#lessons in chivalry fic

[spookysanta]

Can u do a spin version of Lessons in Chivalry? Like reader has a hard time understanding as to why he wants to do all this things for even though she is pretty capable of doing all the things that Michael wants to do for her. She loves her independents and has self satisfaction when she can take care of herself without having to rely on a man even if he is being a gentleman.

I may be projecting but when I read this I was like would I let my man do this for me I don’t know. I would see myself sadly getting a little irritated by the fact I couldn’t spend my money and having to hear “you could have just used my card” well I don’t because I have my own money. U can just completely ignore this if you want.

No hate to the fic or you as a writer. Love the fics you make ❤️

Hi bby! Thank you for asking this. I think this is a great spin-off idea. Especially since a lot — not all — of us were ingrained with the idea that we had to do things ourselves, grow up quick, etc. So our hyperindependence is not something that we can just.. let go of. And I’m definitely in that category, too.

Here’s what I’m thinking about it.

His love language is acts of service, for sure. So it doesn’t always register to him that you’d want to do things on your own, for yourself.

And it would definitely be an argument, too. Because though you like that he loves you enough to literally uproot his entire day, just to make sure you’re taken care of, he doesn’t have to do that. You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and just because he’s come along, that doesn’t mean that he gets to swoop in and just… make your hard work up to now obsolete.

—

You stand at the kitchen counter, your fingers drumming a frustrated rhythm on the cool marble. The overhead light casts a soft glow, catching on the half-eaten takeout containers littering the sink, clear evidence of the kind of day it’s been. A headache throbs behind your eyes, and all you want is to sit down with a glass of wine and breathe.

But Michael’s voice cuts through the room, gentle but unrelenting. “Hey, I took care of the car today. Oil change, new wipers, and I paid the mechanic already.”

You blink, stunned for a moment. “You… what?”

He grins, like he’s done something wonderful. “Yeah. Thought I’d save you the trouble. They said it was overdue.”

You can feel your heart sink, like he’s cracked something open you’ve been holding together with spit and willpower. “Michael, I told you I was handling that.”

His brows draw together, his smile fading. “No I know, but I had time, and I figured—”

“No,” you interrupt, voice sharper than you intend. “You figured you could handle it better. Like I’m some little girl who can’t keep up with her own shit.”

His jaw tightens, his hands bracing against the counter. “That’s not what I meant. I was just trying to help.”

You feel the tears sting, but you refuse to let them fall. “It’s not helpful when you just — do it without asking me. I budgeted for that, Michael. I was gonna handle it. I like knowing I can take care of myself.”

He runs a hand over his face, that familiar furrow between his brows deepening. “I know you can. I know you don’t need me for everything.”

“Then why do you keep swooping in?” Your voice cracks, raw and trembling. “Why does it feel like you’re always fixing things before I even get a chance to try?”

His eyes meet yours, dark and soft and somehow so damn apologetic it makes your chest ache. “Because that’s how I show I care. That’s how I was raised, okay? You take care of the people you love. You take things off their plate so they can breathe.”

“But what if I want to handle my own plate, Michael?” You drop your gaze, shoulders heavy. “What if I need that to feel like myself?”

Silence stretches between you, thick and humming with unspoken things. He steps closer, his warmth wrapping around you even though he doesn’t touch you yet. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. I see you running yourself ragged all the time, and it makes me want to help. I’ll ask next time, okay? I’ll let you do your thing.”

Your eyes lift, meeting his. You nod stiffly, slightly hating that this is the hill you’re choosing to die on. “I know. I don’t mind you trying to help, and most of the time it is helpful, even though it makes me feel weird.” You let out a heavy sigh, like you didn’t realize this was sitting so heavily on your shoulders. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you away, I just … need to feel like I can stand on my own two feet sometimes.”

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. “And you do. Every day, you prove that to me. I just need to get better at proving to you that I see it.”

You lean into his touch, your anger fading as quickly as it came. “I love you.”

He smiles, soft and knowing. “I love you too. Even when you’re mad at me.”

—

I think overall there’d be a compromise. Like he wouldn’t cart you around everywhere as much, or he’d back off on the credit card thing — unless it’s for big purchases. He’s not budging on that.

And he’d also ease up on the lectures. I think part of the reason he used to be so adamant about it is because he’s seen your frustration and exhaustion as a result of overworking yourself and stressing about finances. Because when you first started dating, there’d be that clear discrepancy of yes, you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but obviously, he’s in a completely different tax bracket. 

So his perspective would be that, he’s in a position to allow you to relax and, in his mind, it’d be the perfect dynamic where he handles everything so that his pretty girl can just be … pretty. No money stress. No car stress. Nothing. But for you, that's just not reasonable (all the time).

The other thing that I think would have to ultimately be a mutual compromise, would be like what things do you handle on your own? I think for him, his biggest thing would be to make you feel like you’re able to maintain your independence but not fall into the trap of not asking for help when you actually need it.

So maybe he’d handle your car’s insurance and gas (he’s not budging on pumping your gas, either), while you handle maintenance. We know he loves to cook, so you might get groceries on your way home from yoga (both paid for with your own money), and he’ll cook for you.

But there are also some things that you’ll willingly let him handle because.. duh. Like personally, I don’t want to pay for my nails — all the shit I get done on my nails? shieeeet take this bill, pls (one of these days I’ll share a pic). 

Or my hair. 

Or a spa day.

Or trips. I want to glide when I travel. So in my head, that’d fully be on him.

Ultimately, his goal would be to prove to you that he’s all in. No holds barred, no questions about his commitment — just you. And because you’re his person, and more importantly, he’s your person, there’d have to be a rhythm that you find where there’s a balance between letting him have his moment, and him letting you have yours.

Hopefully that answers your question, my love! ❤️

[fairysluna]

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic

[cozage]

A Journey of Two Cooks

Chapter 1: Introduction

Next Chapter | Masterlist| | Read on AO3

A/N: Just a short Sanji fic that I wrote a while ago but never posted :) Word Count: 1k Characters: female reader x Sanji

---

He came into your life like a knight in shining armor. 

Not that you needed one. But it was certainly nice to have. 

You had been shopping for your crew, trying to find the correct ingredients to prepare some of your best dishes. You never knew what the New World had in store, so it was best to stock up when you got the chance. 

And then a group of men shoved you to the ground, demanding your money and your possessions. 

You were just about to teach them a lesson when a blonde-haired man roundhouse kicked them all at once, instantly knocking them unconscious. 

“Are you okay, my lady?” He asked, extending a hand out to you. 

“Yes, thank you.” Normally you wouldn’t have taken a stranger's offer to help you up, but his blue eyes only showed kindness in them. 

As you stood to your feet and brushed yourself off, the man instantly began picking up your scattered belongings. 

“That’s okay, I can pick them up.”

“Nonsense.” He smiled at you, holding out your basket with all of your things neatly packed inside. “A lady shouldn’t have to pick up things off the ground.”

You ignored his chivalry. “Is there anything I can do to repay you for helping me out with those thugs? I have money-“

“I will not take money from a lady,” the blonde said, a smirk on his face. “But I would like a date.”

Oh he was bold. Very bold. You weren’t sure how you felt about it, but he had piqued your interest. 

“Very well,” you smiled, trying to ignore the blush rushing to your cheeks. “Take me on the best date you possibly can, er-“

“Sanji,” he said quickly. “My name is Sanji.”

You introduced yourself as well, and then he led you off away from the marketplace and toward the coast. 

You were a bit delusional, letting a strange man take you on a date. Perhaps you had hit your head when you were pushed down. It was about the only explanation for doing this. You were normally so cautious, especially when it came to pirate ports on the Grand Line.

“What are you thinking about, my dear?” His question jerked you from your thoughts. 

“Honestly?” You chuckled. “I’m thinking how insane it is that I’m going off alone with some stranger. You could kill me and nobody would even know I was gone.”

“Sure that’s not true,” Sanji said, scowling. “You have to have someone who cares about you.”

You shrugged. “My crew is all I’ve got.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a pirate?”

You gave him a teasing smirk. “Does that scare you?”

“Not at all,” he hummed. “It must be quite the life.”

“It’s a good life. Better than I had before.” You instantly regretted your words. You shouldn’t have given him a reason to pry. 

But he didn’t ask any further questions, thankfully. The two of you arrived at the coast just in time to see the sun begin to sink behind the waves. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time to make your date perfect. I’m afraid we’ll have to settle for a sunset on the beach.” Sanji sounded disappointed, but you appreciated something simple. 

“You shouldn’t try too hard on the first date anyway. You can’t show all your cards at once,” you said in a joking tone. It’s not like you’d get another date with him. You’d be gone by sunrise. 

“What is your dream date?” Sanji asked. “For next time.”

You laughed at his comment, but you thought long and hard about your answer. You couldn’t be this vulnerable with your crew. It was nice to have someone who wanted to hear your opinion on things. 

“This is pretty close,” you admitted. “A sunset on the beach. I would just have to add a bottle of wine.”

Sanji raised a curly eyebrow at you. “That can’t be all.”

You sighed. It wasn’t. 

“Flowers,” you said. “I’d like a guy to bring me flowers. Oh! And have somebody cook for me for once. And…” you bit your lip, embarrassed to say the next part. But Sanji’s encouraging gaze pushed you on. 

“I really want to go dancing.  Even if it’s just a dance with street music. It’s silly, I know-”

“It’s not silly, mon cherie.”  His eyes were aglow listening to you speak, and you felt like for the first time in your life, you had finally been heard. 

You smiled back at him and returned your gaze to the sunset, silently watching it sink beneath the sea. 

“Are you a cook?” Sanji finally asked. “You said earlier you wanted someone to cook for you.”

Your face scrunched at his question. “I’m not very good, but my crew mates don’t complain too much.”

“I’m sure you’re amazing,” Sanji said. “I’ll cook for you every day, if you want.”

You wanted to stay with him. Even if it was impossible. You wanted to ask him to join your crew, but your captain was strict on who he let in. You couldn’t even extend the offer to this amazing man in front of you. You’d have to break his heart instead. 

“I can’t stay here, Sanji,” you finally whispered the words, breaking your heart. “I’ll be gone by morning.”

Sanji grabbed your hand and held them tightly. He didn’t look sad though. He looked hopeful. 

“Our paths will cross again,” he promised. 

“I hope the fates allow that to happen.”

And with a quick kiss on the cheek, you left him on the beach, hoping that somehow, he was right. 

--

You missed him desperately. You thought about him constantly. Every time you landed on an island, a piece of you searched for his blonde hair and blue eyes. You knew you wouldn’t find him, but you still had to search. 

“Are you okay?” your captain, Berk, finally asked you. “You’ve been different recently.”

“I’m fine,” you said. “I just made a connection with one of the locals on an island recently. I kind of miss him, that’s all.”

Berk raised his eyebrow at you at the mention of you missing another person who wasn’t on the crew, and you could see his body tense. 

“Come on girl.” He gave a nervous laugh. “You know we’re the only family you’ve got.”

You gave a sad smile and turned back to the meal you were preparing. “I know, Berk. I know.”

[maxdemianfangirl]

Fic writer self recs

As tagged by @misskriemhilds (thank you!)

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

Seven Sermons of Lord Abraxas : (Limbus Company, Emil Sinclair/Demian, 7.8k)

This is my most recent fic and easily the one I've gotten the most positive feedback on. Of course, I am very proud of it just by it existing too. This little thing came about when I sat down in my us history class one day and started binging Esoterica (a very good channel btw), which got me back into Carl Jung's esoteric ideas, which everyone knows has ties to Demian, and sure enough, this came to be. So if you want some occultism, DemiSin yaoi, a constant stream of Ryoshu in the DemiSin, or occultism with DemiSin and Ryoshu, I got you.

Garden of Elysium : (Limbus Company, Emil Sinclair/Demian, 1.7k)

If Seven Sermons sounds too heavy, then this oneshot it just pure shipping. It's very sweet, and pure romantic emotion.

Moonstruck Chivalry, Watered-down Coffee : (Cookie Run Kingdom, Madeleine/Espresso and Sea Fairy/Moonlight, 6.5k)

This fun thing from my Cookie Run days is just fun all around, imo. It involves Sea Fairy wingmanning for Madeleine and Moonlight wingmanning for Espresso, both sides totally unaware of the other's plans or involvement at the same event, at the same time. Every side ends up happy in their relationship, if very confused. It's silly fun that people also really love, so if this is your fandom or you want some m/m and f/f intersection, this would be my rec.

Hell's Share : (Touhou Project, gen, 2.1k)

This is both a work of love for the Touhou 19 cast, featuring every new character introduced in that work (plus Reimu and Yuuma) for more silly fun. It has a good lesson, though: don't invest in time shares. They're scams. You can watch a woman get dragged for promoting one here.

The Body of Art : (Arknights, gen, 3k)

This fic explores gender identity, specifically genderqueerness and transfeminity, through Deepcolor of Arknights. While I am not in either of those groups, writing this did unintentionally help me come to terms with my own gender experiences. It also goes into a bit of the philosophy of art and how we experience it. Overall a deeper fic, but one I believe to be fulfilling to have written (and I hope will be in reading, too).

Thanks again for the tag- I'm pretty bad at finding people to carry this on, so anyone who's up can take this as an invitation!

[anastasia974realqueen]

Okay so I'm currently writing a Super 4 Anastasia AU fic, where Alex is the lost living amnesic prince of the royal family of Médiévalia.

In my story, I decided to give him a job before he was throw out of the orphanage. Making him working for the Black Baron.

So in the crucial part of the story, where he had to decided if he had to search for his long lost family or go back to his job, let said that instead of searching for them he actually go back to his job.

Well......

He and the Black Baron will actually start to get along well, they would often bicker but it will be nothing really serious, they would later, as years goes by, consider themselves as brothers.

Alex will (at some point) get chivalry lessons from Rypan, and will later be knighted by the Black Baron.

Since the Black Baron (+Rypan) are on the side of those who dethroned the royal family, Alex will be on their side too. Making him working unknowingly on the side of those who had made a mass murder of his people and kill his mom.

As for his father and sister, after seeing too many imposters of him, they would believe Alexandre as dead.

In the end, I won't said Alex will be a big bad villain but more of an accidental villain, with a big potential.

But, hey ! That's just the AU of an AU !

Calling All Super 4 Fans!

Based on the lore you’ve given them (if any at all), which hero or supporting character has the MOST valid reasons to have become a villain in your AU instead? (Considering both the amount of reasons and the severity of those reasons.)

Mine is…

Gene.

Not that the rest of my Super 4 aren’t rightfully crashouts already, but my AU Gene’s lore is crazy

I’ll elaborate more on that another time, but I wanna hear you guys’ thoughts rn. You can include your reasons if you want, but I mainly want lore. I already know (most of) the canon. Your pick could even literally be Alien, an OC, or some nameless NPC, and I won’t judge.

LORE SQUAD UNITE, IT’S YAPPIN’ TIME!!!

[call-me-eds]

call-me-eds Masterlist

Fic Recs

STRANGER THINGS

Blurbs (includes recs)

Eddie Munson

The Other Woman

You know she means a lot to Eddie, but that doesn’t mean you’re happy about it.

Jasper Avenue (Part 1)

Eddie broke up with you before you went off to school and is still in Hawkins. You’ve been trying to move on from each other, but you’re alone, drunk, with a cell phone, and have his number memorized.

‘tis the damn season (Jasper Avenue Part 2) Winter break is here and you’re back in Hawkins for a month. It didn’t take long for you to run into the person you’ve been trying to forget for the last five months, your ex-boyfriend Eddie.

New Dress

Eddie hears through the grapevine that you want to go on more dates, and he goes into quick action.

Prom Night

You never thought it would be your fault that you couldn’t go to prom with your boyfriend, but Eddie did his part. It was you that messed up.

Girls Freak Me Out

After graduating, Eddie isn’t as in the loop with the Hawkins population, especially when someone new comes to town.

Chivalry Kills *18+

Eddie is a perfect gentleman to everyone, and it makes you feel invisible to him. 

Lecture *18+

Wayne walks in on something..unbecoming. He has a special relationship with you, but now all of that is out the window.

Bathtime

Fluff, fluff, fluff with our boy Eddie.

Scare

You help Nancy out in an emergency, it brings back a painful memory, Dustin doesn’t bother to read instructions.

Done Deal

You thought you and Eddie were just enjoying each other’s company, but he takes a step that puts your relationship in more of a gray area.

The Boy is Mine (call-me-eds version)

A romantic night in at the trailer

Steve Harrington

A Family Affair *minor smut

You and Steve finally get a moment alone without your brother.

Second Date

After a disastrous first date, you and Steve give it another go.

Answering Machine

You hesitate to open up to Steve, but when it all gets too much, he can’t bear to see you suffer anymore.

Crush

Almost everyone can tell that Max has a crush on Steve. When he cancels a driving lesson to take you on a date, you think that you can take out 2 birds with one stone.

Friendsgiving *18+

You and Steve try to get through a dinner after crossing a line.

Baby *18+

Snapshots of your relationship with Steve through his most used nickname.

Steddie

Fight

Eddie and Wayne get into a fight, and he goes to Steve for comfort.

IT

Not Today (Reddie)

All Eddie wants is to be an emotional backbone for Richie, who is used to running and hiding from his emotions. He’s trying to learn and be emotionally available to Eddie, but it’s hard to change all at once.

Patience (Stenbrough)

Stan needs help in school. He hates not being the smartest one in the room, he hates having to ask for help, and he hates having to ask for help from his boyfriend.  

Know-It-All (Stozier)

Stan knew all there was to know about almost everything. He’s spent almost his entire life trying to pin down just one thing about Richie Tozier, but no one could do that.

Weak (Stenbrough: Fuckboy!Bill)

Fuckboy! Bill has his claws deep in Stan.

Weak Part Two (Stenbrough: Fuckboy!Bill) Stan gets some guts and Bill isn’t sure how to handle it.

Tomorrow (Reddie)

Eddie is leaving for college and Richie can’t quite handle it.

Jewelry (Stozier)

Richie falls in love with piercings and rings while Stan falls in love with him.

Poison (Stanlon)

Getting high has never been so stressful, but then again, everything that Stan did had an edge to it.

