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serpentandlily · 7 months

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Untouchable II - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

a/n: Thank you all so much for all the love on the first part of this story! If you want to be added to the tag list, either comment or message or send me an ask :)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part II

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The minute you guys winnowed into the foyer of the River House, you were nearly tackled to the ground by your own brother. He spun you in a circle, greeting you as if you’d just come back from a war or something. You couldn’t help but giggle at his huge overreaction.

“You act like I’ve been gone for years,” you laughed.

“It felt like it,” he replied, giving you what you assumed was his best impression of a sad puppy dog—an odd sight to see on such a powerful High Lord.

He had barely set you down when you were scooped up into someone else’s arms. Luckily Cassian wasn’t as dramatic as your brother. He pulled away to hold you at arm's length, taking a sweeping glance down your body.

“You’ve lost some muscle mass and what is this you’re wearing,” he chided in a teasing, affectionate tone. “Are you even still part of the night court, y/n?”

A scoff sounded from behind the General and you peeked over his shoulder to see Azriel standing there, his arms crossed. “She’s only been gone for three months.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him and you quickly pulled your eyes away, ignoring the strain in your chest. You jokingly shoved Cassian away from you. “I’m gone for three months and the first thing you say to me is that I’ve lost muscle? Can take the boy out of Illyria but not Illyria out of the boy.”

“Damn right,” Cassian said proudly as you stepped around him, finding the rest of your family lounging about in the sitting room. “Besides, do my letters to you not count as talking?”

You rolled your eyes before giving Azriel a smile. He dipped his head in greeting, his eyes trailing over your form, but made no move to embrace you like the other two.

“You wrote letters to Cass and Rhys,” he said. “But not to me? I thought I was your favorite.”

“Rhys demanded I write to him. And Cass wrote to me first.” You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

A muscle ticked in his jaw when he met your eyes again but he said nothing else so you brushed past him, squeezing him on the shoulder as you did, determined to not let his presence squander the confidence you had built up these past months.

As soon as you stepped into the sitting room, a baby was pushed into your arms. You smiled at Feyre, pressing a kiss to her cheek in greeting and happily accepting to hold Nyx, your nephew. “It’s good to see you, y/n. Being on the continent has done you wonders. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, I’ve been immensely enjoying my time there. But I missed you too, Fey,” you replied with a wink before hoisting the baby further up in your arms to snuggle against his head. “And Gods, I missed you, little one.”

“He missed you too, you know.” You looked up at Rhys who was leaning against the back of the chair Feyre had plopped down in. “You’re the only one who knows how to make him laugh when he’s in one of his moods.”

You saw his words for what they truly were - ammunition. A way to guilt you to stay. The sad part was it kind of worked. If there was anyone you’d drop everything for, it was your nephew. “I think you guys did just fine without me.”

“Some of us did,” Amren piped up. “Others wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘What do you think y/n is doing right now?’ ‘When do you think she is going to come home?’ ‘Send me to the continent to check on y/n.’” She mocked, glaring at your brother. But then her glare shifted to the shadowsinger who gave her an unamused look. Your cheeks turned pink. Had she been including Azriel in that…

“I’m glad you’re finally spreading those wings, girl. It’s about time,” Amren continued, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Anyways,” Mor cut in. “Are you going to tell us what is so important that you dragged me and your sister back for?”

“I will, during our family dinner,” Rhys said. “We’re still waiting for Lucien.”

You couldn’t help but glance at Elain, who looked just about as uncomfortable as you did. It wasn’t that you specifically had anything against the fox. But he had been the close companion of the male who was the reason your mother was dead, the reason you had almost lost your wings and your life that fateful night. It made it hard to be around him without thinking of Tamlin, which brought back those painful memories.

Conversation turned normal after that and you tried to keep your eyes away from the shadowsinger. Instead you listened to Cassian and Nesta talk about the improvements the Valkyries had made in the three months you were gone. You promised Cass that you’d go to training with them tomorrow morning.

Lucien finally showed up and the small party was moved to the dining room. You took a seat next to Cassian and your heart nearly froze as you watched the redhead enter and make his way towards the empty chair next to you. You clenched your skirt in your fist but before he could take it, Azriel cut in front of him and claimed the chair as his.

