with disdain

“Did you fuck him is that it? Like those whores in his pleasure houses-”

You interrupted her “That is a vile accusation-”

And she interrupted you, “So you know the vile things they do, the vile things he lets them do to him.” She said as she pulled at your robe, exposing your breast and your side, she could see the large bruise on your side and one on your breast.

“I knew it.” She said her eyes widening,

You covered yourself quickly “Lyssa,”

“Who did it? Who did you let ruin you, you whore!? If it wasn’t Tyrion who did it!? Unless you lied to me!” She began to grab you, grab your arms tightly.

You tried your best to pull away, “I fell from my horse, Lyssa-” You exclaimed

“You think I’m a blind fool? Who did it? Petyr? Petyr did that do you? It makes perfect sense, You're no better than those whores in those pleasure houses, to him.” She exclaimed even louder, grabbing at you harder.

“He never touched me-” You pleaded,

“Then who did it-”

“I fell off my horse!”

“Lying whore!” She held onto your tightly and tried to push you towards the open moon doors, however the struggle between you and her was almost evenly matched. So she pulled out a dagger, raising it. But you were able to hold her arm off, “Why couldn’t you have stayed with them? Stayed far and gone! I won’t let you have him! You know what happens when people get in the way of Petyr and me?” She screamed at you as she continuously tried to push you towards the open moon doors, now at knife point. “My husband- your father, I killed him, all for me and Petyr!” She screamed, her admission however sparked a new kind of rage in you as you struggled back harder. No longer wishing to escape her grasp but to throw her into the moon doors instead.

“Lyssa.” Petyr said from the doorway, “Let her go,” He said calmly. Making the both of you halt,

“You want her? This ungrateful brat? I have lied for you and killed for you! Why did you bring her here? Why?” She sobbed

“I’ll send her away, I swear it.” Petyr said,

Lyssa threw you onto the ground, cutting your forearm with the dagger she had in her hand. She dropped it to the ground as she sobbed.

“My sweet wife. Silly wife.” He said as walked towards her holding her in his arms. You began to pick yourself up, your arm still bleeding.

“My whole life, I have only loved one woman.” He said, as she smiled. “Your sister.” He said as he pushed her into the moon doors.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The next morning, Sandor and Arya had begun their journey north. Sandor had hoped that you had done as he said and made your way there was well.

As he ate, he offered a bit of the food to Arya, who simply pouted and looked away from the food. It reminded him a bit of you.

“Sulk all you want. Truth is you’re lucky, you don’t want to be alone out here, girl. Someone worse than me would find you.” He said, his voice gentler than it was the last day.

“There’s no one worse than you.” She spit at him.

“You never knew my brother. Once killed a man for snoring. Plenty worse than me, there's men that like to beat little girls, men who like to rape them. Save your cousin from some of them.`` He said lightly,

“You’re lying.” Arya said in disbelief.

“Ask her. You’ll be seeing her soon enough, you just ask her who came back for her during the riots.” He restated confidently.

“Is that the Blackwater?” Arya asked looking at a large river they approached,

“Blackwater? Where do you think I’m taking you girl?” He asked

“Back to King's Landing, Joffrey and the Queen? My cousin?”

“Fuck Joffrey, fuck the Queen. That’s the red fork, I’m taking you to the Twins.” He sounded somewhat offended.

“But why?”

“Because your mother and brother will be there, they’ll pay for you, and maybe even your cousin will be there.”

“Why would they be at the Twins?”

“Those outlaws you love so much never told you? The whole countrysides yapping about it. Your uncle is marrying one of the Frey girls. Your cousin’s probably heard about it too, she’ll be heading there.”

“Why do you care if she’ll be there?” She asked, almost annoyed by his constant mentioning of you.

Sandor ignored her question, “Quit your yapping, and we might make it for the wedding.”

NOTE: Hey all you cool cats and kittens, I wish I had one of those iconic A03 author excuse notes like I got hit by a bus or was getting my PHD and that's why this chapter is late, but I don’t I was just a little sick and binged TV. But we are here now, this chapter felt a little clunky and it was definitely a challenge getting Sandor and Y/N to still feel connected to the same story. I am very excited for what I have planned in the coming chapters. K love you, xoxo Bambi ꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱ Beloved Tags: @dontfollowjuststuff @helpmeescapethisreality

@merfic

@Broadsdrinkwhisky

@the-queen-of-sorrows

@eddiesbongwater

@not-neverland06

@symonedoesart

@wyvernnest

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ofstarsandvibranium · 3 months

Text

Precious Truths: Part 9

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

You bow, nod, and chit chat with all of the guests that approach you and James. You were never one for attention. Your social manners were beginning to wane the more time you spent around people.

James, sensing your wavering attention, excuses you and himself from the current couple in front of you, guiding you to the refreshments.

"Are you well. cheri?"

You nod, "Yes. Just-um..."

"Too many people?" he asks with an understanding look in his eyes. When you nod again, he slips his hand into yours, "Let us have a break then, shall we? I'm sure Daphne and Simon will entertain everyone in our absence."

He pulls you away from the people gathered around the gardens. He guides you closer towards the castle where there's a bench that you and he can sit on.

You sit beside him with a sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder, "Thank you. I'm not used to all this attention. It’s a bit much.”

"It's alright. I'm not fond of it either. I suppose it wasn't the best idea to have a duchess host our engagement ball, hm?"

You giggle, "No, it was not."

"Y/N," you hear your name and turn. You immediately squeal when you see who it is, "PENELOPE!"

You leave your fiance's side to hug your friend, "I didn't know you'd be coming!"

Colin joins his wife's side, "We arrived home early this morning. Just in time to travel with my family to come here."