Eye On The Ball (Bichie)

Bill tries to cope with his role in his friend group and Richie can’t stand it.

Drive (Reddie)

All Richie has wanted is to have his license and his freedom, and there’s only one thing that might stand in his way.

Yes (Stenbrough)

Stan has had enough of Bill’s heroics and can’t help but put his foot down.

[i-heart-slashers]

𝖒𝖊. Horror Baby

𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙. this is my place for horror slashers and villains. my requests aren't always open but send in any ideas or thoughts you have anyway — I read them all and will try to get around to them when my requests open.

» This blog may contain adult content and is therefore not intended for individuals under the age of 18. Readers are advised to read all warnings at the beginning of each work.

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 II.

𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙. ↳ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖘 [closed] ↳ 𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖘 [open]

Would you like to be matched up with a Slasher?

𝗦𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗔-𝗭 𝗔𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗯𝗲𝘁. 𝗕𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗛𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘀

𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

𝔈𝔡𝔡𝔦𝔢 𝔐𝔲𝔫𝔰𝔬𝔫

» Lost Little Puppy

Leaving Eddie had never been easy for you but an unexpected answer to your question makes it even harder.

» Nose Boops

Booping your boyfriend’s nose has never been so cute.

» The Birds and The Bees

When Hopper and Joyce try to teach the kids about the birds and the bees but it doesn’t exactly happen they way they expect.

ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔶 ℭ𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔥𝔞𝔪

» Girls Need Love

Jason Carver flirts with the wrong girl, one that manages to teach him a small but important lesson in chivalry.

Series

You’re Mine (Alternate Universe. GHOSTFACE IN HAWKINS) - Ongoing

A peaceful town in Indiana turns into a bloodbath when a deadly threat haunts the town. The resident teenagers are terrorized by a masked killer, which begins to tear at the fabric of an otherwise-peaceful community ending in bloody pieces of innocent lives scattered around the small town of Hawkins. Kimberly Caligari and her friends have to navigate their lives while trying to survive the murderous Ghostface killer who seems intent on killing them all but is the killer someone they already know?…

series masterlist 

imagines. drabbles.

𝗪𝗲𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗱𝗮𝘆

𝔚𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔄𝔡𝔡𝔞𝔪𝔰

» Unexpected Turn Of Events 

You’d been pretty sure of your relationship with your boyfriend Tyler— until the new girl Wednesday Addams comes to Jericho but maybe your heartbreak is temporary when not all is as it seems.

imagines. drabbles.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗼𝘆

𝔅𝔯𝔞𝔥𝔪𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔢𝔩𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔢

» Follow The Rules

Your car breaking down was the worst of your worries until it wasn't.

imagines. drabbles.

𝗛𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗪𝗮𝘅

imagines. drabbles.

𝗦𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺

𝔅𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔏𝔬𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔰

» Imagine Billy Loomis taking care of you when you’re sick

𝔅𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔏𝔬𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔰 & 𝔖𝔱𝔲 𝔐𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯

» Prank Calls

Billy doesn’t appreciate your pranks but Stu is all for it.

» Unknown Caller

Alone on a quiet night, you receive a late-night call from you boyfriends, Billy and Stu, who playfully taunt you using the voice modulator.

imagines. drabbles.

𝗧𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗿

» Imagine being in a relationship with Art » Imagine getting lost on Halloween night and Art finds you » Imagine Art stalking you but he doesn't want to hurt you

imagines. drabbles.

𝗟𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗼𝘆𝘀

𝔏𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔅𝔬𝔶𝔰 𝔵 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

» Human Mate

The boys have a human mate who gets huntered by a vampire hunter (this is going to expanded into a full fic or longer imagine)

» Imagine the boys take you to the boardwalk.

» Imagine an asexual reader rejecting the boys advances.

𝔇𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔡

» Sky Full Of Stars

You and David go out for one of your weekly date days.

» You Smell Like Trouble

You meet David, with his predatory charm on the Santa Carla boardwalk, and a thrilling, tension-filled night ride leaves you craving more of his dark allure.

𝔓𝔞𝔲𝔩

» Down Will Come Baby

Modern!Paul smokes too much and it’s down to you to keep him from freaking out.

» Get Your Girl

They thought it was just another night on the boardwalk until Paul catches a scent that will change his afterlife forever.

» Made For Me (sequel to Get Your Girl)

You reunite with Paul on the boardwalk, where a heated encounter on the beach deepens your undeniable bond.

𝔇𝔴𝔞𝔶𝔫𝔢

» Chance Encounters

A chance encounter cheers you up while on the boardwalk but was it really a chance encounter?

» Dwayne's Mystery Girl

You were just enjoying a night on the boardwalk with your friends when a mysterious stranger with dark eyes and a dangerous pull walked straight into your life—and now, he's not letting go.

» Your Protector

Dwayne is always watching—silent, intense, and undeniably different. When a stranger gets too close, he steps in, a quiet protector in the dark.

𝕸𝖆𝖗k𝖔

» Marko Madness

Marko drives you crazy with his chaos—until one kiss turns the torment into something a lot more dangerous… and addicting.

» She's My Girl

An intoxicating scent of wildflowers and cherries draws Marko to you on the boardwalk, where an encounter reveals you as his mate, leaving him determined to find you again. As you slip away with your friends, unaware of the supernatural bond, Marko vows to track you down.

𝐒𝔱𝔞𝔯

» Storybook Endings

Novels had never been your thing but when you and Star make a comparison between yourselves and characters from a romance book sparks fly. Maybe having a happy ending was easier than it looked in books?

imagines. drabbles.

𝔓𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰

ℌ𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 — Michael Myers, Freddy Kruger, The Lost Boys, Billy & Stu, Art the Clown, Thomas Hewitt.

ℌ𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪 𝔞𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 — Michael Myers, Freddy Kruger, Charles Lee Ray, The Lost Boys, Billy & Stu, Art the Clown, Thomas Hewitt, Jason Voorhees, Ghostface.

[4th-make-quail]

To celebrate the 17th anniversary of ffxii's release, I thought I'd post my entire back catalogue of xii fic! We're going by pairing, so buckle up~

Salamander's Big Ol FFXII Fic Archive!

Ashe/Basch/Vossler

Five Moments of Desire

Summary: There is something Ashe wants

Tags: chivalry kink, explicit

Notes: written for an ff_land lj comm exchange where my and my friend got paired together and decided to collaborate instead! A five times format fic, and my first actual foray into xii fic!

préowthwíl

Summary: Some moments dwindle like fireflies, brief but flaring bright in a memory forever. Ashe's relationship with Vossler and Basch is more complex than she is ever willing to admit.

Tags: drabble, mature

Notes: a series of drabbles written for another ff_land thing! I miss that comm a lot, we had such good times back then

tempus magus

Summary: Time sequestered in dusty towers does nothing for a young princess's learning, right up until she learns how to control time itself.

Tags: general audiences

Notes: totally the reason I have my Ashe as a time mage in my TZA file haha

Ashe/Balthier/Al-Cid

A Rozzarian Tango

Summary: In which there is a masquerade, a dance, two delectable strangers and things go from there.

Tags: mature

Notes: written for my fave old ff exchange, DOINK!, back when it used to run! I really love these three, I ought to write them again sometime!

Balthier/Al-Cid

Enough Self Control for Three Men

Summary: It has been long, now, that Balthier has taken to visiting Al-Cid after each job was complete; yet the heat that danced between them has yet to be satisfied.

Tags: explicit

Notes: this one was for the TZA release countdown event! As if this was so long ago now wtf

Noah/Basch

The Silence Afterwards

Summary: A somewhat fix-it fic for the end of FFXII - what would happen if Noah's wounds weren't fatal?

Tags: incest, explicit

Notes: one of the multiple endgame fix-it fics! I can't help myself, what if my faves didn't die huh? WHAT THEN

Take Me to Bed and Rip Me Apart

Summary: Something about wearing his brother’s old armour brought Basch a measure of peace. There was a level of anonymity inside that helmet, and even a still-lingering level of respect and fear from when Noah was Judge Gabranth, despite the Empire being an entirely different place under Larsa’s rule.

Neither of them had expected Noah to live, after all, but he was as stubbornly tenacious about that as he had been in chasing his revenge for so many years, even going all the way back to when they were youths, sparring together on the grass back in fair Landis.

Tags: sparring, post-game, twincest, sex in armour, fix-it, explicit

Notes: another exchange fic! Don't ask me how I managed so much that particular chocolatebox lol, I was like a woman possessed. Anyway, what's better than this, armoured ronsencest fucking against a mirror!!

Noah/Vayne/Larsa

A Quick Study

Summary: Many years have passed since the war with Dalmasca ended, and Vayne has been recovering slowly in exile. Infrequent visits and heated correspondences have left Larsa wanting more, though, and he is of a mind to bring these lessons directly to his brother.

Tags: incest, double penetration, rimming, disabled character, scar worship, blowjob, post-game, explicit

Notes: yet another exchange fic, and my first time writing this ship but the prompts were so good!! This one features a headcanon close to my heart of a Vayne disabled post-game

The Double-Edged Blade of the ex-Emperor

Summary: We take a look at the Lord Vayne's closest relationships and speak with the man himself in this incisive interview. Don't miss it!

Tags: implied sibling incest, post-game, disabled Vayne, magazine spread w/images, in-universe photographs, mature, (non-explicit) underage

Notes: ahh Unconventional Fanworks Exchange, so much fun!! A gift for my good friend, and a really fun exercise in writing formal journalistic style again as well as playing around with a magazine spread which was a learning curve and a half!

Ondore/Reddas

the time will take, the sea will rise

Summary: There are more ways than one to forget, and it just so happens that the Marquis Halim Ondore the Fourth knows one of them very well indeed.

Tags: blowjobs, desk sex, missing scene, explicit

Notes: this one was for the 16th anniversary last year! And also happens to be the first fic in the tag for these two, my fave fucking rarepair I swear to god don't get me started because it makes perfect sense!! I definitely want to write more of these two sometime soon :3

Ghis/Bergan

blood in the water

Summary: “If I let you have this victory, would you-” he swallowed, eyes flitting down to Ghis’ still-burgeoning erection, then back up to his lips and then finally his eyes, “would you do it again?”

“What, trounce you? Don’t be ridicu-”

“No. Kill me.” Bergan’s face was serious, his eyes alight with lust. He- he actually meant it. “Maybe you could do it while you fuck me. I think we’d both enjoy that.”

Tags: snuff, dead dove do not eat, sparring, sort of necrophilia?, temporary character death, explicit

Notes: my first fic for these two (outside of tens of thousands of words of rp anyway eheh) and obviously the best way to introduce myself to this rarepair tag of one single other fic!! I do plan to write some non dead dove of them sooner rather than later, so uhh please look forward to it? All four of us

Cid/Vayne

the structure of love

Summary: Cidolfus Demen Bunansa, a madman? Surely not, or he would have heard of it. But what was this about puppets and history? There was but one way to find out. He would have to make the acquaintance of the man himself, make no doubt about it.

Tags: UST, pining, some post-game, explicit

Notes: yet another exchange fic, and my most recent xii offering! I'm obsessed with these two, they have so much potential! So much good shite!! Again don't get me started lol

Miscellany and Sundry

Forgotten Capital - a very old poem about the Necrohol of Nabudis! My favourite location in the whole game

Secrets of the Palace - a magazine spread about Vayne's haircare routine! Also made for Unconventional Fanworks Exchange

[callahanisms]

visitation of the bard

pairing: eddie munson x gn! reader warning(s): n/a word count: 5.9k words notes: this fic takes place in a medieval au of stranger things. i felt heavy inspiration hit me so i wrote this. poured my heart and soul into it. i would suggest listening to some bardcore music for the ✨vibes✨ (particularly covers of “master of puppets,” “gimme! gimme! gimme!,” “rasputin,” and “hips don’t lie.”)

ao3 link: visitation of the bard by vanagloriah

The people were bustling about in their homes as the sun was about to emerge through the horizon. There was nothing particularly special about today. At least, not for now. Not that you would know of course, being holed up in the castle. Your father was quite the…protective one, is the best way to put it. He worried about you “mixing” with the common people. Your father managed the people of his land well. They were relatively happy about the services your father provided. He wasn’t harsh and was a rather forgiving man. You just wished he was a bit more lenient with you and he would let you out of these suffocating stone walls. If you were to become the ruler of this kingdom, it was only fitting that you at least know your own people personally. Not that you didn’t have your ways of sneaking out. It was actually rather easy. But you rarely went out, mostly because you didn’t want to break your father’s heart by sneaking out. You got caught once and the emotional distress you put that man through was enough to dissuade you from sneaking out. Your father wasn’t a bad man. He was just very concerned for your safety. Maybe too concerned considering you weren’t allowed to leave.

“Good morning my liege.” A voice chimes, stirring you from your sleep along with the glimmering rays of the sun.

Your eyes fluttered open, gazing upon the face of the person who awoke you. “Good morning Harper.” You yawn, sitting up from your bed. “How was last night?”

“Last night was…magical.” They sigh dreamily. “Sir Kent is truly a knight of chivalry!”

“I’m happy he came to you!” Not like you had involvement when you overheard the precious Sir Kent talk about how they found Harper ethereal and yet was too nervous to approach them. You just gave him a little nudge a few days ago. “Did anything else happen?”

“Oh. Nothing much.” Harper hid their face behind their hands.

“Are you embarrassed?” You lean forward with an inquisitive expression.

“No my liege!” Harper exclaims. “We must get dressed. You have breakfast and then your morning lessons! After that there is lunch with Lady Nancy of House Wheeler and your afternoon lessons—”

“And then dinner with my father and free time.” You finish. “I know the routine for today.”

“Well then, shall I help dress you for the day?”

“Of course.”

 ~~~

 Morning lessons were always a little more exhausting than the afternoon lessons. Or maybe that was just because you enjoyed being outside in the fresh air, taking in the aroma of the trees around you. Perhaps it would be easier for you to study if your lessons were outdoors. Your tutor, however, Robin, would prefer to not sit on the morning dew. She was very particular about these sorts of things. “I would prefer to keep my garments free of moisture (Y/N)” is what she usually said in response to your question.

You could only sigh as you closed your books, done with your lesson. “Is there any way for you to let me go outside?”

“Only if I have your father’s permission.” She shook her head. “Besides, you are meeting with Lady Nancy, yes?”

“Of course.” You raised an eyebrow before leaning forward. “Why? Is there something fascinating about Lady Nancy to you?”

“Umm! No! No!” You watched the blood flow upwards to her cheeks. “Absolutely not! Don’t even think about it (Y/N)!”

“Hmph. Okay.” You pout and cross your arms. “What about…anything going on in town?”

“Town?” Robin thinks. “Well there are rumors.”

“Rumors?”

“Rumors. About an infamous bard visiting.” She says. “They say very unsavory things, my liege.”

“Like what?”

“That his music is…temptation in auditory form. That he channels the powers of a dragon and Satan himself to entrance the men and ladies and nobles of all kinds.” Robin looks at you. “But it’s just a rumor. Most of these rumors are created by frightened husbands afraid a young bard will steal away their spouses.”

“Bards are quite…” You bit your lip seductively.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Behave yourself!”

 ~~~

 You were humming yourself a tune as you walked down the hallway, a skip in your step. An infamous bard coming to visit your kingdom? Rarely did anything happen here. It was a little bit exciting in your mind that this person was coming. Maybe you could sneak out and see if you could find them, attend one of their performances. You passed a group of ladies, whispering among themselves. You had to stop upon hearing them mention that they were going into town. “I wonder where this bard will be.” One of them whispers.

“Do you really believe the rumors are true?” You recognize the lady as a girl named Chrissy. Apparently she was being courted by Sir Jason Carver. It was an…interesting match. You personally believed they weren’t the best match for each other but who were you to say anything.

“The rumors about this bard being an agent of Satan?”

“Or heaven forbid! A dragon!”

“I doubt it.” You speak, turning around. All of them gasp, closing their mouths tight. “They’re all just rumors after all. I mean, how can one person possibly wield the power of a dragon through their song?” Their shoulders fall and sigh in relief. “It would be best to check for yourself. But maybe the bard isn’t being powered by a dragon. Maybe their song is being powered by a Siren instead.” The gasp from shock.

“No!” They exclaimed.

“Yes!” You giggle. “Best not believe the myths ladies~” You wink before turning around and continuing to walk. You could hear them swoon over you as you left.

 ~~~

 “(Y/N), you can’t be serious.”

“I am Nancy! I really am!”

The brunette sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “(Y/N), I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say. A stranger coming into your kingdom? Sure. That’s every kingdom. But you have to be wary of people that these rumors are based on. Rumors have a basis in the truth. If this bard,” She waves her fork around. “Has such rumors following them, I’m sure they must be some sort of trouble. You better hope they don’t stir anything.”

You scowled. “Don’t you think you’re being a little too…judgemental?”

“Maybe. But being judgemental has allowed me to be kept safe. Besides, what if this bard only plays in the more…unsavory parts of town?”

“Every kingdom has their unsavory parts, Nancy. And they’re the safest areas to be.”

“Listen, if you want to go, you can go. I’m not going to stop you obviously. But there’s lots of potential danger. And you have to think before you just waltz right in.” She frowns. “Remember what happened last time? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You sigh. “It happened one time.”

“Yeah and you fainted and a group of smugglers were going to kidnap you for ransom! You’re lucky Mike and Robin had followed you!” Nancy sighs. “It could be a trap. Just be careful, okay? For my sake, for your friends’ sake. For your father’s sake.”

 ~~~

 A small sigh leaves your lips as you gaze upon the grass and the forest that bordered the town near your castle. Today was a nice day with the sun shining brightly. The wind gently caressed your face, carrying the scent of the grass with it. “Something on your mind, my liege?”

“Hmmm…Maybe Sir Kline.” You turned your head to face the much older man. Larry Kline, a respected knight who your father was raised alongside. He had become your teacher with the art of combat and horse riding. “A royal should always know how to defend themselves” is what he always repeated to you.

“What is it then my liege?”

“Well, I’m thinking about visiting town after dinner today, once night has fallen.” He nods along. “And there’s this bard coming. They’re pretty famous it seems but the reputation that follows them is…damning. Nancy says it’s a bad idea. But I rarely get out and…I want to go see a bard’s performance for myself. There’s something so stale about the way we have bards over. Too polished. The air of sincerity feels stale.”