You gave him a small, grateful smile. He nodded and you turned away as Elain sat down next to him. Great. Perfect. Now you’d have to listen to them all night. Perhaps the fox would’ve been a better choice.

Dinner was served and you poked at your food. Your proximity to the shadowsinger made your appetite minimal. You leaned your head against Cass’s shoulder, taking comfort in him. Cassian had always felt like a second big brother to you. And he treated you as such.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured to you, stacking more food on your plate. “You’ve got to eat if you’re going to come train with us tomorrow.”

Nesta rolled her eyes from next to him and you covered your grin. You were about to reply when Rhys stood. The room quieted when he cleared his throat. “Feyre and I have invited you here tonight for a reason. Would you like to do the honors, darling?” He tilted his head to her and she stood, smiling.

You couldn’t help but melt at the sight of your brother and his mate. You were so happy he finally had the life he deserved. Feyre placed her tattooed hand on her stomach and your eyes widened, a gasp escaping your mouth as you realized what this announcement was.

“I’m pregnant again,” she said, pure happiness in her voice. “With a little baby girl.”

Cheers and shouts erupted around the room but you were the first to jump up and hug Feyre. You couldn’t stop smiling as you let her go to be embraced by the others, taking your brother in your arms instead.

“Congratulations,” you whispered in his ear. “I’m so happy for you, Rhysie.”

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered back. “Another baby. In less than two years.”

You felt claws scrape against your mental shield.

We’re going to name her after mother. We’ve already discussed it.

You pulled back with shock, looking up into his eyes to make sure he was telling the truth. Tears lined his eyes as he nodded at you. A small cry broke from your lip as you hugged him again. When you finally composed yourself, you let him go so the others could have their turn with him. You stood off to the side, wiping your tears.

You were so distracted that you didn’t even notice the male who fell into place next to you. “Are you alright?”

You looked up at Azriel who was watching you with concern in those beautiful hazel eyes. You nodded, clearing your throat. “They’re going to name her after our mother. After Selene.”

Azriel’s eyes widened and then he glanced at your brother, a small smile on his lips. You know how much Azriel and Cassian had loved your mother too. Had felt the loss of her all the same. You sucked in a breath and wiped away any lingering tears.

Azriel looked back down at you, his eyes searching your face. Part of you wanted to use your daemati gifts, to take a peek inside his head, to see what he was thinking. But you would never cross that line.

“You’ve got make-up,” he said, gesturing towards your face. “Here.”

You went to wipe it but he grabbed your hand. “Let me.”

He conjured a cloth napkin in his hand and gripped your chin with his other gloved hand, tilting your face up at him. Your eyes widened at his touch and you froze in place, your breath caught in your throat. He dapped at a spot on your check, just below your eye.

You hated the effect he had on you. How his scent wrapped around you, his mere presence clouding your mind. Hated how you wished to step closer to him. This wasn’t the first time he had done something as intimate as this with you but those moments were far and few between.

He was surprisingly gentle as he wiped at your face, his hand never leaving your chin even as his other fell back to his side. He stared down at you with an indiscernible emotion and your eyes bounced between his. Part of you wished this small moment would never end. But wishing and praying had never done you any good and the moment was over before you knew it.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Elain had made her way over to you and Azriel dropped his grip on you like your skin had burned him. You swallowed harshly, looking at the girl who had captured his heart in the short time she had been here.

“I’m okay, Elain,” you replied with a little dip of your head. “Just a bit emotional is all.”

She smiled at you and you wished more than anything that you could hate her. But you couldn’t. She had only ever been sweet to you. Only ever wanted to be your friend. “I can’t believe we’re about to have another baby around here. You’ll have to help me set up the nursery for Feyre again, y/n!”

“Of course!”