You hug Colin, "It's so good to see you both! We must talk later about your travels!"

"Of course. I must ask, why are you away from everyone? Are you well?" the newly married Bridgerton brother asks with concern.

James joins you at your side, hand on your waist, "She was feeling a bit tiresome from all the fanfare."

Colin nods, "Understandable. It seems my sister has outdone herself." He looks around at the castle gardens with an impressed expression.

James outstretches a hand, "James Montclair."

Penelope and Colin nod, "A pleasure to meet you, my Lord," Penelope says with a polite smile.

You gesture to the couple, "This is Colin and Penelope Bridgerton. They were away on their honeymoon which is why you haven't met them until now."

James smiles, "More Bridgertons!" His exclamation coming from his playful, joking side.

Colin chuckles, "Yes, we are a large bunch. I hope they haven't given you any trouble, my Lord."

"None at all. They have all been most welcoming, especially your sister and his Grace."

"I'd be delighted to relay the message to my mother. She'd be very proud to know Daphne has been treating you well. Speaking of," he looks back to you, "they were looking for you, Y/N. But I shall stall them until you are ready."

You nod desperately, "Colin Bridgerton, you are my savior!" The man nods and proceeds to guide Penelope away from you. Your friend gives you a wave before following her husband towards the rest of the guests.

You settle back onto the bench and lean against James once more. Silence falls over both of you as you listen to the distant sounds of music and chatter.

You think about the night you met with Benedict at your secret spot. Yes, you spent a majority of the time talking but when there were lulls in the conversation, the silence between you two never felt awkward. There was always a sense of comfort and familiarity.

You feel that now with James. The realization causes you to abruptly sit up and clear your throat, "I think I'm well rested enough."

You spring to your feet, James following you with concern, "Are you sure?" His hand on your elbow anchors you to a stop. You look into his dark brown eyes, filled with concern and care.

You smile at him, reaching out to place a hand on his cheek, "Positive."

"Alright,” he softly smiles back but furrows his brow in seriousness, “However, if you feel that way again, let me know and we can have another break."

You cup his face with both hands now, "Thank you. You are too kind to me, my Lord.”

James takes your hands and kisses your palms. He continues to hold your hand as you two walk back towards the gardens to continue mingling with your guests.

______________________

Violet's eyes brighten when she sees you and James coming to approach her, "There you are, my dear!" she rushes over to you and hugs you.

You chuckle, "Hello, my Lady. I apologize for our brief absence. I just needed a moment to breathe."

The dowager nods, "Of course. I imagine this can be a bit overwhelming for you."

"Yes, but luckily I have James as my side," you look at your fiancé fondly. You then turn back to Violet, "All of your family is here, yes?"

"All but Benedict, I'm afraid," she replies dejectedly.

You frown, "Benedict didn't come?"

She shakes her head, "No, he had prior engagements. I'm sorry, my dear. I know you wanted him here." She holds your hand reassuringly, giving you a look of sympathy.

You sigh, your shoulders falling in dejectedness, "I'm sure it must've been important then."

"Yes. He has a meeting with the headmaster of an art academy."

You smile brightly, but your smile doesn't meet your eyes, "That's wonderful! I shall send him my congratulations."

Sensing the sadness fall over you, James clears his throat, "Mon cher, would you like to dance?"

"Yes! Of course!" you excuse yourself from Violet and follow James to the dance floor. As the ensemble plays, you and he follows the choreography that everyone knows by heart.

As your bodies sway to the soft melody, James asks, "Are you alright? I noticed you seemed sad at Benedict's absence."

You sigh, "I'm sad but also happy for him. He'd always loved art and then there was an incident that happened last year that dimmed his love for it. But it seems he's grown his confidence again, so it is good to see him continue his passions. But he is one of my dearest friends, so it does sadden me a bit that he isn't here."

"We shall make sure he's at the wedding then, hm?"

"Of course. Whatever it takes," you state with finality and it makes James smile.

He takes your hand, twirling you around like the other dancers. It makes you giggle. There is now a lightness in the air as you two dance. James keeps his eyes on you. They're soft, filled with love and light. A hint of a smile remains on his lips and it only grows as the music and movement progresses.

When the song comes to an end, James rests his forehead against yours.

"I love you," he murmurs.

It's the first time he's said those three words to you. Although you know he's felt this way, through his words and actions, it is very well known. But hearing it out loud, it's brought a tinge of uneasiness. You are very fond of James. He's become a great companion over these few weeks. He's made you laugh, made you feel cared for. You know your future with him will be filled with stability, comfort, and ease.

So why can't you bring yourself to say those three words back?

You open your mouth to reply but James beats you to it, "I know it has been only a short time, but my mother had always said that when you have love for someone, to never let it go. To embrace it fully. I never expected to fall in love again after Maria's passing. To find companionship, friendship was all I expected to find, but I found love again. It may be too soon for you to feel the same and I understand. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thank you. I am fond of you, James. But I am sure, over time, I will grow to love you just the same."

He takes your hand and kisses it, "I look forward to it."

_______________________

Benedict should feel elated. He should be all smiles and buzzing with excitement. But he isn’t. He’s at a standstill. The headmaster at the academy had offered him a spot! He accepted it with gratefulness, but now as he’s heading back home, he’s thinking about what this could mean. He’d be away from his family, away from you. But perhaps that would be a good thing. He wouldn’t have to see you with Montclair. He wouldn’t experience his heart breaking every time he saw you on the arm of the marquess. However, a part of Benedict, the sad, yearning part of him, doesn’t want to be away from you. He never wants to be away from you because with you, he is complete. However, he lost his chance. He had so many opportunities and now his time is up.

It’s time to let you go.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #f!reader #female!reader #fem!reader

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