“Well, reputations aren’t always an indicator of character, my liege. Sometimes, titles and rumors are passed down. Maybe this bard inherited this title and the rumors that follow them. I would know a thing or two about titles and reputations.”

“Really now?”

“Yes. I’m not sure your father has told you this but for a while, I was known as the Dread Knight Roberts.” He smiles as he thinks about the memories fondly. “I inherited the title from a knight and I will pass that title onto my squire.”

You had to sit on the revelation for a second. “That was…you?”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Wow. You are…very different from…the reputation that precedes you.”

“Exactly my liege. What I’m trying to say is, don’t believe everything you hear. Just don’t drink too much and bring a weapon with you. I trust that I’ve trained you well.” He looks up. “Shall we head back now, my liege? Your father will worry his little head off if we’re gone for too long. It’s not every day he lets me take you beyond the walls of the palace.”

 ~~~

 “Good night my liege.”

“Good night Harper.” You close the door behind you. You made sure to listen for their footsteps to disappear before running around your room. The sun was beginning to set and the guards would be having their evening meals. You threw off your night clothes and made sure to arrange your pillows underneath the blanket so it looked like you were under the covers. It worked before. Hopefully it will work again. The clothes you put on were rather plain and neutral colors and everything was covered with a black hooded cloak. You found a dagger lying about inside your chest. It was sharp, shiny, and would be suitable for protection. Your hands worked quickly to tie it to your belt. You wouldn’t stand out, hopefully.

You loved the adrenaline rush that came with sneaking out of the palace. It felt freeing to escape from the palace. You took your trusty steed Holland with you, riding into town. Your heart pounded when a palace guard stopped you at the gate but you managed to alter your voice enough to sound different, looking down and keeping your face hidden with your hood. “I’m just getting a few things for my liege.” The guard shrugged and let you pass. You made sure to take a deep breath in as the air contacted your skin once more. The sky tonight was clear, allowing the colors of dusk to be seen. There was something so ethereal about the colors of the sky as dusk settled. You visited tavern after tavern, trying to see if the bard you were looking for had arrived. It seemed that they weren’t at any taverns hosting him. You were content to eat at one though.

It took a while and you arrived at the last tavern which was lively. You could hear the noise of people inside the building. It looked a bit more worn down than the others and it was near the start of the forest. You tied Holland’s reins at a small stable before leaving and entering the building. The atmosphere was warm, welcoming. There was tons of laughter that filled the air and the sound of music hummed in the background. It was soothing. You approached the woman at the counter and pulled out a few silver coins. “One ale.”

“Coming right up dear.” She smiles. She’s gone for a brief minute, coming back with a cup. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” You take the cup and walk around for a bit. You are keen to avoid unnecessary contact and keep speech brief with people. Some people might recognize you due to your way of speaking. It was best to blend in. You ask a few people around about the mysterious bard, but nothing appears to turn up.

After some time asking, you decide to sit. It seems your quest for the bard has hit a dead end. Perhaps it was best to drink your cup of ale before leaving. Though it certainly would seem strange, a stranger walking in and having one cup of ale before leaving. You sighed, taking a sip of the drink before wincing. It’s not that you had a taste for the finer things. You weren’t the biggest fan of these drinks in general. Ale, beer, wine. They all tasted somewhat the same to you. Your moment of silence was interrupted by a young boy appearing in front of you. He seemed…curious and there was a glint of excitement in his eyes. And maybe even mischief? “Hello.” You say.

“Hello.” He smiles. “You are very attractive.” You blinked before bursting out in laughter. He looks at you quizzically. “What is so funny?”

“Oh. You flatter me. Somewhat.” You gently pat his head. “I am far too old for you, young man.”

“Oh I’m not looking for someone for me. I already have a lady.” You raised an eyebrow. “I am mostly looking for someone suitable for him—”

“Okay that’s enough Dustin.” A taller man with thick locks of brown hair interrupted the young boy, covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m so sorry for the trouble. He doesn’t mean anything by it—”

The young boy, Dustin, pulled the man’s hand off from his face. “Yes I do. See, Steve has been having a hard time with the people and he hasn’t had any luck in finding a suitable person to court. He saw you and told me he was interested—”

“I had too much ale.” The man, Steve, pushes the child aside. You hear a “Hey!” come from him and laugh to yourself. “Sir Harrington.” He gently takes your hand before pressing his lips to your knuckles. “At your service.”

“Sir Steve Harrington?” You ask.

“Yes. And that young boy,” He sighs, exasperated as he says young boy. “Is my squire, Dustin Henderson.”

“Listen, it’s not my fault you cannot attract any gentlemen, maiden, or people in general—”

“He doesn’t mean that.” Steve purses his lips. “We…travel. So unfortunately, I cannot court any gentlemen, maidens, or people.”

“I see.” You nod before watching the two of them descent into bickering. Even though they were bickering, it sounded more friendly. It was as if they bickered all the time. Witty banter was always a plus with someone. A thought suddenly entered your mind. You haven’t asked the two people about the bard yet. Maybe they had an answer, even if it seemed highly unlikely. “Um, I’m sorry to interrupt.” The two of them stop their bickering almost immediately. “I’m wondering if you know about a certain bard?”

“Bard? Like who?” Steve asks.

“We have encountered many a bard.” Dustin explains.

“Well maybe not this bard? There are rumors that he,” You bring your voice to a whisper. “Wields the power of a dragon in his music and even Satan himself.”

Steve and Dustin blink before looking at each other. Dustin starts to giggle to himself, trying to hold laughter. You furrow your brows. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s nothing.” Steve waves his hand as if he’s swatting a fly. Your shoulders fall. It must just be pure rumor. Or even you missed said bard and they have made their way to the next town. “We know a person exactly like that.” You sit up, attentive. Steve cocks his head, gesturing to someone. Your gaze follows the direction his head moved towards.

He was pointing to a rather large group of people beside the fire, sitting at a table. And yet, your eyes were drawn to the man in the middle of it all. He had dark brown hair that reached his shoulders and his hair was wavy. He wore a black cloak over his clothes and right next to his body was a lute. His laugh was the loudest one from the group and his smile was wide. When he opened his eyes, you noticed they were brown. They looked soft, gentle. Those could not be the eyes of a bard who played a dragon’s song. It seemed Sir Kline was right. “That’s them?” You ask.

“Yes.” They both say.

“We travel with him!” Dustin beams.

“I see.” You look over again. Someone has left the table, probably to get another drink. “Thank you for your time, good sirs.” You stand and take your drink with you, sliding into the free seat. It seems no one has noticed your presence. Either that or they simply don’t care. What was there to care about anyways? It was nighttime. Everyone seemed merry. Amidst the laughter, the bard’s laughter falls. He looks at you and the two of you make eye contact. Now that you’re closer, you notice that he looks a little…familiar. As if you recognize him. But from where is the question. His smile widens as he notices your presence.

“Good fellows, it looks like we have a newcomer.” He announces. Everyone turns to look at you. Your body tenses up, nervous. “Welcome! Don’t be shy!” He exclaims, holding his cup up. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

“Cheers!” You say, lifting your own cup before taking a sip of your ale. You were only halfway done with your cup.

The bard leans forward. “Good liege, it is a pleasure to see you.” He gently takes your hand before pressing his lips against your knuckles. You feel your cheeks heat up at the contact. “May I know your name?”

Your voice was caught on your tongue. You couldn’t speak. Has this man bewitched you? “(Y/N)...”

“(Y/N). A very fitting name for an attractive person such as yourself.” He winks. Your face heats up even more.

“Oh my.” You whisper. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

“What brings you here dear (Y/N)?” He asks.

“I…” Your face was so hot and so was your body. Were you nervous? It had to be that! “I was curious about…you.”

“Me? There is no mystery to me!” He exclaims with a grin. “Why? What do they say about me?”

“Well…” You started fiddling with your fingers. It was usually considered improper etiquette to play with your fingers. But you weren’t in the company of nobility, were you? “They say your songs are…bewitching. So bewitching that they must be…backed by the power of a dragon.”

The noise falls quiet upon your voice. Have you said too much?

The bard bursts into laughter. “My, my. How frightening!” He sticks his tongue out. “My music is unnaturally good to the point that people must not believe I can create it on my own! I must have the power of mythical beings besides me!” He stands up suddenly. He looks at you. “I shall prove that my music is not touched by any mythical beast! Only the calloused hands of a human bard!”

He picks up his lute and makes sure to tune it. He cracks his knuckles and takes a deep breath. He appears to be in thought for some time, as if trying to figure out which song may bewitch you to him. “Aha!” He snaps his fingers before looking down at his lute. He begins to play. The sound that hits your ears makes you feel light all of a sudden. Your body acts as if it’s in a trance and you focus solely on his music. He appears to have captivated the whole tavern, who listen to him eagerly and who are just as still as you are. He occasionally sneaks glances at you, making sure you are watching him play. You feel your mind be at ease as you listen to him play. He speeds up his notes and strumming to create an energy of excitement. He slows down to let a soft melody enter the fold. It appears to continue going onwards, as if it’s never ending. But all good things must come to an end.

With a final strum, the bard ends his performance. Everyone in the tavern shouts and cheers. Your body feels like it’s waking up, as if you had been dunked in cold water. You still stare at him, captivated. His music was backed by the power of a dragon and maybe even Satan himself? You could not believe it. There was no possible way. A human did that? The bard was otherworldly himself! His talent was beyond what you can comprehend! And clearly beyond the comprehension of others. You finally release the breath you had been holding in. He smiles at you and bows, making sure to look deep into your eyes. You blink for a second and then he’s gone. As if he disappeared. Was he part of your imagination? No. He couldn’t be. This was not a dream or a figment. You felt his presence, his physical body. He had kissed your knuckles after all. You picked up your hand and gently rubbed the place where he had kissed. The memory made your heart skip a beat. Alas, the search was over. You had found what you were looking for.

You down the last of your ale and stand up, taking your leave. You send a nod of acknowledgement to the knight and his squire before exiting the tavern. It was quite late. And about time you head back home, to the palace—

“Ah!” You exclaimed.

Leaning against the stable was the bard himself. He looked at you as Holland ate out of his hand. ��No worries, my liege. I just fed your horse an apple.” He smiles. Holland is calm beside him.

“How did you—?”

“Your cloak.” He points. “A fine fabric indeed with such detailed embroidery. The embroidery matches the quality on this steed’s saddle. Which must mean you’re from the palace.”

He deduced all of that from looking at you? Maybe you weren’t as low key as you thought. Your pulse quickened when reality hit you. If he could deduce such things, was it possible it was a trap? A trap to lure you out here? That was absurd! How could they know such a rumor would lure you out? He wouldn’t do such a thing. He was gentle and his eyes were kind. But that was part of their plan wasn’t it? It was a deception! Nancy was right!

The bard notices the change in atmosphere and in your facial expression. He puts his hands up. “My liege, I am harmless.” He smiles. “I have…experience.”

“In what way?” You question.

“That is not for me to tell. But, if you want a hint, I had a relative or two who used to tailor clothing for nobility and even royalty.”

Your shoulders relax slightly. But you’re still on edge. “Thank you, good sir.” You adjust your cloak. “I must be—”

He holds his hand out. You look at him quizzically. He appears to read your mind. “Why would I do this?” He laughs. “I just want to bring you somewhere. If you will let me?”

You glanced up at the sky. The moon was still up, its light shining brightly. Out here, you could see the bard more clearly. He was rather tall actually and he wore black boots. They were worn down, no doubt due to traveling. Something compelled you to take his hand and to go with him. Nancy would give you a piece of her mind if she knew what you were thinking right now. But Nancy wasn’t here. “You may.” You say after a moment of silence. You don’t take his hand though. “I will take my horse—”

“You will not need your horse.”

You raised an eyebrow at the man. “I highly doubt that.”

“The place where I want to take you is not far.” He gestures towards the woods. “It is a lake and it is beautiful under moonlight.”

“The woods and a lake?” You scoff. “A perfect place to hide a body, kidnap someone.” You cross your arms.

“Well…” He thinks for a moment before bowing to you. “I swear on my lute that I intend no harm, my liege.” He pats the instrument. “It is my most prized possession.”

You purse your lips for a bit, taking the promise into consideration. The night was still young. You still had time before you had to return to the palace. “Yes then. I will.”

“Alright.” His grin widens. “Follow me my liege.”

 ~~~

 It takes quite a bit of time to get to the destination he set out to bring you to. You’re careful not to get your cloak too dirty or else there will be questions as to why there was so much dirt on it. You were still not supposed to be out after all. The bard makes plenty of conversation with you as you walk. He asks lots of questions but avoids a majority of the questions you ask him. He answers more miscellaneous things, such as what age he started playing the lute and what made him want to travel with Sir Harrington and his squire. “They’re an interesting duo.” He shrugs as he hops over a branch.

Eventually, the two of you arrive at the lake. It is quite beautiful. Something about it feels…familiar. And yet, you don’t recall any memory of you being here in the past few years or even your life. Your body was still tense however as the water looked dark and murky. The forest was quiet save for the gentle humming of bugs and the occasional hoot of an owl. You shivered at the thought. Owls were bad omens. It could not be a good sign. Sensing your nervousness, the bard removes his cloak and sets it down on the grass being sitting. He pats the spot next to you. “Come, sit. Best not to get your cloak dirty.”

You take his invitation and sit down, body still tense. “You’re not supposed to be out, are you?” He questions.

“How—?” You were at a loss for words.

“You were busy trying not to get your cloak dirty while we were walking here. It’s not a far walk actually. It took longer than usual since I had to wait for you.” He gives you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I was raised in an environment similar to that, I guess. If that makes sense.”

You laugh, feeling the tension leave your muscles a bit. “It makes sense.” You look at the lake. Despite its dark, murky water, it’s still beautiful in its own way. The way the moonlight streamed in and reflected off of the still water gave you a sense of peace. “So, why bring me here?”

“Can’t a bard bring a person they find attractive to a spot they adore?” He asks.

“A spot you adore? Have you been here before?”

“Maybe…once. Or twice. Or thrice.”

You shake your head. “Keep your mysteries bard. I don’t want to discover them.”

“Oh but you do. You want to discover all!” He teases.

It gets a laugh out of you. “Well, I am curious about a lot of things.”

“Okay then. Ask me a question and I’ll answer it. Any question.”

“Yet you did not answer most of my questions on our way here.”

You see his cheeks become slightly pink, probably out of embarrassment. “You caught me. But I will answer your question if I deem it worthy.”

“Alright.” You think for a second. “Are you literate?”

He opens his mouth to answer but hesitates. “I…am.”

“Why the hesitation?” You laugh.

“Because I like to keep my skill set to myself, my liege.”

“Where did you learn?”

“That is for me to know and for you to never know.”

“Oh come on!” You whine. “Pretty please?”

He smiles. “Well…I learned from an old relative of mine. I haven’t seen him in ages though.”

“Okay.” You ponder for a second. “Why the lute?”

“My uncle played it. I am very close to him.” He answers but you hear a hint of sadness in his tone. Perhaps you touched a nerve.

“Okay. How about…you play a song for me? Any song. It can even be the song from the tavern! Which was amazing, by the way. I can see why people say your music is backed by the power of a dragon or Satan.”

“When people say that, they mean it in a…derogatory way.” He says. “It’s not a classic chivalric ballad. But the most important part is that I enjoy it.”

His hands pick up his lute. You notice now that the wood is rather dark. “And other people, clearly.”

“That is also true. It’s nice.” He thinks for a second before beginning to pluck the strings.

The song this time is gentle. It makes you feel at ease. Your muscles loosen and you lay down, closing your eyes so you can absorb the song to its fullest. You imagine yourself in a field with flowers on a bright sunny day. The sight in your mind brings you to ease. His music serves as background noise for the calm state of mind you are in. You don’t know when you started to doze off, but you did. He continued to play song after song, all of which kept you at ease and eventually lulled you into a gentle slumber.

You didn’t notice the look of longing in his eyes as he gazed upon your face, touched by the light of the moon.

 ~~~

 You gently stirred awake, your eyes fluttering open. The bard was still next to you, playing the lute. He hummed the tune to himself gently, his eyes closed. He was playing with his eyes closed? An impressive man indeed. You yawned, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. As your vision came to, you realized that it was much later in the night than when you dozed off. And it was a lot later than you planned. It would be dawn soon and you were not back in your bed!

“Oh dear me!” You exclaim, standing up.

The bard stops playing and he looks at you. “Is everything alright?”

“I…I have to get back! I have to get back to the pal—” You stop yourself. “Home. I have to get back home!”

“No worries, my liege.” He smiles as he stands, picking up his cloak and wrapping it around his body. He clips it in place. “Where do you live? I can travel with you. It is dangerous to travel alone at night—”

“No!” You exclaim. His facial expression remains neutral. “I…It’s just…It would look…” You couldn’t muster the words.

The bard smiles. “No worries. I understand what you mean. After all, most people assume two people together must be romantically involved.”

“Yes.” You nod. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You were sleeping and you looked tired, like you needed it. Besides, it would be rude of me to place my hands on you or wake you up without your consent.”

The statement made your chest feel warm. He was a gentle man, the bard. He was so sweet. He reminded you of someone. But you couldn’t place who. “Come now. Let’s go.” He’s about to start walking when you stop him with a gentle grip on his forearm.

“Wait…” You purse your lips, looking at him in his eyes. Your heart started pounding against your chest. “May I?”

He seems to know what you mean. “You may, my liege.”

You lean forward a bit and he meets you in the middle. His lips are soft and he places his hand on your upper arm gently, as if to keep you steady. The kiss was good enough to make you feel a bit wobbly. There’s a hint of passion behind the gentle pressure he applies but it’s gone when he pulls away. His cheeks are pink when you pull away. “I…I bet you have kissed plenty of other people.” It suddenly came out of your lips.

The bard laughs. “You would be surprised to know I haven’t really kissed many people, actually.” He offers his arm. “Come, my liege. Let’s go.”