Elain’s hand rested on Azriel’s bicep and the sight made the dinner you had just eaten churn in your stomach. You needed to get away from them. It hadn’t been long enough. You hadn’t been away long enough to get rid of these stupid feelings. You glanced back at Azriel to find him still looking at you. You mustered up the will to give them a parting smile before dipping away.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Feyre and Rhysand had called it a night after some time celebrating but Mor had declared the night wasn’t over. At least not for you two. You hadn’t hesitated to agree to go to Rita’s—ready to let loose after having to deal with the heartache of being near Azriel and Elain.

Cassian and Nesta decided to come as well. And then to everyone’s surprise, Azriel had also said he’d come which made Elain shyly say she’d come as well. Just when you’d thought you’d have a moment of relief, the Mother had decided to spite you again. Perhaps she was just trying to drill home the point that Azriel would never be yours.

Mor passed you another shot glass and you chugged it before even asking what was in it. All you knew was you wanted to be drunk—and fast. You were squeezed between Nesta and Mor in the large booth your group occupied.

Your eyes flicked to the other side of the table. Azriel and Elain sat there, both sipping on their drinks. Neither of them looked comfortable and you wondered why they even bothered to come.

“I wanna dance,” you slurred, pouting at Mor. You shoved at your cousin to let you out of the booth and she chuckled, moving out of the way.

“Take Mor with you, sweetheart.”

Nesta elbowed Cassian in his side. “She’s not a little girl, Cass.”

“She’s fine on her own,” Mor bit, backing up Nesta. “Besides, we can still see her from here.”

You missed the disapproving glare Azriel threw at Mor who rolled her eyes at him. The alcohol had finally taken effect, making you feel carefree. You let the music take over as you pushed your way into the dancing crowd.

For once you basked in the attention you were receiving and when you felt large hands wrap around your waist from behind, you didn’t falter like you might’ve before. You glanced up to see a high fae male smirking down at you. He was handsome with brown eyes and shaggy blonde hair.

You gave him your family’s signature feline grin and decided to just go with it—anything to get the shadowsinger out of your mind.

“Don’t,” Mor growled at Azriel as he went to stand up, his eyes locked on you and the male. Cassian watched with an annoyed frown. “Let her have fun. She knows how to handle herself.”

You were oblivious to the two disgruntled bats at the table though. A few more songs passed before the male grabbed your hand and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Come. Let me buy you a drink.”

You smiled and let him drag you to the bar. His hand slid to your lower back as you watched him place an order for both of you. He turned to hand you the drink the bartender made and his eyes widened as he looked at something over your shoulder.

Your brows furrowed until that familiar scent hit you.

“Leave us,” Azriel growled at him from behind you.

The male glanced between the two of you. “Sorry, I didn’t know she was here with someone.”

“I’m not here with him.” You crossed your arms, annoyed. The male’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement, looking back at Azriel.

“Well, it seems like the lady doesn’t want you here, pal,” he said. “So why don’t you leave us?”

A sliver of fear crossed his eyes as Azriel took a step forward, his hard chest pressing into your back. “Get lost,” he snarled, his voice pure ice. “Now.”

Your mouth dropped open as the male scurried off this time, evidently not wanting a confrontation with the shadowsinger. You whirled around to see Azriel glaring down at you. You pushed him away with a hand to his chest.

“What is your problem?!”

“My problem?” he snapped back at you. “That male was clearly going to take advantage of you. You should be thanking me for scaring him off.”

“Why the hell should I thank you! He wasn’t taking advantage of me. I wanted to be with that guy.”

“And he probably just wanted to use you to get close to Rhys for power or money—who knows.”

You felt a dagger pierce your heart at his words, at his unflinching cold stare. “Right. Because no one would ever want me for anything else. No one might ever just be interested in me and not my connection to Rhys.”

“Oh don’t be naive, y/n,” Azriel said, coldly. Your mouth dropped open, tears started building in your eyes at his cruelty. But then anger finally started to rise, overpowering the hurt.

“Just because you don’t desire me like that, doesn’t mean other males don’t as well! I am not a child anymore, Azriel. I know exactly what males want from me and I also know what I want from them. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

You chugged the drink in your hand before slamming the glass on the counter.

“Y/n, that’s not what I—”

You turned away, not wanting to hear anything else he said. You couldn’t bear anymore hurt. All you wanted to do was go somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn't so you could unleash the tears stinging your eyes.