 ~~~

 You’re still careful not to get too much dirt on your cloak. You make it back to the cavern and the moon is still up. There is no hint of sun yet. You still had time. The two of you approach the stable and untie your respective horses. “Ah. There you are! Where have you been?” A familiar voice exclaims. You turn your head to see Dustin, who is mounted on a horse. Next to him is Steve, also mounted.

“Sorry. I was entertaining a special someone.” He winks.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Come on! Let’s go. You said it yourself. We can’t stay long in this kingdom.”

“I know, I know.” The bard mounts his horse.

You reach out and gently grip his hand. “Will I ever see you again?”

The bard looks surprised. He feigns a thoughtful expression before smiling. “Of course, my liege. I will come back, only for you.”

You let out a breath of relief before panic fills your body. A name! You forgot to ask his name! How forgetful of you! “Wait before you leave! May I know your name?” Perhaps this bard has swept you off of your feet, something…no one really has done to you.

He smiles again. “The name is Eddie, my liege. And you are (Y/N).”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Yes. Yes it is.” You let go of his hand. Your hand suddenly feels empty and cold without the warmth of his. “Farewell Eddie. I hope to see you soon.”

Eddie opens his mouth to say something but he’s interrupted by Steve. “Eddie! Let’s go!”

“Alright, alright.” Eddie rolls his eyes. He kicks his horse gently and it starts walking. You watched as the three of them entered the forest. Before they disappear, you see that Eddie turns his head to look at you one last time.

 ~~~

 The sun peeks through the canopy of leaves. Dawn has passed and the early morning has greeted them. Steve holds onto the reins of Dustin’s horse as Dustin sleeps. He looks at Eddie, who has been silent since they departed from you. Usually, the bard would be talking nonstop and annoying him. But that didn’t seem to be the case. “Eddie?” He asks. “Are you alright?”

Eddie snaps out of his trance. He had been lost in thought. “Yes. I’m alright Harrington.” Steve scoffs.

“That’s Sir Harrington to you.”

“Sure, sure.” Eddie rolls his eyes. He falls silent again for a bit before answering. “Do you think they recognized me?”

“Who?”

“(Y/N). The person I was with.”

“Oh. Well…it didn’t seem like they did.” Steve gives Eddie a sad and knowing look.

Eddie sighs. “Do you think they will one day?”

“I have faith. And you should too.” Steve smiles. “I mean, the last time you saw each other was…when?”

“Like…ten years?”

“Exactly! You look a lot different! And you’re an entirely different person with an entirely different lifestyle!”

“I wouldn’t say an entirely different person…” Eddie rolls his eyes before sighing. “(Y/N) has only grown more attractive. And they’re still somewhat the same. Still adventurous, still a bit cautious.”

“I’m guessing you hope to woo the liege?”

“Of course.” Eddie sighs dreamily. “I would want to woo no one else but my childhood sweetheart.”

[ikehoe]

Selfish [Leon Dompteur x Reader][Fluff]

Description: Leon Dompteur is a hero, the royal Prince renowned for his charisma, chivalry, and his talents as a soldier. However, as his lover, you find yourself spending every moment wishing for him to return from battle, worried out of your mind. When Leon finally returns, he promises you an uninterrupted day together that ends with something you never thought would happen…

A/N: I had some difficulties writing Leon because he’s just so darn princely. This fic ended up super flowery from my usual fics (mainly because there’s no removal of clothing involved, lol), so I hope you enjoy it, @devildomwritersposts!

WC: 2.3k

The bright rays of the sun shone down on you, blanketing you in a warmth reminiscent to that of a comforting hug. An array of light floral scents drifting over from the garden added to the romance of that day. You were seated on the ornate, white bench overlooking the shimmering pond as you waited for your lover. Your silky strands of hair were separated by a satin ribbon the colour of spun gold, recommended to you by the ever-fashionable Prince Yves Kloss. The 5th Prince had also picked out a beautiful beige cotton blouse for you with billowy sleeves that ended in a ribbon cuff. In addition, you donned a skirt with multiple layers the same colour as the satin strand in your hair on your bottom half. Although these garments were far fancier than your typical wear, Yves had insisted on dressing you up for your lover’s return from the borders of Rhodolite.

A shout from a distance away brought you back from your daydreams. As the figure came closer, your mouth curved into a soft smile in recognition of your lover. His beautiful, shoulder-length dark hair, golden eyes, and chiseled figure were enough to make your heart race no matter how many times you’d seen him. With each decisive step he took, the midnight black cape he donned rustled in the wind, providing a sharp contrast against the gold hardware on his military uniform. A familiar fluttering feeling began in the pit of your stomach as you were overtaken by the charismatic Prince’s appearance.

“Leon, you’re back!” You exclaimed, jumping to your feet. It was a picturesque moment, the reunion of the two fated lovers of the Palace of Rhodolite. But, of course, a moment as sweet as this had to be surrounded by the splendor that only the nobles of the Rhodolite palace could enjoy. You reached your arms out and were immediately lifted up into his arms. The two of you were pressed nose to nose with matching gazes of pure adoration in your features.

“I missed you today,” Leon started, breaking the silence between the two of you. “I’m sorry that I’ve been so busy lately. Prince Chevalier has us working our men extra hard in preparation for some impending war.” The way that Leon emphasized the last two words with a scoff was telling of his thoughts on his half-brother’s plans.

“I missed you too, Leon. Let’s just try to enjoy our day, okay? It’s rare that I get to see you, and even rarer that we get a full afternoon to ourselves!” You said, delicately stroking his cheek with the side of your thumb, willing your partner to dismiss any negative feelings he’d conjured up.

“You’re right,” Leon responded, pressing a loving kiss against your lips. For a soldier as experienced as him, you’d think that his lips would be as rough as the hardened callouses on his hands. However, your assumptions were proved to be very wrong the first time he kissed you, plush lips connecting with yours in a moment you would never forget.

This outing of yours had been planned weeks in advance. At that time, your handsome lover had noticed the quick downward tick of your mouth when he’d mentioned needing to go to the borders of Rhodolite, despite your best efforts at concealing your disappointment.

“How about this? I promise that when I get back, I’ll make sure we have an entire day to ourselves - no paperwork, no lessons, no annoying brothers of mine to get in the way and try to steal you away from me. Just you and me.”

“You don’t need to promise me anything, Leon. I’m just happy that I get to spend some time with you right now...”

“Well, I’m not satisfied with just that. I’m selfish. I want to be with you all the time. I want to hold you all the time. Will you indulge me, my sweet girl?”

“Of course…”

There was no one in this world that could resist the Fourth Prince, especially when he turned up the charm. That was how he ended up breaking down your resolve to uphold Clause 99 of the contract. He’d swept you away in his strong arms, and since that moment, your heart was weak to everything that Leon Dompteur gave you.

“Where has your mind gone, my love?” Leon asked, mischievously running the tip of his gloved finger down your nose. You shook your head up at him in protest and rolled your eyes, huffing out a sigh in feigned amusement.

“I’m just waiting to see where you’re planning on taking me for this special secret date you have planned,” you replied, slipping your arm into the crook of his elbow as he began to lead you towards a carriage. Leon wasn’t typically one for such extravagant gestures, such as the pure-white carriage with two white stallions in front of it. However, special occasions called for celebration. What he had planned was something he hoped would absolve him of his guilt and any loneliness you felt during his absence.

“The carriage awaits you, my love.”

The duration of your carriage ride was spent receiving sweet, gentle kisses on the cheek from Leon. The both of you knew that you weren’t a fan of hearing news about the war or frontlines of battles, but you were intent on learning everything you could as the Belle of Rhodolite. After much pressing, convincing, and puppy-dog eyes shot in Leon’s direction, he finally relented, making you promise to stop him if hearing about the spoils of war began to affect you too much. With a deep breath, he began to tell you a heavily censored version of what his faction had dealt with over the past few weeks – making sure to skip over any gory or gruesome details that might put a damper on your mood. The tales he recounted brought a pang of sadness to your chest.

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of Leon’s lips press against your own again. Your mouth gaped open in shock, which only served as an opportunity for the Prince to deepen the kiss with his skilled tongue. You felt heat rising quickly to your cheeks, and at that moment, the luxurious carriage suddenly felt too hot, too small, and too suffocating. You pulled back from the kiss and looked up, seeing a glint in Leon’s eyes and a passion that you knew all too well. If you hadn’t put a stop to this, the Prince may very well have convinced you to continue your passionate kiss until you couldn’t take it anymore. That situation happened more than once, with you asking Leon to turn the carriage around and return to the palace so you could have some time alone.

“What was that?” You asked him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

“I just can’t help myself when you look at me with that face,” Leon shrugged, offering you a sheepish smile in return.

“What face?!”

“The face that you make when I tell you about this kind of stuff. The face you make that says, I wish you didn’t have to go through this. The face that makes me want to stop leading my faction leader and spend all of my days making sure you’re safe in my arms.”

If there was a way to describe how you felt in that moment at Leon’s heartbreaking confession, it would probably be bittersweet. The roles that the two of you held were vastly different, but you knew he tried his best to make you happy. You knew it in the way he would gently knock on your door before night, asking you if he could come in. You knew it in the way his arms would envelop you as you felt yourself succumb to the grasps of slumber. You knew it in the way he would wake you up with kisses on your closed lids and reassure you that your breath still smelled like roses, even in the mornings. However, the fact remained that whenever he was called out into battle, there was always the chance that Leon Dompteur wouldn’t return.

Your eyes began to well up in tears, and you quickly nuzzled your head against Leon’s muscular chest, hiding the sudden emotion. Before he could react, the carriage stopped, the silence only further emphasizing the tension between you two.

With a deep breath, Leon flashed you another smile, this one much less certain than before, and offered you his hand. “Well, let’s not let this dampen our mood. Our secret destination awaits us.”

You reached your hand out, and his large one captured yours in return a moment later, giving you a gentle squeeze as he helped you climb out of the carriage. He rummaged into his pocket and handed the driver a silver coin, giving him a quick nod in appreciation at the carriage driver’s service.

“Come on, we have to walk a little bit to our destination.”

The journey to wherever Leon intended to take you was relatively short. However, with the heels you’d chosen that day, it still proved to be challenging. Pebbles and straggling branches lay on the ground, acting as an obstacle to you every couple of seconds. You were barely able to look up with how much dedication you were putting into not falling flat on your face in front of your beloved. Noticing your discomfort, Leon stifled a chuckle. He lifted you up into a bridal carry, securing your body between both crooks of his arm.

“I didn’t need your help!” You squealed, pressing your face into his chest in embarrassment.

“Right, I know, but I just wanted to carry you in my arms. Will you fault me for wanting to look cool in front of you?”

When you finally had the chance to look at where exactly Leon had taken you, the sight left you absolutely breathless. The Prince had set up a beautiful picnic on top of a hillside overlooking the main town. Not only that, the sun was now setting, and it painted the roofs of the building in hues of burnt orange, sienna, and dusty yellows. It was something out of a storybook, and here you were, taking it all in with the man you loved most in the world. A smile had crept its way onto your face without you noticing. Your gaze moved left to right as if trying to take in everything you could and capture it in your memory.

“Look, there’s the bookstore!”

What you hadn’t realized was that the Prince hadn’t been looking at the sights below the two of you. His eyes had been trained on you the entire time. While you had been taking in the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, he’d been committing the image of your face, awestruck, to his memory.

There weren’t many things that made Prince Leon Dompteur nervous, but his upcoming plans were an exception to that. He reached into the inner pocket of his uniform and fumbled around, his temperature increasing as he looked for the familiar shape of the velvet box, concealing something that would change both of your lives forever. When his fingers finally connected with the box in question, he breathed out a silent sigh of relief and lowered himself down to one knee.

“Leon? Are you looking?” You asked, puzzled that the Prince hadn’t responded to your earlier comment. Your gaze slowly shifted to the right of you, and you realized that the Prince was kneeling before you, an open box in his hand. “Oh! L—Leon, what are you doing?!”

“I know I can’t always make you happy. I know that sometimes you stay up all night, worried about me. I know that you would probably have a better life, marrying someone that could stay by your side all the time. I should let you have that, but every time I think I can stop being selfish, you do something, and it has me falling in love with you all over again. I can’t help it. I’m selfish, and I want you to be mine. I want you to be my wife, and I want to start a family with you. Will you make me the happiest man in Rhodolite and marry me?” You could see a faint glossiness to the Fourth Prince’s eyes, glistening under the hues of the sunset. In the box, the most stunning ring you’d ever seen was wedged in between plush velvet layers.

Hot tears began to stream down your face at the words you never thought you’d hear from your lover. It wasn’t that you didn’t want it. It was that you were too afraid to let yourself imagine that marriage between the two of you as possible. Whatever came next would be wrought with trials, tests of your love, challenges to your dedication to one another, but you knew that you’d be ready to face it all as long as you had him by your side.

“Yes, I will marry you. I can’t imagine my life with anyone other than you. If I’m being honest, you’ve had my heart since the first day we met, when you saved me from that man. I love you, Leon Dompteur.”

And so, with the slip of a ring onto your finger and a gentle kiss pressed against each other’s lips, you promised yourself forever to the Fourth Prince of Rhodolite.

And so the two of you lived happily ever after...

[spookysanta]

Lessons in Chivalry. (MBJ)

Summary: Michael has to train you to let him spoil you. No doors, no checks, no 50/50.

Pairing: Michael B. Jordan x reader

Warnings: romantic hand pops

the first of many ideas on my list!! been working on this all last week - it's been so fun to read everyone's feedback on the upcoming fics i have planned. thank y'all for your support! don't forget to send me asks if you have a request or fic idea.

He’s the gentle kind of sweet that made you roll your eyes, even though your stomach flipped like it was your first date all over again. The first time he did that thing, you didn’t think much of it. You reached for the handle of the restaurant door, and his hand appeared out of nowhere, gently smacking yours away like it had personally offended him. “Hey,” he murmured, one brow raised, lips twitching with amusement. “What I tell you about doors?”

You blinked, surprised, your hand suspended midair. “That I’m capable of opening them?”

Michael let out a soft laugh, stepped around you, and pulled the door open wide. “You are. But that’s not the point.”

“The point is…?”

He leaned down as you passed through, his breath warm against your skin, carrying the faint scent of mint and cedar from the cologne you loved. The heat of his chest hovered just inches from your back, and the rasp of his voice climbed up your spine. Your skin prickled, breath catching before you could stop it, the intimacy of the moment stealing your thoughts for a beat. “That if I’m with you, you don’t lift a finger. Not for doors. Not for checks. Not for anything.”

You scoffed. “Chivalry is alive and dramatic, I see.”

“Damn right,” he said proudly. “Get used to it.”

But you didn’t. Not immediately.

Because about a week later, at a boutique checkout counter, your card was already halfway to the reader before you realized he was watching you like you’d just betrayed everything he stood for. He didn’t even speak, just slid his hand over yours, plucked the card from your fingers like it was something fragile, and handed his own over with infuriating calm.

When the receipt printed, he passed your card back like a teacher returning a test. “You trying to get in trouble?” he asked, voice low and playful, head tilted like he already knew the answer. His fingers lingered on yours just a second longer, eyes scanning your face like he was daring you to try it again. “Because you know what happens when you don’t listen.”

“You weren’t even—”

“Doesn’t matter.” His eyes met yours, soft but firm. “Don’t reach first. Ever.”

It became a little game after that. You’d try to sneak your hand past his, get there first, test the boundaries. And every time, he’d catch you. He was very committed to the bit.

By the time you were walking into a hotel downtown, he caught your wrist mid-air before your fingers could even graze the glass of the hotel’s front door. “What did I say?”

“Michael, I was just—”

He stepped in close, mock-serious now. “What did I say?”

You tried not to smile and failed. “That I don’t open doors or pay for anything when you’re around.”

“And am I around?”

You pouted a little, but nodded.

“Then relax.” He kissed your temple. “Be the beautiful, spoiled woman I insist you are.”

“I’m gonna forget how to function.”

“Nah,” he said as he pushed the door open. “You’re just gonna remember what it feels like to be treated how you deserve.”

So you did. For two days. Maybe three. Then, as always, your instincts kicked in. A door handle. A brunch bill. A quick swipe of your card before you thought he could stop you.

But of course, he always beat you to it.

Before, it was gentle. A soft tap. A warm palm curling around your wrist. A low, “Nah, I got it, babe,” as he handled the moment with ease. He kissed your cheek after, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like he wasn’t actively retraining the way you understood care.

Then came the test. It was a Saturday morning. You were downtown, still wrapped in his hoodie, half-awake but smiling as you reached for the boutique door. He was a few steps behind. Before you could touch the handle, his hand landed on yours. Not hard, just firm. A definitive pop! that made you whip around. “Michael.”

His eyes widened with fake innocence. “What?”

“You popped me.”

“You reached for the door.”

“I thought I had rights.”

“You do,” he replied, stepping ahead of you, holding the door open with a slight bow. “You’ve got the right to be cherished, pampered, and treated like royalty when I’m around.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. Inside, you browsed, danced a little when your song came on. And when it came time to pay, you reached for your card … just to see what he’d do.

He was across the store, deep in conversation with the stylist. But he saw you move. His head turned fast. Five quick steps, and he was there, hand slipping around yours, gently guiding it down. “Don’t.” His voice was calm. Certain.

You swallowed. “I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you were.” He brushed his thumb over your knuckles, then kissed them. “If I’m here, you don’t do anything. Got that yet?”

And the thing is, it wasn’t about money. It wasn’t about doors. It was about what it meant. The quiet, steady promise stitched into every small act.

That same night, it happened again at the hotel. You were laughing, caught in the rhythm of his jokes, when your hand reached for the gold handle of the revolving door. He caught your wrist. “Aye.”

You turned, surprised. “What?”

“What did I say?”

Your breath caught, immediately knowing the answer to the question but choosing to remain silent like a scolded toddler.

“Am I around?” He asked after a brief moment.

“Clearly.”

“Then act like it.” He opened the door, his hand resting at the small of your back as you stepped inside. And once you were through, he leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’m not doing this because you need me to. I’m doing it because I want to. Because you deserve to move through this world like somebody’s got you. Like you can finally exhale. Let me be that.”

You noticed everything after that.

The way he carried your work bags without asking. Checked you into hotels and trips without needing a word. Watched you like you were wild and delicate all at once; worthy of care, not control. Reverence, not rescue.

“No doors. No checks. No questions,” he murmured, kissing your temple as the elevator doors closed. “You’re mine. Let me act like it.”

It didn’t stop at dates. Or hotels. Or dinners where you weren’t allowed to even glance at the check. When Michael said, You don’t lift a finger when I’m with you, he meant it. Especially when you traveled.

From the second the trip began, you weren’t your own responsibility anymore. You were his. Not in a controlling way, but in that careful, deliberate, I got you so completely it’s second nature kind of way.

The trip, for him, started at home, when he told you to sit down and sip your coffee while he brought your suitcase downstairs. You offered to help once, halfheartedly, because you already knew the look he’d give you, and sure enough, he paused mid-stairwell with a sharp eyebrow and a smirk. “You tryna get popped again?”

You held up your palms in surrender, laughing. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“I don’t need help. I need you to relax. Matter fact,” he set the bags down, crossed to you, and kissed your forehead. “that’s your only job for the next four days.”

At the curb, it continued. He opened the Uber door before you could reach for it, helped you in with a hand on your lower back, then rounded the car to load both of your suitcases into the trunk by himself. You tried again, leaning out to ask if he needed anything, but he didn’t even look up. “Get comfortable,” he said. “Turn your heated seat on. I’m almost done.”

By the time you got to the airport, you’d already been relieved of your travel documents. He held your passport, boarding pass, and ID in his back pocket, patting it every so often just to reassure you.

“I can carry something, you know,” you teased.

He looked at you like you’d cursed in public. “You do not carry,” he said, hoisting your carry-on with one hand and taking yours with the other. “You glide.”

At TSA, he had it down to a science. He pulled the bins before you even spotted the stack, laid out your coat, shoes, and electronics with quiet efficiency. As you stepped up, he tilted his head and held out his hand. “Bracelet, too, baby. You know they gon’ make you take it off.”

You slid it into his palm, biting a smile and rolling your eyes, and watched him place it gently into your bin like it was fine china. When it was time to walk through the scanner, he waited on the other side, arms open for you to walk into as soon as you cleared it.

“Easy,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Just like that.”

At the gate, he had your favorite snacks ready, somehow remembered from a trip the two of you took three months ago. He’d already scanned the seating chart to make sure you had the window like you liked, and when boarding started, he carried your bag and his, scanned both passes, and guided you down the jet bridge with that steady hand on the small of your back.

You barely touched a thing. And when you tried to joke about it, a little overwhelmed by how seamless he made it all feel, he just shrugged and looked at you like the answer was obvious.

“You do so much, baby. Every day. For everybody.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping just for you. “So if I can give you a couple hours where you don’t gotta think, where you don’t gotta lift, or plan, or worry about a single thing. Just let me take care of it. Let me show you what it feels like to be taken care of right.”

The rest was gradual. There were little shifts, little gestures that you didn’t think much of until one day you realized: you hadn’t driven yourself anywhere in weeks.

It started with him grabbing the keys before you did. At first, it was just casual: “Nah, I got it, come on.” But it became a pattern. 

Before you could blink, Michael was always behind the wheel, adjusting the seats, curating a playlist you didn’t even know he’d noticed you loved. Making sure the A/C hits your legs just right. He’d swing open the passenger door with a smooth, practiced grace and tap the roof before helping you in like you were stepping into a chauffeured town car instead of your own vehicle.

“You good?” he’d ask, one hand still lingering on your thigh before he circled around to drive.

You’d nod, half-melted, every time.

Because who would want to drive when the man next to you makes you feel like royalty on a cross-country tour just to go to brunch?

And it didn’t stop there.

You’d be in the middle of your day when a casual text would come through: Taking your car to get detailed. Left the Range for you in case you NEED it. I’ll be back in an hour.

Or, Oil change done. Full tank. Tires checked. You’re welcome. :)

And the most you could do was send back a heart emoji or a voice note calling him annoying, because any attempt at gratitude would get deflected with an “Aight, relax. That’s what I’m here for.”

But the gas station? Oh, the gas station is where the line got drawn in thick, permanent ink.

Because one afternoon, he pulled into the Shell station after a long day, parked, and hopped out while you unbuckled your seatbelt.

Just as your fingers wrapped around the door handle, you heard it.

“Don’t.”

You froze. “What?”

Michael whipped around the pump with a look so disbelieving, you’d think you just tried to fight him. “You thought you were about to get outta this car and pump gas. With me right here.”

“I was just trying to help—”

“No, see,” he said, pointing, “this is why I have to retrain you. Every time you do something like this, it’s like you forget I exist.”

“It’s gas, Michael.”

“It’s my job,” he corrected. “Sit there and be cute. Matter fact…” He leaned into the window. “Try it again, and I’ll block your card from working at gas stations. Don’t play with me.”

You laughed. He didn’t. Not until he got back in, slid a hand over your thigh, and kissed your cheek. “Now change the playlist. I’m feeling something old school.”

Not when he took your car before you could even notice it needed to be touched. Not when he reached for your keys with a look that said don’t make me embarrass both of us. And definitely not when he stopped you from pulling open the car door with that same firm, gentle hand on yours and a single question, low and amused: “You tryna get popped, baby?”

No. No you were not.

You were the passenger princess. And he made sure you wore that crown daily.

And it was always funny… until it wasn’t. You’d mentioned it casually the first time, over cocktails with your girls, legs tucked up on the patio seat as the sun started dipping behind the skyline. “I swear he’s training me, y’all,” you muttered, laughing into your glass.

Tati nearly snorted her mojito. “Training you to do what, exactly? Sit pretty and let him open doors?”

“Pretty much,” you shrugged.

“Oh, come on,” Kris groaned. “Ain’t no man out here walking around with a syllabus and a PowerPoint for how to love you.”

Nas grinned, skeptical. “So what? You don’t open your own doors now?”

“I can’t,” you said, deadpan. “I tried at the hotel last week and he smacked my hand like I touched something hot.”

Lex was already cracking up. “Oh my God.”

“He takes my keys. Pumps my gas. Carries all the bags. I haven’t paid for anything myself in months.”

They thought it was cute. A little fantasy. A joke with real rich-boy flavor. Until they realized you were serious. And what got them to make the connection: your phone lit up with his name and the ringtone he picked out himself.

You answered with a soft, “Hey baby,” already knowing what was coming.

“You still at the rooftop spot on Grace?” Michael asked, voice smooth as ever.

“Mmhmm.”

“You on the side with the valet entrance or the front?”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Front.”

“Aight. Be there in five. Don’t move.”

“Kay.” You hung up and turned back to find four pairs of suspicious eyes locked on you like they’d just witnessed a twist ending in a thriller.

“He’s picking you up?” Kris asked slowly.

“He just calls like that?” Nas added, mouth open.

You nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world. “We share our locations. I don’t even try to beat him to the pickup spot anymore. It’s a waste of energy.”

Lex pointed at your drink. “You’re not paying for that either, are you?”

You just slid the heavy black card across the table like a mic drop. The one with your name under his. The one that buzzed your phones every time you used it because he insisted on keeping the notifications on. Just in case.

“You’re joking,” Tati breathed, lifting it with reverence like it might dissolve if she stared too long. “He let you on his account?”

“Didn’t ask,” you said with a laugh. “He just handed it to me one morning and said, ‘Use this. Stop touching your own money. I mean it.’”

“Okay, but like… why?” Nas blinked.

“Because it’s easier,” you admitted, sighing dramatically. “Do you know how exhausting it is to hear a whole damn lecture because I paid for a $12 salad with my own debit card?”

Kris gasped, already laughing. “No he doesn’t—”

“Oh, he absolutely does,” you cut in. “I was just going to lunch with my coworkers last week. I thought it didn’t count. He called me mid-chew to ask why he didn’t get a notification.”

Tati was wheezing now. “He knows when you use your own money?”

“He doesn’t track my spending but I swear it’s like he can feel it,” you said, dead serious. “I have receipts. He acts like I’ve personally disrespected him and his ancestors.”

Lex wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “Okay, I'll take it back. This man has a training regimen. You’re not being dramatic.”

“I told you,” you grinned, sliding the card back into your purse. “I’m not allowed to lift a finger. If I try? It’s a whole thing. A ride-home lecture thing.”

Sure enough, five minutes later, a blacked-out SUV pulled to the curb, and there he was: leaned against the hood, phone in one hand, other hand already lifting in a beckoning wave like let’s go, baby.

He opened the door before you even said goodbye, hand outstretched for yours.

And as you walked away, you heard Kris whisper behind you, “…Nah, he really is training her.”

You waited until the car doors were shut and the engine hummed beneath you, the soft R&B playing low in the background. His hand had already found your thigh, like it always did, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles just above your knee as he pulled away from the curb.

You watched him for a minute. How relaxed he was. The way his jaw shifted when he checked the mirrors. The tiny crease between his brows as he merged into traffic with one hand.

Then you turned to him, lips curled into a smirk. “You know the girls think it’s hilarious that you’re ‘training me.’”

Michael didn’t even look over at first. He just let out a quiet, knowing sound, deep in his chest. “Do they now?”

“They’re like, ‘Is he building a custom housewife? Teaching you not to open doors or touch money?’” You laughed softly, head falling back against the seat. “I think Kris said you must have printed out a whole syllabus.”

That made him chuckle. Finally, he glanced your way, a smug little tilt at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t need a syllabus. You were already perfect. Just needed a little… refinement.”

You gave him a look, lips parted like you couldn’t believe him. “Refinement?”

He shrugged, completely unfazed. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with learning how to be treated right. You’re too used to doing everything yourself. I’m just reminding you that you don’t have to.”

“I know that,” you muttered, but there was no heat behind it.

He gave your thigh a squeeze. “Do you, though? Or do you still feel guilty when you don’t split a bill or carry your own shit?”

You were quiet for a beat. “…A little.”

“Exactly.” He shook his head with a tsk. “You've been holding it down so long you think that’s normal. But not with me. Not ever with me. If I’m here, I’m handling it. All of it.”

You glanced over at him again, your chest pulling tight in that stupid, swoony way he had mastered. “Still,” you said, biting back a grin, “the girls think it’s giving 1950s husband with a modern credit limit.”

Michael laughed out loud at that. Deep, warm, proud. “Good,” he said. “Tell Jamal and them I said they should take notes. I got mine trained and spoiled.”

You shoved his arm playfully, cheeks burning. “I am not trained—”

“Really?” he said, buzzing into the front gate of your home, pulling slowly into the driveway. “Whose card did you use at lunch?”

You groaned.

“Exactly.” He cut the engine and looked over at you fully now, expression softening. “You don’t have to prove nothin’ to me. Not your independence. Not your strength. I already know who you are.” He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your temple. “So let me show you who I am. Again. And again. Until you stop fighting it.”

“…So you’re just gonna keep lecturing me every time I use my own money?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, dead serious. “I will nag you to death, baby. You will pray for peace and find none.”

You laughed, fully exasperated and fully, hopelessly in love. “Ugh. Fine.” 

“Good girl,” he whispered, slipping out to open your door. He circled around the car with that confident stride, opened it smoothly, and held out his hand like he always did: palm up, fingers slightly curled. You took it, stepping out as his other hand slid to your waist, steadying you. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a second, a soft smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in just enough to make your breath catch. “You know I got you, right?” he murmured.

You nodded, heart thudding, and he closed the door behind you, hand never straying far from the small of your back as you walked inside together.

Because yeah… he was training you.

But you had to admit: you kinda liked it.

-

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[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.15 -- final)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Fifteen, Final) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,591 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Note: I had a lot of extra things I wanted to add in (not mentioning the two other ways I considered taking the fic) but they were fleeting and not conducive to the plot. Just day to day things and I didn’t want to drag it out more than it needed to be. I am satisfied with this and I hope you guys are too.

Part Fourteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Steve shook his head, scrolling through his phone across the table from you. His dinner was barely touched he was so engrossed in what he was reading. He must have felt you staring because he looked up, making eye contact with you.

You swallowed and asked now that you had his attention, “What is making you so upset?”

Reluctantly, Steve told you, “Gossip columns. About us. About you.”

“Well, I don’t know about that because I don’t have my phone… or internet access at that.” Steve’s face was stoic at your remark and you shrugged, unable to mask your scorn “You’re the one who put my face out there. Can’t blame people for being concerned about one of their stars.”

“You forced my hand,” Steve told you in a low voice. “Did you not?”

You took another bite of your food, knowing you were toeing a line.

Steve put his phone down, scooting his chair closer to yours, invading your space. “Did you not?” he repeated with more force.

“I did,” you whispered.

His fingers ghosted along the side of your face. “Like I told you… you don’t think about the repercussions of your actions. You were acting unstable. Nothing like yourself. I had to do it to bring you back. I had to do it to keep you safe.”

He was so insistent in his chivalry about whisking you back home, keeping you barred inside. You blocked out what he was saying about you, like he was blaming you for reacting perfectly normally to being kept in a cage. You wanted to move onto something else.

“Did you pay that person… who turned me in?”

“Yes.”

“Are Yua and Natalie back at their jobs?”

“Yes.”

You proposed honestly, “How can I be sure? That you’re telling me the truth? When I cannot even check on them myself?”

“You don’t trust me?” Steve’s eyes were hard, challenging you.

What a loaded question.

“I don’t see any reason why you would lie to me about it,” you lied yourself in response.

Steve looked tickled by your response, but you also sensed displeasure in his tone. “Y/N… I have enough money and power to ruin them if I wanted to. And I wouldn’t keep it a secret from you because there would be a damn good reason I would have done so. And I would want you to know what lesson you were supposed to learn. So, darling, trust me when I tell you that they are okay. I listened to what you requested. I can be reasonable when you behave.” He leaned back, eyes searching your face. He let out a small sigh seeing the meek expression on your face, “Over time you’ll get your phone back... your friends coming around to visit again.”

He was waiting expectantly for you to answer, to say anything.

“I understand.”

Steve’s hand was warm, grasping yours. “You did good, doll face…” he praised gently. “You came back to me. You brought the babies back. I am desperate to see you mothering our children… swelling with more of them.” He reached over, picking up an envelope on top of the stack of papers near him. He held it up to you and said, “And I intend to make good on my word about making it official.”

Steve handed it to you and you took it from him gingerly. Unfolding the papers inside, you looked down at the paper, seeing it was a marriage application.

Confused, you asked, “You… you don’t even want to have a ceremony?”

“Do you want a ceremony?” Steve asked seriously.

“Yes,” you breathed. If you were going to get married, you wanted to at least celebrate it. Have something to look forward to if you were going to be legally bound to him.

“Hmm.” Steve looked contemplative. “I didn’t think you would be interested in that.” He paused, chewing on the thought. He blew a small raspberry, reaching for his phone. “Well, maybe it is a good thing I did float the idea.” He began to hand the phone to you but paused, cocking his head slightly. “Now… I’m gonna let you look at this because Wanda was able to find some beautiful maternity gowns. Tell me what you think of them. Don’t search anything else. Understand?” You nodded and he handed you his phone and you stared down at it, shocked to see wedding gowns.

Being pregnant was not something you had considered for the ceremony. Or particularly wanted for your wedding day photos.

“Do we have to move so quickly?”

“Yes,” Steve responded curtly.

“Why?”

“Because I want it to all be settled before the babies get here.”

The only reason he would want that… he had to have an angle. There must be something that he wanted.

“Can I—”

“Small ceremony, Y/N,” Steve cut you off, as if he knew exactly what you were going to ask. And you could not fathom how he could just read you like a book. It unnerved you. He was observant and it was detrimental to you. “I already have the list and the venue was set.”

“The v-venue?”

He threw you a smirk, “I was banking on you wanting a ceremony.”

So that is what Tony had been talking about.

<><><>

Your hands ran over the gown. The beaded sheer top above your bustline glittered in the light. You were a little chilly with your bare arms, but you barely noticed above your nerves. Surprisingly, you had been left alone in the room serving as the bridal suite. Not that you could make a run for it anyway in this dress and with your stomach. You snorted at the thought of you running down the street; it did calm you down a little.

Yet, you still wished your friends had been able to attend but it was ‘family’ only as Steve had said. And that family meant the team.

The door opened, drawing your attention.

Wanda was standing there, and she stopped, seeing you done up.

“You look lovely,” she said gently, a sincere smile on her face.

You returned her smile, giving a quick nod. You found yourself more often than not, cradling your stomach, and here you were again. You grimaced when one of the twins gave a particularly hard kick and Wanda noticed.

She was at your side immediately, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you breathed, nodding. “Would be terrible to have the babies at 28 weeks… far too early.”

“Not uncommon though.” Wanda still sounded unsure.

You waved her off. “I’m fine. Really. They’re just kicking and moving around.”

Wanda relaxed a little and said, “Alright, if you’re sure. Well, they’re ready. Are you?”

Shakily, you told her, “Yes. Yes, of course.”

The room was bright, draped in shades of sky blues. White petals were scattered along the aisle down to where Steve was standing. You breath caught at the sight of him, causing you to hesitate in your stride. Steve looked handsome, so very handsome. Somehow you made it to the end of the aisle, coming to stand in front of him. You hardly could contain the smile that came to you, unable to block out the happiness you felt coming off of him in waves. He looked so sure, so satisfied as he took your hand in his.