His cold hand grabbed your wrist and whirled you back around. “This conversation isn’t over,” he bit out but you shrugged yourself out of his grip.

“Yes it is,” you ground out through your teeth. “In fact, instead of sticking your nose in my business, why don’t you worry about your girlfriend’s.”

“My what—”

Azriel turned his head to follow your line of sight back to the booth you had all been sitting at before. Elain sat there alone, Mor likely dancing and Nesta and Cassian probably off making out somewhere. Some guy was leaning against the table talking to Elain, who looked incredibly uncomfortable.

You didn’t wait to hear Azriel’s response, using the distraction to storm off and disappear in the crowd—your first night had officially been ruined.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The last place you wanted to be today was the House of Wind, but you had promised Cassian and Nesta you’d show up for Valkyrie training and you knew one of them would come looking for you if you hadn’t. You could feel Azriel’s eyes on you from across the training ring but ignored him, keeping your focus on Cass.

“Alright,” Cass said, clapping his hands together. He had just led you guys through a series of exercises and you could already feel some sweat dripping down your back. “Let’s move on to sparring. Pair up and get started. Y/n, you’re with me today! Got to get you back up to speed.”

You made your way to Cassian but were intercepted by Azriel stepping in between you two. “I’ll take over her training. The new girls need more help.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow at him but shrugged and walked off, leaving you alone with the shadowsinger. You clenched your fists, not at all happy with having to work with Azriel today when you wanted to avoid him. You were still upset with the way he talked to you last night.

“Come,” he barked, not even looking at you. “We’ll take the back corner.”

He strode off without even making sure you were following. You let out a puff of air. Great, he was in that sort of mood.

As soon as you were within range, he tossed you a training sword. You barely caught it, taken off guard.

“Let’s see how much you’ve regressed while galavanting on the continent.” His tone was cold, clearly as upset with you as you were with him. Before you could even get into a starting position, he came at you. You let out a startled noise, blocking his attack.

You narrowed your eyes at him. Fine, if this was how he wanted to play, you weren’t going to be the one to back down.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You could barely catch your breath, evading another one of his attacks. Class had already wrapped up, most Priestesses packing up their things to go back to the library. But Azriel hadn’t let up one bit.

“Class is over, Az,” you panted, side stepping another attack. “Can we stop?”

“Class is over when I say it is,” he growled at you. He lifted his sword above his head and came down with an overhead attack. You had to roll out of the way to avoid it.

“What’s gotten into you?” You snapped, putting some distance between you and him, trying to steady yourself. Azriel had never treated you like this before.

“You’re the one who declared you’re not a child anymore last night,” he snapped back at you. “So I’m not treating you like one. Suck it up, princess, and either disarm me or surrender.”

You gritted your teeth together, annoyed that he was acting like such a prick. Why the hell was he so upset with you? You had done nothing to him.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Shut up and fight me,” he growled. “Or surrender and go back to being coddled by your brother like always.”

Fury sparked a fire in your gut. Since when did you ever ask to be coddled by Rhys? He had been the one that was overprotective, to the point of being paranoid. All you ever did was try to be the person your brother expected you to be, to not have him worry over you. You attacked him this time but he was quick to parry. You felt frustrated tears start to build in your eyes.

“Oh don’t start crying now,” Azriel snarled. “You asked for this.”

“I never asked for anything from you!” You could hardly keep your sword in your hand, your body shaking from the anger you felt.

“Because your brother caters to your every need.” He spat out the word brother like it was a curse and that only fueled the fire building in you. “He gives you everything you want, takes care of you, and still you decide to go run off to the continent, causing him to constantly worry about you.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped. “And keep my brother out of this. You know nothing about our relationship!”

He maneuvered behind you, using his free arm to wrap around your neck and pull you flush against his body. You were both panting, both sweating. You could faintly hear Cassian yelling at you guys to stop but you ignored him, too lost in your own anger.

Azriel leaned down, his breath dancing against your ear. “I know you’re just a burden to him. Just another responsibility that fell on his shoulders.”