His words were sweet, loving. You tried to breathe easy as he slipped the ring on your finger, noticing the hungry look on his eyes. When you were told to kiss, Steve guided you, his lips dominating yours.

Signing away on the marriage certificate, you noticed his lips twitch watching you. He was elated. He was getting exactly what he wanted… you. Forever.

The night would have gone smoothly if you had not felt another hard kick from the babies. It felt different. It was not a normal kick.

Your fork clattered to your plate over your dinner at the bridal table. Your hand came to your stomach, your face twinged in pain.

Steve’s laugh faltered, his attention drawn from Bucky next to him.

“Y/N?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious. Bucky was leaning forward, sharing Steve’s look of concern.

Trying to play it off, you nodded with difficulty. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Another kick hit and you grimaced, a sharp gasp leaving your mouth. “Okay, maybe I’m not.”

Steve was standing and staring down at you in worry. The rest of the team had noticed and were hanging in suspension as they realized there was something wrong.

“I’ll get the car,” Steve declared. “Tony, Bucky, can you help her outside? I’m getting the car.”

Without waiting for them to answer, Steve was already halfway to the door, his stride quick.

Tony and Bucky were there, hands holding you as they helped you stand. You whimpered, your belly tight, soreness swirling in your hips and lower back. You had had period cramps before but this was something else entirely.

You felt wet and looked down at your legs. Your dress was soaked in a stream and you let out a strangled noise. Your water was broken and panic began to set in.

“Oh, boy, yeah,” Tony said sounding like he was trying to keep himself calm since he noticed it as well as him and Bucky helped you walk towards the door.

“I’m not ready,” you begged, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. “I’m not ready!”

“I don’t think you’ve got much of a say in the matter,” Tony told you, trying to make a joke. He gave a small laugh, but you could tell he was nervous. You cried out and he quickly held to you as your knees threatened to buckle underneath you. “Oh, shit. Okay. Keep steady, sweetheart.”

“I can’t!” you snapped at him.

Tony closed his mouth.

Bucky grunted as your legs quivered and you leaned into him as you reached the door. They helped you down the stairs as carefully as they could as you heard tires squeal to a stop at the curb. Steve had been speeding from the parking garage.

Steve got halfway out of the car, but Bucky said, “We got it. Don’t worry.”

They helped you get into the front seat of the car and you gripped the sides of the chair, closing your eyes as another contraction rumbled through you. You heard Bucky get into the backseat of the car and slam the door closed.

Steve took off quickly, promising you he would get you to the hospital as quickly as possible. He was doing well hiding his anxiousness, channeling it into assuring you and telling you it was going to be okay.

<><><>

“It was the goddamn stress!” Steve grated furiously. “She should have stayed home! She shouldn’t have run off! Why was she so stupid?”

He was pacing angrily in one of the waiting rooms down the hallway. Y/N had given birth to both of the babies, far prematurely. They had both been whisked away to the NICU without Y/N and Steve both given much time to see them, let alone hold them. They were reassured they would be able to visit once the babies were set up safely. It did not sit well with Steve. Y/N was exhausted and was having trouble staying awake, so he had left the room when he was sure she was alright. She needed rest.

But now that he was out of the height of the situation, anger began swirling at the risk she had been put at along with the babies.

The team had shown up, still dressed in their wedding attire.

No one argued with Steve. He might very well have a valid point about it and saying anything to the contrary was not going to calm him down.

Steve ground his teeth, hands coming to his hips in frustration.

“They said the babies are alright though?” Natasha finally spoke.

Steve looked over at her and shrugged, “I think. I don’t know. They said they needed to be put on oxygen. That doesn’t sound good to me.”

“It’s probably precautionary, Steve,” Pepper offered gently.

Finding an empty chair, Steve sat down in it heavily, resting his elbows on his thighs. His eyes swept around the room, taking everyone in. He could see the unquiet in their expressions, their worry for him. He was supposed to be the one keeping everyone levelheaded; that was his job. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment. He just needed a moment to compose himself and be strong for everyone else.

When he opened them again, he said, “It better be. It’s gotta be.”

<><><>

Steve was there when your eyes fluttered open. It took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the light in the room, even though it was dimmed. You focused in on the sheets and your gown. And then you felt the remnants of pain in your lower half, even though it was dull now.

It all hit you at once and you tried to sit up too quickly. You gasped in pain and Steve was halfway out of his chair.

“You’re fine,” he said in a rush, his hands coming to your arms. His eyes were swimming with worry. “Don’t get up, Y/N. You need to rest.”

Breathing erratically, you looked at him in alarm. “T-the babies?”

“They’re in the NICU,” Steve assured you quickly. “One is breathing on her own, the other is on tubes. But they think that he will be able to breath on his own soon.”

You stared at him and demanded, “You’ve seen them?”

“Yes. You did too. Briefly.”

That came back to you too. You had seen them. You had been awake for everything. But the exhaustion had taken over.

“But… you saw them? Without me?” you asked weakly.

“Yeah,” Steve admitted, slowly sitting back down in his chair. “I haven’t held them, but I’ve seen them. Through the window.” His hands rubbed your arms affectionately. “Y/N, doll face, really. You need to lie back. You lost a lot of blood.” That’s when you noticed the IV and everything attached to you. “They treated you and replaced but you’re still going to be weak.”

You did as he asked, lying back on the plethora of pillows behind you. He physically relaxed at you reclined, but he was still leaning towards you, ever watchful.

His tone was sympathetic, “I don’t like you sick. I don’t like worrying about you. I’m supposed to protect you.” His thumb traced across your lips, concern swimming in his eyes now. “I hope though you’ll take something from this… that you’ll think twice about being reckless. I don’t want our future children being put through this, Y/N. I don’t want you being put through this. I want you to be secure, relaxed… safe under my watch.”

Steve’s other hand came to rest on your stomach and you felt a sense of foreboding flooding in. His closed mouth smile conveyed confidence, his hand gently caressing. “Despite all of that stress though… you pulled through. You are special, Y/N. I can’t wait to watch you swell again.” He was sincere, gaze intense, and his fingers holding you close. “You are the most important thing to me. I’ll make sure next time goes more smoothly for you. I’ll be there every step of the way next time.”

He leaned in close now, his lips brushing against your ear, “You’re all in my custody now. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog @mrsnegan25 @coconutqueen21

[batterycityghoul]

Boys Like You (Steve Harrington/Reader)

Summary: You’re sure Steve Harrington will never notice you. Billy Hargrove sets out to prove you wrong. 

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: Inspired by the song Boys Like You by Kids at Midnight. This is my first Steve Harrington fic, so I’m a bit nervous about this. If you like this, then letting me know would make my day. 

Masterlist / Read on AO3 / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

"Harrington again? Really, Y/N?"

"Shut up," you muttered, clutching your journal closer to your chest.  

Billy shot you an unimpressed look before glancing pointedly at the journal. Or maybe he was looking at your chest. With Billy, it was always a little hard to tell. 

"He's never going to stop sniffing after Wheeler," Billy pointed out as he dropped down into the seat beside you. "So, you should probably stop pining away for him in your little diary."

"Shut up," you repeated, shooting him a glare before you turned to drop your journal into your backpack.  

"I'm just saying," Billy started as he leaned closer to you. "I wouldn't mind helping you get over your broken heart."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, unaffected by his attempt at a come-on. "Just get your textbook out. We've got work to do," you reminded him as you flipped open your math notebook.  

You weren't really thrilled when Mrs. Green asked you to tutor Billy Hargrove. It wasn't even because you knew he was a shameless flirt and would attempt to get in your pants at every turn. It was because he was truly apathetic about the subject and you knew you would have your work cut out for you.  

After the first few sessions, you were more than a little surprised to realize that you were bonding with Billy. He always came off as a smart-ass who couldn't give less of a damn about school or anyone in it. It didn't take you many after-school tutoring lessons with him to realize that it was mostly just a façade. He acted tough and gave everyone shit, but there was something else going on with him. You just weren't quite sure what it was yet.  

When he caught you watching Steve and Nancy do their little heartbroken dance around each other, you were more than a bit worried that he would use your pathetic crush against you.  

Instead, he scoffed and shook his head before slinging his arm around your shoulders to steer you away from the former couple. "You can do better than Princess Steve, Y/N."

"What?" You were shocked by his words. He almost sounded like he cared.  

"Harrington has his nose stuck so far up Wheeler's ass," Billy continued with a roll of his eyes. "You deserve someone who's going to give you every ounce of their attention," he purred, a smirk forming on his face.  

"And there it is," you muttered before shaking off his arm from around your shoulders. "You're shameless," you told him before you walked away from him, ignoring the sound of his laugh as it followed you down the hallway.  

Now, Billy was considering you with an expression on his face that nearly had you concerned.  

"Okay," he drawled before he nodded his head.  

"Okay?" You couldn't help but wonder what he meant.  

"Okay," he confirmed before he opened his textbook and began to idly flip through the pages.  

"Okay?" You repeated, worry leaking through in your tone.  

His pleased smirk did nothing to reassure you about his intentions.  

You really should have known that he would find a way to fuck you over, though. It didn't happen until your third period math class the next day. Billy had taken to sitting in the seat next to yours. He claimed it was because he wanted to copy your work, but you couldn't help but start to suspect that Billy might actually think of you as a friend.  

You were waiting for him to drop down into the seat next to yours, but instead you noticed he took Steve's usual seat near the front.  

"Billy," you hissed in an attempt to get his attention.  

Billy glanced at you over his shoulder before sending you a wink. He then leaned across the aisle to start talking to Steve's usual neighbor, feigning interest in her backpack of all things.  

You were going to attempt to drag Billy to his rightful seat before you noticed Steve walk into the room. You felt your face flush as you dropped your gaze down to your notebook. You toyed with the cover, nearly ripping off the corner in your desperate bid for a distraction.  

"Move it, Billy," you heard Steve demand as he pulled to a stop near his desk.  

"Don't be rude, Harrington," Billy told Steve as he gestured towards the girl across the aisle from him. You noticed she looked nearly dazed at having Billy Hargrove's attention solely on her. "We're talking. Just take my seat today."

You shook your head and wished that you were brave enough to fling your notebook at his head. You really didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, though.  

You heard Steve huff out a defeated sigh before he continued down the aisle in your direction. You noticed Billy track his movements, a satisfied grin on his face, before he nodded at you.  

You bit your lip, burying the urge to yell at him as Steve slid into the seat next to yours.  

"That guy is a real asshole," Steve grumbled as he slumped further down in his seat. "How do you stand him?"

You froze for a moment as you racked your brain for a witty reply. Wasn't that why Steve liked Nancy? She was clever and funny and intelligent and beautiful. Even though she was with Jonathan Byers, he still seemed to be so smitten over her. What if you didn't quite measure up?  

"Uh," you managed to get out before glancing quickly to him. "By only listening to about ten percent of what he actually says?"

Steve studied you for a moment before he snorted in approval. "He's lucky you give him that much," he observed before he pulled a pair of sunglasses out of the front pocket of his coat and slipped them onto his face.  

You weren't sure if you were meant to say anything else, so you turned your attention towards the front of the class. You were aware of Steve twirling a pencil between his fingers as he waited for class to start. You wanted nothing more than to reach into your backpack and grab your journal. You had started a sketch of Steve the day before that you wanted to finish. There was an expression on his face now you longed to capture, but you wouldn't risk it with him sitting right next to you.  

It was bad enough that Billy had caught a glimpse of the sketch, but if Steve happened to see it?

You didn't think you would manage to live through that kind of humiliation.  

You were distracted for a moment by the sound of Billy's laughter. You couldn't help but wonder if he had another motive besides playing wingman for you with Steve as he leaned in closer to the girl next to him.  

You rolled your eyes before you shot a helpless glance at Steve.  

You were surprised to see that he was already considering you.  

"Sorry," he told you when he realized you caught him staring. "It's just..." he trailed off before shooting a look at Billy. "Aren't you two together?"

"No," you hastily denied with a quick shake of your head. "I'm tutoring him," you simply offered as an explanation. That wasn't really the right description for your relationship with Billy now, but you were hesitant to throw the 'friend' title around. Billy Hargrove didn't really seem the type to have friends and you didn't want to assume you were anything more to him than a way to get a better grade.  

"Huh," Steve breathed in acknowledgement.  

When he didn't offer anything else, you tried to think of a way to further the conversation. You longed to talk to Steve. You didn't really care about anything trivial like his previous status as high school royalty or his looks or perfect hair.  

No, your crush reached all the way back to elementary school when Tommy Hagan accidentally bumped into you at recess in second grade and sent you sprawling on the asphalt of the basketball court. You had tears in your eyes as you looked down at the scrapes on your knees, blood beginning to well in the cuts.  

Steve had been there to pick you up and escort you to the nurse's office. He stayed with you until the nurse assured him you would be fine.  

It only took one act of chivalry to spark a crush that would persist for ten long years.  

Over the years, you shied away from Steve. He had everyone wrapped around his finger and you couldn't help but think that you were nowhere near cool enough to warrant his attention. You spent so many afternoons in your kitchen lamenting your crush on Steve to your mom. She always tried to console you with a promise that you were far too special to hide from a boy you would forget about once you graduated high school.  

You knew better, though. You didn't think there would ever be anything or anyone capable of overthrowing Steve's reign over your thoughts.  

It didn’t help that things had changed. Steve had changed. He shook off his ‘King Steve’ status during junior year after he started dating Nancy Wheeler and started an unlikely friendship with Jonathan Byers.  

You knew you still didn’t stand a chance, but once word of Nancy dumping Steve started circulating around school, a foolish little flame of hope started to spark within you.  

You never would have thought that Billy Hargrove would be the one to try to keep it lit.  

When class started, you thought you lost the opportunity Billy had gifted to you. You were sure that Steve would zone out during class or attempt to listen to Mrs. Green’s lesson.  

You startled when the paper ball landed on your desk just a few minutes into Mrs. Green's lecture.  

You glanced to Steve in question, but he had his head tipped back as he seemingly stared at the ceiling.  

You slowly uncrumpled the piece of paper before reading the note scribbled on the page.  

You getting any of this?

You couldn't help the tiny smile that stole across your face at seeing Steve's message.  

You carefully wrote your own reply before slipping the paper back onto his desk once Mrs. Green's attention was back on the chalkboard.  

You managed to keep a conversation going with Steve for the whole class. You felt a little thrill whenever he chuckled or grinned at whatever you had written in response to his words.  

A part of you couldn't help but think that this was finally it. Steve had noticed you and you were finally having a conversation. Better yet, Steve seemed invested in what you had to say.  

By the end of class, you were starting to crave his responses. You hated that you had managed to go from hopelessly crushing on Steve to hopefully anticipating more of his attention.

You took your time packing up your things in a vain attempt to stall. Your next class was sadly Steve-free and you wished for one sign that you weren't being misguided to think that Steve wanted to keep talking to you.  

"So, hey," Steve started as he turned towards you. "I think..." he trailed off, his focus turning towards Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers as they passed by the doorway of the classroom.  

"You think?" You prompted when he didn't seem like he planned on elaborating.  

"I'll see you later," Steve mumbled before he hurried from the room. You felt yourself practically deflate at the sound of him calling Nancy's name.  

"Come on," Billy coaxed as he grabbed your backpack. "I saw you passing your little notes to Harrington. Fess up, Y/N. You got a date yet or what?"

"No," you answered as you reached out to try to take your backpack from Billy.  

Billy carefully held your backpack just out of reach as he turned towards the door. “Well, something must’ve happened,” he pointed out as you trailed dejectedly after him.  

“Nothing happened,” you told him before you finally managed to pull your backpack from his grasp.  

"Ah," Billy mused when he led you out into the hallway and caught sight of Steve talking to Nancy. Billy clapped a hand to your shoulder and began to lead you away from the pair. "Tough break, kid," he muttered, completely ignoring the fact that you were the same age. "We'll just try harder next time."

"Please don't," you pleaded as you tried to forget how mortified you felt in that moment. You didn't think you could take more heartbreak or a possible rejection from Steve. You would simply live out the rest of your senior year with your head down and ignoring your feelings for Steve Harrington. They hadn't gotten you anywhere in a decade and you doubted they would be much use to you now.  

"Too late," Billy responded with a shake of his head. "I can't take you moping about anymore, so if it's Harrington you want, then it's Harrington you'll get."

You considered Billy for a moment, wondering why he was so adamant about fixing you up with Steve. As far as you were aware, they hated each other. But one look at Billy's earnest expression had you caving.  

"Fine," you finally conceded with an exasperated groan. "Do your worst."

"Oh, I plan to," Billy assured with you a smug grin that did nothing to quell your nerves.

Author’s Note: Part 2???

[badlucksav]

Do you have any headcanons for some YuTen kids? What Azula and Zuko might be like as Aunt and Uncle? Iroh or Arnook as a grandpas?

Hey Anon! Thanks for the ask. I hadn’t considered YuTen kids (are they also considered steambabies? Or does that only apply to kids of benders? I don’t know lol) so I had to think on it, so here goes!

I like to think that they might have some trouble conceiving, so each time Yue falls pregnant it’s basically considered a miracle and a blessing from the spirits. Maybe the fact that she’s been touched by the moon spirit contributes to this? Who knows. Anyway.

Putting it under a cut cause it got a little long lol.

First YuTen baby is Crown Princess Akira (meaning vermillion and white jasmine) (yes, I know I made her a JunTen baby in my modern AU fics, leaf me alone). She was born at the peak of summer. She’s the only bender of their brood (a firebender). After years of trying to conceive, Lu Ten and Yue are ecstatic when she’s born. She takes her duty very seriously (like her mom), excels in her studies, and is considered a prodigy firebender by her teachers. She loves learning, and therefore spends a lot of time traveling with her aunts and uncles to visit the SWT, Earth Kingdom, the Air Temples, and the NWT to learn their cultures, laws, and history.

Born three years after his sister is Prince Kallik (lightning). He’s a non-bender. He’s a quick learner, and he easily masters weapons (including dao swords, taught by his uncle Zuko, and undergoes honorary Kyoshi Warrior training from his aunt Suki). He’s not as interested in his studies, and would rather be practicing his weapons or doing something else, like playing Pai Sho with Iroh or hide and explode with Uncle Aang (when he’s around). He often causes mischief, but his charming personality makes it hard to stay mad at him for long. He’s restless, and when he’s older he often accompanies Aang traveling the world.

Born four years after her brother, we have Princess Uki (survivor). Yue’s pregnancy with her was difficult, and they nearly lost her during the birth. As such, Lu Ten and Yue are a little more protective over her than her siblings. Uki is a gentle soul. She loves animals, and she’s often found in the palace stables with the mongoose lizards, ostrich horses (imported), and the messenger hawks. Uki also likes to read scrolls by the turtleduck pond (her favorite is Love Amongst the Dragons). She learns chi blocking from Auntie Ty Lee and knife throwing from Aunt Mai, although she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She has a mind for politics and diplomacy, so she studies a lot under Uncle Sokka and Uncle Aang, in the hopes of becoming an ambassador one day.

Despite being the oldest members of the GAang, they are some of the last to have children. So Zuko and Katara have already been through it, and are a huge help to new parents YuTen. Zuko loves his nieces and nephew just as much as he loves his own kids, so he tries to spend as much time as he can with them. It’s a common sight to see a gaggle of children (both his own and Lu Ten’s) hanging onto his robes as he goes about his business. He helps Lu Ten learn to braid Akira’s hair to surprise Yue. He loves teaching Kallik the ways of the sword (and insists Uncle Sokka doesn’t know what he’s doing). He and Uki can often be seen re-enacting Love Amongst the Dragons (he dusts off his old Blue Spirit costume to do it). He teaches all of the to ride dragons on Druk.

Azula is a great aunt, even if she sometimes tells the kids that the only way to win is by crushing their enemies. She enjoys helping Akira with her forms and tells her that she reminds Azula of herself at that age. She and Kallik often get into mischief together (“That minister was up to no good, LuLu, we had to set the ends of his robe on fire!”). Azula helps Uki learn battle strategies (“We’re in peace times, La La!” “So? It doesn’t hurt to know just in case!”). She helps the kids master their deportment and chivalry lessons, and she’s the one who teaches Akira to master lightning bending.

Iroh, of course, adores his grandchildren. He spoils them all before they’re even born, filling their nurseries with gifts. He teaches them all Pai Sho and how to brew the perfect pot of tea. They often come to visit him when he retires to Ba Sing Se and abdicates the throne (I don’t care, Iroh deserves to have his own tea shop). He passes away before they reach full initiation, but he begins their training to become members of the White Lotus.

Arnook loves when the children come to visit. He’s often known to mutter under his breath, “Hahn? What was I thinking?” He takes Uki under his wing, allowing her an honorary seat on his council so she can see how diplomacy and ambassadorship works firsthand. He takes Kallik ice dodging (I’m not sure if that’s a SWT exclusive, but I like the thought of both tribes doing it). He likes having Akira spar against his best waterbender and boasts like the proud grandpa he is when she wins.

[hockeybabestars]

august/september fic recs

since september is over here are my fic recs i’ve read over the past two months!! i know i’ve been a lil m.i.a lately but just wanted to let all you fic writers know you’re appreciated. much love <3

canucks

mornings with you - brock boeser by @prettyboybarzal : all i can say is SOFT. like puppy soft, melted butter soft. idk if this even makes sense but that’s how i feel. banter = perfect, and anything brock makes my heart stop. this was beautifully written.

mirrorball - brock boeser by @nolypats : okay the softest sweetest brock dad fic and it was frickin cute too. had me in a wave of emotions from laughing to crying. genuinely sweet please go read.

take my heart, i’ll give you my soul - brock boeser by @nolypats : seriously this fic wrecked me in ways i can only describe as amazing. i made myself wait a few days after it came out bc after reading the preview i knew my heart was gonna hurt, and damn did it ever. my heart broke with the characters and mended itself at the end. i was feeling a rollercoaster of emotions and you will 100% do the same. 100000000/10 must read

all my focus on you - jake virtanen by @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys : i love the totally blind and oblivious don’t know that you’re in love with someone until other people point it out look. it really does something to me. THE SOFTNESS OF THIS THO. i love it.

maple leafs

when fate stepped in - tyson barrie by @jasondickinsons : y’all know im a sucker for soulmate!au’s and im so invested in this series. the way tyson and the reader get to know each other and build their relationship is everything. i would consider this a slow burn and it burns so good. tyson’s chivalry will make you fall in love.

the plus one pact - william nylander by @puckinghell : listen the growth that the reader and willy go through individually in this story makes their ending so much sweeter. we love dynamic characters baby. also just imagine willy as your plus one to every event. like savor it. so good. i loved this series.

4 times you thought he would kiss you & 1 time he did - travis dermott by @jasondickinsons : this is so good. i’m a sucker for all the almost moments, and the ending could not have been more perfect. the way that kylie writes details gets my stomach turning literally everytime i read her writing. this is a story you can obsess over.

islanders

goodnight n go - mat barzal by @bandgirlsclub : i love this song and this was SUCH A CONCEPT. i loved the way sophie ended each part of this 4+1, it was literally perfect like all of her writing. I was hooked from the get go.

what your best friend doesn’t know - mat barzal by @jasondickinsons : well shit if this doesn’t get your heart racing i don’t know what will. the tension leading up is so palpable and good and then soft and sweet. loved it.

flames

all for you - brady & matthew tkachuk by @comphersjost : this fic and it’s second part gave me a slew of emotions. i was a wreck by the end of reading it. we love good old fashion pining. it’s it bad that i like to feel my heart hurt when i read this? probably. will i do it again? yes.

stuck with you - matthew tkachuk & vince dunn by @bandgirlsclub : tumblr made me love both of these guys and im not mad about it. this is so good. i was so conflicted about who i wanted the reader to end up with for the first three chapters but in the end it all works out. the bubble hockey fic you all need to read.

the one who needs saving - noah hanifin by @antoineroussel : i haven’t seen too many hanny fics on this site and that’s a damn shame bc that mans is a total cutie- and this fic def shows that. they form a friendship in the oddest of ways but they way that the reader and noah are there for each other makes my heart swell. i wasnt expecting it to end the way it did and i loved it! this was such a good read go see for yourself.

avs

lessons in romance - nathan mackinnon by @prettyboybarzal : one night i randomly searched “nathan mackinnon fic” and this popped up and WOW. im so glad i did. lowkey don’t know when or why or how i got into this mans but it suddenly happened and this fic isn’t helping. i am a soft girl and nate is learning how to be soft and the moments when he actually wants the reader make my stomach turn in such a good way. im in love with this story.

coupley things - nathan mackinnon by @broadstbroskis : i love mutual pining, hold up let me say it louder for the people in the back I LOVE MUTUAL PINING! holy shit this is adorable. wedding date nate is all we need in life

[a-libra-writes]

SALT & SNOW - CHAPTER 3

Ships: Ned Stark x Reader, Brandon Stark x Reader

Summary: Ned returns to Winterfell from the Vale for a short visit with his family, while Y/N gets some disappointing news about her’s ... and just generally has a bad time. Hope yall like fluff.

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For a time, Y/N felt guilty for how quickly the days began to pass and how she lost track of them. She always wrote to her mother and didn’t miss a letter, but sometimes the septa had to remind her, and sometimes she was so eager to write about what she was doing, she forgot to inquire after her family. She’d make it up by sending a lovely embroidery she was proud of, or a quick painting of some part in Winterfell she thought the boys would find interesting. They especially liked the ruined towers and horses, so she did her best to oblige them.

In the morning Lady Stark would give her a smile at breakfast, asking after her lessons like her mother did. Lord Stark was very different from her father and uncle, but he’d help her up on her horse if he was passing by, and he’d pat her head like they did. Even Brandon would have his moments of chivalry with her - between his immature japes - and of course, Lyanna and Benjen were her near constant companions. For as many days as she spent with just Lyanna, they were just as many days with Benjen joining them.

It was difficult to feel homesick in such happy circumstances, but Y/N would still feel it, especially at night when she’d awaken suddenly, hearing the wind hit against the window. She’d creep out of bed and open it, letting just a little cold air in, and her heart felt heavy when she smelled no salt in it, nor did she hear any waves in the distance. In the first weeks, that was enough to make a few tears run down her cheeks as she laid down to sleep.

She hadn’t cried from homesickness in some time, nor had she seen her family. It felt like it had been a very long time.

At dinner one evening, Y/N asked, “Lady Stark, how long has it been since I came to Winterfell?”

“It’s been nearly a year, perhaps a moon more.” Lady Stark said. She was still pale, but now Y/N was used to it. She often rested during the day, but always came to dinner. “Poor dear, you must want to see your family.”

“I do, but I’m happy to be here!” Y/N said quickly. “I love being at Winterfell.”

Lady Stark smiled. She patted Y/N’s cheek, and although the girl felt she was getting a bit old for that, the warm hand was comforting. “I do, too.”

“Couldn’t Y/N’s mother and father come to the feast this year?” Lyanna asked.

Lord Stark spoke like a man who had never lowered his voice for anything. “They will, don’t you girls worry about that. There’s someone else coming, though, someone you all will be very interested to see.”

Lady Stark grinned, and that got Brandon and Benjen’s attention. Brandon leaned in his seat impatiently. “Who?”

“Ned is coming home!” Lady Stark said, and immediately had to hush the outcry of happiness from the children and the teenager around her. She clapped her hands sharply. “Listen! He is only visiting, sweetlings, but he will stay for a fortnight. I asked Lord Arryn for it especially, since he is getting older, and will have to learn to travel during —”

Lyanna burst out. “He’s staying a whole fortnight?”

“Is he coming with some Vale knights? They have to show us how they fight in the South.” Brandon’s eyes had that fire Y/N noticed whenever he was sparring. He used real steel now. “I hope Lord Arryn taught Ned some interesting tricks.”

“Is the Baratheon boy coming too?” Benjen asked.

Her children clamored over one another. Lady Stark clapped again and sighed. “Enough! You can ask your questions when Ned gets here. If the gods are willing, he’ll be here a few days before the feast. I want you all to pray for his safe journey.”

Y/N, Lyanna and Benjen nodded obediently at this — neither of them neglected to visit the godswood each morning, even if Lyanna often yawned and fidgeted during the prayers — but Brandon decided to redirect his chattering to his father. Lately they were often together, and Y/N began to notice how much they resembled each other. Brandon wouldn’t stop growing, either, she overheard the maids sigh over how often they had to alter his clothing. He certainly ate like he was growing overnight.

Y/N felt much the same, even if much time had passed, although she did notice she could look over Benjen’s head now. Lyanna was still just a little taller, as usual, but the maids were also letting out their dresses … just not as often as Brandon’s tunics and trousers. Lyanna had begun to steal some of his old ones and roll up the pants legs to fit better, although her mother had become less patient with her blatant disregard of dresses.

They had gotten word from Jon Arryn when Ned left the Vale, and another one the day after he passed the Bloody Gate. A third raven was sent when he was within a day’s ride of Winterfell, and Lyanna was determined to stand vigil by the gate, as if she’d miss him completely if she wasn’t there to greet him. Benjen eventually got tired of the waiting, but it was easy for Y/N to wait patiently with her friend. She brought embroidery with her.

Lyanna leaned on Y/N as she looked down at the work. “Isn’t it boring? Doing the same thing again and again?”

“There isn’t much else for us to do. Don’t you ride to the same places on your horse?”

“It’s not the same thing at all!” Lyanna was aghast. “Well, it looks pretty. How do you know what a whale looks like?”

“My father showed me pictures in books, and they’re on my uncle’s maps. I’ve seen sharks and krakens, too.” Y/N would have embroidered those, but her uncle said krakens were cursed things, and a dainty, threaded shark didn’t match it’s fearsome reputation. Lyanna was going to say more, but both their heads snapped up as they heard the racket of horses and men.

“He’s here! He’s here!” She sprung up from the crate they were sitting on. Y/N shoved her work in her reticule and ran alongside her, although a Winterfell guard politely asked the girls to stand away from the gate while the horses came in.

Y/N expected a carriage and looked for one, but Lyanna pointed to one of the men on a horse — no, that wasn’t a grown man, but he wasn’t a boy, either. Y/N blinked once, then twice, and it was the soft grey eyes that hit her first. The rest of Ned followed behind that recognition. She couldn’t believe she had almost forgotten what he looked like, and that thought startled her. How could she forget those eyes?

He rode away from the small column and dismounted. Lyanna swung her arms around him at once. “Brother! You’re home!”

Ned was smiling, and it was such a good thing to see, but even better was how happy Lyanna was. Y/N’s heart swelled at the sight, knowing she missed Ned the most out of anyone, but then his grey eyes found hers. Y/N shivered, but not from the chill. She felt shy, which was silly, they’d met before, but …

Y/N looked down at her shoes and clasped her hands. She heard him step closer, and when she glanced up, those grey eyes were the first thing she saw.

She hastily looked elsewhere.

That’s how she noticed Benjen and Brandon heading toward them, looking just as excited as Lyanna. She knew Brandon had especially been wanting to see his brother again, maybe more than Lyanna. Y/N made room for them as the siblings made a little half-circle around their brother. It struck her how alike they all looked. They had their differences and little arguments, but they always protected one another.

Just like a pack.

“What are you doing?” Brandon asked her suddenly. Before Y/N could answer, the lordling took her hand and gently pulled her into the circle. “Ned, Y/N’s been living with us. You knew that, right? I almost wish they sent Lyanna to Whitetide.”

He didn’t have time to dodge the slap Lyanna gave the back of his head. Y/N watched Ned’s smile grow to a grin, and the sight of it made her stomach flip so much worse. It was best to stick to his eyes, or better, look at someone else. She was so distracted she hadn’t noticed that Brandon still had the light grip on her hand, even after Lyanna had hit him, and she carefully slipped out of it.

To Lyanna’s annoyance, Brandon was always taking Ned with him to go riding or practice in the training yard. As she and Y/N would cross the yard to etiquette lessons or worse - dancing - Lyanna would have a palpable impatience as she tried to get through the hours. Once they were finished, she’d sprint out to join her brothers, calling for Y/N to catch up. Sometimes it was annoying, but Y/N could understand. She was antsy to see her parents and Willam, and maybe even little Rickard, if they decided to bring him.

Y/N had a feeling Lyanna was going to change into riding clothes and saddle up her favorite horse, and once she was on a horse … Well, Y/N absolutely wasn’t going to gallop off with the speed and ferocity Lyanna  was used to.

She hadn’t even stepped outside for more than a few moments before she heard someone trying to catch up to her. She turned as Lady Stark caught up with her, her breathing a little more than strained. Y/N was worried about the color of her face, pale in spite of her quick gait. She had a letter in her hand.

“Y/N, sweetling,” She called, stopping to catch her breath. Y/N wasted no time in walking to her so Lady Stark didn’t have to go any further. Before the young girl could ask if she was alright, Lady Stark continued with some difficulty. “I’m so sorry, dear, I just received word from Whitetide. Your parents cannot come to the feast.”

Y/N forgot about Lady Stark’s pallor. She blinked. “What?”

“Your brothers and uncle are abed with terrible colds, and your parents are worried about bringing the sickness here. It wouldn’t be safe with the feast and my - my own health,” Lady Stark explained. “As soon as your brothers are feeling better, they can come here to see you.”

Y/N couldn’t remember Willam ever being sick, and she herself had only had a handful of colds in her life. Her uncle said the sea air was the best for one’s body. How could he be ill, too? Worry began to form in her stomach, especially with Lady Stark’s obvious fatigue right in front of her. “Are you ill too, Lady Stark? Are you going to have to leave?”

Why was she surprised by the questions? She must have noticed. “I am well enough to greet our guests and eat a few courses. It’s nothing you need worry about, Y/N. Why don’t you write a letter to your brothers and wish them well?”

Baby Rickon can’t read yet, and Willam is so stubborn about his letters. Y/N didn’t argue, though. She’d write to her mother and ask if they were going to be alright, as well as her uncle. She had these awful, anxious feelings biting at her stomach and pulling at her heart.

“They will recover quickly, I’m sure of it.” Lady Stark patted Y/N on the hair, and for once, the gesture bothered her. She felt like she wasn’t being told everything, like she was a child - she was nearly a woman (well, she would be once she flowered). Still, for all the time she spent at Winterfell, she felt she couldn’t possibly overstep her bounds like that.

So, she simply said, “I’ll go to the godswood and pray for their health.”

Lady Stark beamed in approval. She put the letter in her sleeve, excused herself, and slowly walked back into the keep. Y/N watched her go, recalling the straight, elegant poise the woman used to walk with. She decided to pray for Lady Stark, too.

“You don’t have to go to the feast if you aren’t feeling well.” Lyanna insisted. “I’ll stay with you.”

It was a sweet thing to say, because Y/N knew Lyanna had been looking forward to the event as much as her. As much as she wanted to stay in their shared room and sigh over the absence of her family, it wouldn’t do any good, and Lyanna would just be a bundle of energy, urging her every few minutes if she felt better and wanting to distract her. Here at the party, Y/N could glide along the feast hall, avoiding conversation easily, while Lyanna jumped to whatever took her attention. Expecting a she-wolf to be still was asking too much.

Y/N assured her friend, “Your mother has been making us practice our manners and courtesies for occasions like this. Besides, I think I smelled chocolate in the kitchen.”

“I did, too!” Lyanna grinned. “I haven’t had chocolate in so long! I wonder if they made it into a cake or a drink! Father said we’d have to wait and see. Oh, let me braid your hair. It’ll be easier.”

Y/N handed her the brush and sat patiently while Lyanna chattered about the different banners she saw at the gates. In the past year Lyanna had become very adept at styling braids, considering how often she tied her hair back for riding. When she was finished, Y/N helped lace up her gown, and turned around so Lyanna could do the same for her. It was a familiar routine now, and they walked to the feast hall with linked arms.

Y/N sat on the dais with the Starks, an honored place, and by now she was used to how her seafoam and white dress stuck out amongst the Starks’ shades of grey, white and black. Only Lyanna and her mother afforded splashes of pretty blues. From Y/N’s seat, she could gaze over the entire hall. It used to be uncomfortable to have guests glance at the clearly odd one out, but by now most knew her and her situation. More pressing to Y/N’s attention was the seat Ned occupied, usually reserved for Benjen.