The breath was expelled from your lungs, your stomach twisted into a knot. A burden? Is that how Rhys truly saw you? Just something he was being forced to take care of?

You elbowed Azriel in the stomach and kicked him in the chest away from you. He slid to a stop in the sand but then came back twice as hard. You tried to evade, tried to parry his attacks, but it was no use. You were not close to being the warrior Azriel was.

A knock to your wrist had your sword flying from you hand and you fell on your backside, scooting away from him. He didn’t seem to notice he had unarmed you and raised his sword to slash at you again. You let out a whimper of fear and lifted your hands up to block your face.

The sword sliced down the middle of your palm and you let out a pained cry. Azriel immediately froze, towering over your much smaller form on the ground. His eyes widened, the sword slipped out of his hand and suddenly Cassian was in between you two, his wings flaring out to block you as he shoved Azriel in the chest—hard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cassian screamed at him. He shoved him again but Azriel paid him no mind, his eyes stuck on you still sitting on the floor, now cradling your hand to your chest as blood dripped down your skin.

“Y/n…” Your name came from his lips, pure anguish in his voice as he stared at you in horror, as if now realizing he had gone way too far. You scrambled to your feet, fighting to rein in your tears.

Azriel stepped towards you but Cassian grabbed him by the shoulder roughly. “No, leave her alone. Why don’t you tell me what the hell that was?!”

Nesta was glancing between you and Azriel in shock and when she started to make her way towards you, you magick your wings, unfurled them, and took off into the sky as agony ripped through you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You had hoped to make it to your bedroom before running into anyone, but as per usual, the Mother decided to spite you. You nearly crashed into Rhys as you hurried down the hall. He caught you by your shoulders, his nostrils flaring as he smelt blood, before he looked down at you in surprise.

"Are you okay?" he asked before taking in the tears still pouring down your face. "Y/n, what happened? Why are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," you mumbled, trying to skirt around him but he yanked you into his office.

"It's not nothing," he said through clenched teeth, "You're bleeding and crying. Who hurt you?"

"It was just an accident during training this morning. I'm fine."

"Dove, please, I've seen you hurt worse than this and you never shed a tear then," he said, stroking your hair. "What happened?"

You couldn't hold it in anymore, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. "Am...am I a b-burden to you?"

"What?" he gasped in surprise. "Where did you get that idea?"

You shook your head, sniffling. Rhys sighed and pulled you into a hug. "Dove, you are not a burden to me. I don't know why you'd ever think that. I love you so much, too much perhaps. If anything, I'm the one who's burdened you with my incessant worrying."

You wished you felt relief but it just made you cry even more. Your brother continued to stroke your hair, holding you close. "Who caused you to think that?"

"No one," you mumbled into his chest. "It's nothing. I just thought—I don't know."

Rhys pulled back to hold you at arm's length. You tried to avoid eye contact with him but he gripped your chin and forced you to look up at him. Anger was swirling in his eyes. "Tell me who hurt you. Tell me who caused this."

You shook your head, not wanting to cause a fight between your brother and Azriel. His eyes glazed over for a second and you knew he was communicating with someone in his head. You felt yourself tense up. When his focus came back to you, that anger had grown into rage. You knew he had probably asked Cassian what happened at training and you cursed at the General for snitching.

He stepped around you and stalked towards the door just as Feyre entered his office. She gasped in surprise as she caught sight of the two of you. "Gods, what happened?"

Rhys brushed past her. "Stay here with her."

Feyre's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "Rhys, what's going on? Where are you going?"

He glanced at her over her shoulder, his teeth bared in a snarl. "I'm going to go kick Azriel's ass."

And then he disappeared in a swirl of darkness.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tag List: @kalulakunundrum @going-through-shit @thelov3lybookworm @tinystarfishgalaxy @cat-or-kitten @abysshaven @vhjlucky13 @polli05927 @nightcourtwritings @wicked-mind @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #shadowsinger x reader #angst #azriel fic

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jkslipppiercing · 17 days

Text

Never Been A Friend | Part 2 | Jeon Jk

♧ synopsis: Sneaky glances across the room weighed with a dozen different meanings left to be unsaid; confusion desire, lust. He was never a friend, was he?