The youngest Stark had no problem giving up his seat, Lord Stark was humored by his children all trying to shuffle their seats to talk to Ned. Brandon just had to lean forward or back to yell, so finally Lady Stark told her children to stop shouting over each other and go mingle with the guests.

Y/N wanted to talk to Ned, but it seemed everyone did. She kept trying to meet his grey eyes, and the few times she succeeded, she couldn’t look for long without becoming bashful. I feel so foolish. I should be more direct like Lyanna, but what would I even say? He must have seen so many amazing things at the Vale, I want to know what it was like ... 

Worse than her stupid thoughts was the loneliness that kept biting at her. Anytime she heard a young boy laugh, she turned, expecting Willam. Northern men drinking and arguing reminded her of her father and uncle, and the women gliding around with long, trailing hair was similar to her mother. Even now, she had no one to speak with. Ned, Brandon and Benjen were wandering off with the other lordlings, and Lyanna was chatting away with the Ryswell sisters.

Y/N figured she may as well join that conversation. Lyanna eagerly pulled her into the circle. “Barbrey, you’ve met Y/N, haven’t you?”

“Several months ago, but I didn’t have my sister with me.” Barbrey was a tall and pretty girl, three years older than them. Back then and now, she spoke to Y/N and Lyanna like equals. It helped she and Lyanna shared a love of riding, and Lyanna could talk over adults about that subject. She glanced to her younger sister. “Well, say hello.”

Her sister was slighter and paler, with dark hair that looked very soft. She was almost hiding behind Bethany. “Um. It’s good to meet you. My name is Lady Bethany.”

“It’s good to meet you. My name is Lady Y/N of House Caspian.” Y/N said, and Lyanna bowed with her. Instantly, Lyanna asked, “Do you ride, Bethany?”

“Oh, some… Barbrey’s been teaching me.”

“She’s getting there.” Barbrey smiled. She had honey-brown hair that was tied back, and dark eyes that Y/N rather liked. They wore simple dark red and brown gowns that were lightly trimmed with fur. Bethany was pointedly looking at Y/N’s own gown, decorating in swimming rays instead of galloping horses, and she shyly smiled when Y/N held up the sleeve so she could look closer.

“The white silk is so pretty,” She said softly. “When it’s with the green like that, it makes me think of a spring day.”

“Thank you, that is a pretty thing to say,” Y/N beamed. “I especially like how it matches the pearl my father —”

Her fingers froze as she touched her braid. The familiar, round pearl wasn’t there.

Bethany gave Y/N a questioning look, but Y/N didn’t notice. Her heart seized in her chest and panic spread through every inch of her body. Air left her lungs, and she released a very steady breath, desperately willing away the tears that instantly sprang to her eyes.

Barbrey and Lyanna had been discussing stallions the entire time, and weren’t paying the other two any mind. Bethany asked, “Um … Lady Y/N, are you well …?”

“I…” No. My pearl is gone. My pearl is gone. The pearl my father gave me, the silver strings aren’t even there — Did it fall? Did it break?

Y/N swallowed her racing thoughts and her words. She realized she had a death grip on her braid, and she lowered her hand. Instead, she gripped the sides of her skirts and attempted a curtsy. “Excuse me, I … I feel too warm.”

She quickly turned away from Bethany’s big, concerned eyes. Y/N tapped Lyanna on the shoulder. “I’m stepping out for a moment. It’s too hot.”

“Truly? But —”

Y/N swept past her.

Did Lyanna braid it into my hair? She must have, she always does, I showed her how to carefully tie the silver strings. She’d never be careless — we were talking, but she wasn’t that distracted — what if it’s on the dais? Or our room? Or … gods, what if it fell in the snow?

Y/N’s heart froze as she recalled how badly Lyanna wanted to walk through the open courtyard, even though Y/N warned her about dirtying their gowns. No, not the snow. Anything but that. Finding a pearl in the stone feast hall or our bedroom can be done, but an entire snowy courtyard at night …

She tried to fight the tears springing to her eyes, but as she replayed her memories, she couldn’t recall touching her braid or looking at it. All she could think about was the vast courtyard, and how quickly she and Lyanna ran through it. It was stupid, she should have secured the pearl before they left the bedroom, or better, not run at all. She never wore it while riding, she always carefully tucked it away at bedtime — she couldn’t lose it. She just couldn’t.

The tears were warm and she rubbed at her eyes, trying to stop them, but she couldn’t keep her sobs down. She retreated to an empty hall with large, lonely windows. It was completely dark out. It may not have been snowing, but servants and horses and men were moving through the courtyard from now to morning. Her pearl would be trampled on and buried.

It was bad enough she couldn’t hear the waves anymore, or chase after Willam or listen to her Uncle’s stories or sit with her parents by the hearth and fall asleep on her mother’s lap as they talked.

Y/N took in a deep breath, trying to just stop and decide what to do, but her thoughts were racing and fighting each other, none of them helpful. Her pounding heart froze all over again when she heard someone behind her.

“I’m fine,” Y/N blubbered before they could say anything, or before she even knew who it was. She looked up from her long sleeves and blinked several times, trying to see through her tears.

Two hands touched her shoulders, and she could feel their warmth through her silk gown. It would have made her flinch away if it wasn’t Ned standing before her. She blinked again, and before any more tears could run to her chin and drop on the floor, Ned wiped at her cheeks with the sleeve of his grey and black tunic.

“Lyanna said you hurried away. Did something happen?” He asked quietly. Y/N almost had to strain to hear him over her heart hammering in her chest and the blood rushing in her ears.

She wanted to tell him, but where could she start? It was all a jumble in her head. She felt lonely, angry, hopeless and foolish all at once. It should have been icing on the cake to have Ned find her like this, crying like a child over a lost bauble, but …

He was truly worried, and he carefully wiped the other side of her face. Y/N felt just a little better. She sniffled. “I lost my pearl.”

“The one you always wear?”

She nodded. “M-my father gave it to me. I … I don’t know where it could be. I thought about the courtyard, but it’s big, and has so much snow and mud, I can’t …”

The tears threatened to come again, and she clenched her eyes tight. The hand that remained on her shoulder squeezed her gently. What could he do? What could anyone do? Y/N hated the thought of everyone stopping everything to look for the pearl, though she’d gladly crawl through mud for it.

“I could find it myself,” Y/N said suddenly. “If I had a torch … I-I just need a torch and I’ll go looking…”

“There’s no need for that.” Ned shook his head. His hair was longer than she remembered, but it was the Northern way. She was glad the Eyrie didn’t change that. “I’ll take you back to your room, maybe it slipped out of your hair while you dressed.”

Y/N deflated. “I don’t think it’s there.”

“It doesn’t hurt to look. While you do that, I’ll ask the servants to look around the feast hall.”

“What about the courtyard?”

Ned glanced aside as he considered something, then said, “Search around your chambers and see if it’s there. I’ll worry about what’s outside.”

“But…” Y/N tried to argue, but she was tired, and she could only resist so much. She wanted to hope. She allowed Ned to hook his arm in her’s and escort her back to her room. She could hear distant revelry as they walked, and she asked, “Aren’t you  missing the feast? Won’t your father look for you?”

“Well …” Ned smiled bashfully. “I’m afraid he challenged Lord Umber to a drinking contest.”

“Oh.” Y/N recalled Lord Umber and his staggering height. “Oh dear.”

“Benjen will keep Brandon from joining, hopefully.” Ned stopped at her bedroom door and opened it, making a point not to look inside. “After you look, get some rest, Y/N. You shouldn’t fret.”

She was well beyond fretting. Y/N said, “If I end up finding it here, I’ll come and tell you. I don’t want the servants looking on my behalf, I … Maybe, I can help them look tomorrow? Or, I can do it myself… I don’t want to impose, it’s my mistake …”

As she trailed off, Ned gave her another one of those small smiles. He touched her shoulder again, and she appreciated the touch all over again. “If you do find it, you can come find me, but if not, you ought to sleep.”

Y/N wished him a goodnight, shut the door, and took a deep breath before tearing into the room. She pulled up the fur rugs, searched around the hearth, looked under the bed, around the vanity, into all the drawers, under the fur blankets, in her trunk … By the time she finished, she was sweating and muttering unladylike things as she pulled open her gown’s delicate lacings.

Y/N slipped into bed with her hair a mess and her heart still hammering painfully. She felt like there was a hole in her heart without the pearl, which was a silly and stupid thing to think of, but she kept feeling it. As she closed her eyes and touched her messy braid, she willed herself to sleep, just sleep. Silent tears fell on her pillow as she drifted off slowly.

She dreamed about warm sand between her toes, seagulls circling above her head, and a tall boy in a grey tunic pulling at her arm. At some point, the dream was interrupted by Lyanna’s voice, but that quickly faded. When she returned to that beach, it was night time, and all she could hear was waves crashing hard against the docks. This time, she was alone.

Y/N rolled onto her side and opened her bleary eyes to the window in front of her. The sky was lightening, but the sun wasn’t yet up. She so rarely woke up this early, but her sleep had been restless. She closed her eyes and snuggled back under the furs.

Tap tap. There was the noise again.

Again? When did I hear it the first time? Y/N sat up slightly, scanning the room with a little worry. Embers were crackling quietly in the hearth, almost extinguished, and Lyanna was snoozing softly beside her. There was no wind hitting the window, nor was there a bird outside of it …

Tap tap.

The door. Y/N hesitated, then pushed off the fur blanket and carefully slipped out of bed. She shivered as she pattered her way to the door. The servants didn’t knock if they were just stepping in to stoke the hearth. She carefully unlatched the door, opened it just a few inches, then threw it open once she saw the visitor.

“Ned!” Y/N at least had the state of mind to whisper, although it was still too loud. The older boy gestured for her to lower her voice, so she did. “What are you doing?”

Ned didn’t say anything, he just held out his hand. Even in the almost darkness, Y/N could make out a perfectly white, glittering object.

“Oh!” She threw her hands to her mouth, then quickly held the pearl. It was as cold as ice, and Ned’s hands were no warmer. She just noticed he was trembling. “Where did you —? How? Wait, how late is it?”

“Y-You mentioned th-the courtyard.” Ned sniffled. She stepped closer to him, over the threshold, and saw he had a thick cloak thrown over his clothes.

Y/N squinted, her eyes adjusting to the dark, and she reached for him. She grabbed hold of his arm, and from there, she took his hand. It seemed colder than the pearl, and she shivered. “Ned, you’re almost frozen!”

“I’m not that cold,” He mumbled, squeezing her hand and obviously relishing in the warmth. Their fingers entwined, and his body shook of its own volition. Y/N wanted to pull away, he was far too cold, but she held there for a few moments.

“Thank you so much. I… I can’t begin to thank you,” She said, trying to keep up the whispering, but the relief was too much. She clutched the pearl tight as she untangled from Ned’s hand and wrapped her arms around his chest. He was sixteen now, and far taller, so he bent down awkwardly to meet her. When he did, Y/N pressed her lips to his cold cheek. Ned shivered and jerked instantly.

He’s really in a terrible state! Y/N couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t have been out all night in that cold, could he? She pulled away and said, “You need to find a hearth, a blazing one, right away! Your blood is going to turn to ice!”

She couldn’t believe the soft laugh that came from him. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he warmed himself before finding her, or waited until the morning. What an irresponsible thing to do! Y/N impatiently pushed him. “Right now! You’ll catch your death!”

“F-frozen blood or death, which is it?” Ned teased, but he allowed himself to be pushed away. The slightest light was beginning to come in from the many windows that dotted the walls, and Y/N saw how his face was flushed pink, especially his nose and ears. His long hair was a mess in all directions too, just like his siblings after a long day of training or riding. She sighed.

“You Starks really are a bunch of wolves.”

“You seem to like it here,” Ned said, his voice raising above a whisper, yet still gentle. It was always so gentle. “Even if it’s a strange place for a ray.”

“It is different, but I do love Winterfell. And… ” Y/N searched for her words. She was still so sleepy, and so happy and grateful. She looked at the precious pearl in her hand, the silver strands strung through it glittering in what little light there was. “And you found the little piece of ocean I brought. I can’t thank you enough for that, Ned.”

His whole face looked dangerously red, and as adorable as his next sniffle was, Y/N thought of her ill brothers and grew worried. She gently pushed at him again, directing him to the opposite end of the hall. “Go back to your room! Change out of those clothes and get some sleep!”

He finally heeded her. They traded quick good nights (or rather, good mornings) and she watched him shuffle down the hall for just a few moments before returning to the open doorway. Y/N was pleased that Lyanna hadn’t stirred at all, and was mindful of the door’s creak as she closed it.

Her steps were light and a smile was stuck on her face. She could twirl around the room and start her morning routine, but no, she really ought to get a few more hours of sleep. Y/N climbed into bed and finally released her pearl from her iron grip. It had all but one of its silver strings, but she didn’t mind at all. Y/N gave it a kiss before setting it in an overturned seashell on her bedside table. The dreams were shorter this time, but they were full of Whitetide and her family.

At breakfast, Y/N and Lyanna were only joined by Benjen and Lady Stark. She thought just Ned would be absent, but apparently the drinking competition went a little too far. Neither Lord Stark nor his oldest son were terribly victorious, and Lady Stark had plenty to say on the subject as she irritably hacked through the sausage on her plate. Y/N glanced over at Lyanna, who was stabbing innocent slices of pork.

Lyanna asked, “Mother, could I ride with Barbrey and Bethany today? They’re leaving tomorrow.”

Lady Stark considered it. She seemed weary, as she often did. “Very well, but your usual lessons will continue the day after tomorrow. Y/N, will you be riding, too?”

Lyanna looked to her expectantly, but Y/N hedged. “Um … I’m still not feeling well from yesterday…”

“You did leave the feast early.” Lyanna frowned. “I tried to wake you last night, but you were fast asleep. Are you sick?”

“I had a stomachache.” The lie came easily. Ned must have not told anyone what he was doing, which Y/N was grateful for. “It still hurts a little, I don’t think I should ride.”

“Indeed not.” Lady Stark said. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice before, sweetling. I’ll have the maester brew you a peppermint and ginger tea, that always soothes me.”

Y/N nodded, trying not to grimace at the thought of the tea. “Thank you, Lady Stark.”

Having successfully escaped a terrifying riding session, Y/N decided to spend her time in one of the private sitting rooms meant only for the Starks and certain guests. She often retreated here when Winterfell became too bustling and full of strangers, and its large window had lighting that was perfect for sketching. She sat at the windowsill, watching the servants and guards go about their business below. There were about a dozen washerwomen cleaning, all sizes of buckets around them, all sorts of children and dogs running around them. Y/N studied the scene and began to sketch.

Lady Stark and the septa were further away at the hearth, stitching and talking quietly. She had been doing this often, staying indoors by the warmth of the fire, even when there were guests to check up on and entertain. Lord Stark and Brandon did most of that now, even if they could be … not the most diplomatic.

The door opened, but Y/N was too focused on her drawing to look up. She stayed at her task until she saw someone move in her peripheral vision, someone who … sniffled.

Y/N quickly looked up. “Oh, you’re finally awake.”

Ned smiled bashfully. His nose was still a bit red, and he had obvious circles under her eyes, and Y/N felt bad all over again. She set her sketchbook aside and patted the spot next to her on the window seat. Ned hesitated for a moment, then took it.

“It’s not that late,” He said, but then he looked out the window and blinked at the sky. “Or perhaps it is.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think Brandon is still abed.”

“He’s awake, and as sour as a wet cat.” Ned grinned. “Take my advice and whisper around him today.”

Y/N smiled and put her sketchbook back in her lap. Ned glanced over her shoulder, and while people watching her draw usually made her nervous, this wasn’t so bad. She really only shared her drawings with Lyanna and Benjen, but she felt Ned would like them, too. He watched her draw the tufts of fur on the dogs, the folds of the washerwoman’s clothes as they bent over their work, and the little sudsy bubbles in the buckets. She added little details, like flowers around their feet and a cat sitting up on one of the boxes.

They sat in a peaceful, easy silence. Ned fit in with the coziness of the room, and he seemed to enjoy it. He really did look tired, and even before last night, he’d been dragged around by his father and older brother and all the guests for days. A thought occurred to Y/N.

“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?” She asked.

“I am.”

He didn’t seem happy about it, either. Y/N dated her drawing, then flipped to a new page. Several pages had been removed already, drawings she’d sent to her family to show them things she liked about Winterfell. An idea came to her, and before she could stop herself, she asked, “Could I write to you when you go back to the Eyrie?”

Ned blinked, and Y/N quickly added, “Only if I can. If you want to. Um, I write to my parents, and … sometimes I send them drawings…”

She tugged at her long sleeve and glanced away to the window.

“You would want to write to me?”

Y/N fiddled with her pencil. “I’d like to. I don’t get to see you as often, and um, the Vale is so far… I know you have the Baratheon lord, and Lord Arryn, and everyone in court, but …”

“I’d like you to — to write to me, and send whatever fancies you,” Ned said, stumbling and talking a little too quick. He hesitated again, trying to think about his words before speaking again. “The Eyrie is a great place, but I miss Winterfell.”

Y/N smiled, and now it was Ned’s turn to fiddle with his sleeve and look at the window, or his shoes, or anywhere else. Her eyes turned to the fire, where Lady Stark was staring right at her. It startled the both of them.

Lady Stark quickly caught the needle that fell from her hand. She tilted her head and raised her voice so they could hear her across the room. “What are you two plotting over there?”

“Could Y/N write to me?” “Could I write to Ned?”

They both stopped, fumbled their words, waiting for the other to speak first, but neither would budge. Lady Stark arched her eyebrows.

“Do you mean… when Ned returns to the Eyrie?” Before either could answer, Lady Stark quickly said, “Yes, yes you may! Y/N, you can draw those darling pictures you send to your parents.”

Y/N blushed from embarrassment. It felt a little silly when she said it that way, but she was glad Lady Stark agreed so easily. She looked delighted, in fact, and was much more animated than she had been recently. Ned’s cheeks were getting as red as his nose, and Y/N was glad she wasn’t the only one feeling a little embarrassed.

Y/N thought that she’d mention Lyanna could write more too, or the other two boys, as they rarely did, usually only adding a few words of encouragement to the end of Lord Stark’s letters. But she didn’t. Lady Stark instead turned to the septa, whispering something, forgetting her needlework entirely. The needle and thread fell to the floor.

There was an odd silence between Y/N and Ned now, neither of them sure of what to say. So, Y/N turned to the front of her sketchbook. “Um, do you want to see what I’ve drawn already? It’s mostly buildings and trees, but there’s some animals …”

Ned nodded, and even if he was just being polite, Y/N was glad. She felt like she’d improved quite a bit, so she started at the beginning and chatted about each piece. After several minutes, the comfort of the room returned, and it didn’t take long for them to lean against each other as Y/N turned the pages.