♧ pairing: brother's bsf!jk, bratty!reader.

♧ warnings: jungkook is so pussy whipped it's hilarious, he's kinda in denial, masturbation but at the end, y/n is drunk, jungkook taking care of drunk y/n, jungkook curses like every other sentence, this is jk pov btw!!, kinda fluffy but really really cute, he loves her eyes, and i forgot what else, EXPLICIT CONTENT!!

♧ WC: 3.1k

a/n: hiiiii sweethearts! ive missed you guys so much 💕💕 make sure to read part 1 before reading this if you havent 🥹🥹 hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think!

Part 1

index

taglist

“y/n?” I shake her shoulder softly, attempting to nudge her awake. “wake up.”

When she mumbles something unintelligible and trails off to sleep, I exhale a soft sigh and hop out of my car after pocketing my phone and keys.

I'm fucked.

Utterly fucked.

The ride to her brother and I's dorm had been one of silence. Other than a few grumbles and whines from y/n when I seated her in the passenger seat next to me, she spent the ride peacefully sleeping. Unaware.

So unaware that I had to reach over and tug the hem of her dress down each time it hiked up her thighs. Her bare thighs. Her full, smooth, silky thighs.

Fuck, man.

She makes my blood boil.

I’m still not over the fact that she was left alone and oblivious before her brother had called me. How long had it been?

What if I hadn't picked up?

What if something happened to her?

Am I exaggerating? Maybe.

Does that lessen my anger? Fuck no.

No, because how the fuck can a brother be so nonchalant about leaving his sister alone while drunk? All for a quick fuck?

He's never gonna hear the end of it. I’ll make damn sure of that, but for now, I have to get this drunk-out-of-her-mind girl up to my apartment dorm.

I had tried asking her for her address multiple times, but all in vain, of course.

I didn’t even know she was in town.

Thought she had stayed with her parents in her home town- which her brother had mentioned only twice, maybe even three times- after graduating high school. He brought it up in conversation once but never justified why.

I mean, sure, not everyone wants to go to college and that’s fine, but why hadn't she?

Was she more of a liberal person?

Did she figure out her future already?

Why do I care?

I shake my head as I round the front of the car to get to her side. Her head falls when I open her door, and I instinctively catch with my hand, hoisting her up so she’s in a properly seated position with her head on the headrest.

God, I can already feel the headache approaching.

Taking her seatbelt off, I pat her cheek to wake her.

“y/n.”

No response.

“Y/n, come on.”

I pat her cheek again.

Nothing.

Oh well.

Placing one arm under her knees and another under her middle, I carefully slide her out of the seat and carry her into my arms. Her breath tickles my neck as her head rests on my shoulder, her nose nudging my pulse.

Which skyrockets.

Fuck, that felt good.

But I don’t know how to feel about that, because:

1. This is y/n we’re talking about.

2. A little nudge to the throat has me weak at the knees?

3. Toughen up, dickwad.

She huffs as she adjusts her head and pulls her arms around my neck for support, nuzzling my neck farther before mumbling something that sounded like, “mmm, warm…”

Her head is nestled to the crook of my throat and her breath sends a shiver down my spine.

The fact that I have to catch the moan in my throat has my cheeks grow an embarrassing shade of pink.

Clearing my throat awkwardly- which causes y/n to groan at the disturbance- I try my best not to disturb this brat’s beauty sleep as I walk up to the apartment building.

Wait…something’s not right.

I stop my stride short to try and point out the prickling feeling-

This brat’s dress is so short it might be flashing her ass by the way I’m carrying her.

Jesus Christ, give me strength.

○○○

Wincing at the loud creak of the door announcing my arrival, I nudge the door closed with my foot as I step into my apartment.

A shared apartment.

An apartment I share with the almost passed out drunk girl im carrying in my arms’ brother.

Yeah, shit.

Never in a million years would I have ever imagined this shit happening.

It’s not that big of a deal, except I cant really help the intrigue that accompanies the thought that comes with y/n.

Why did she scowl at me the first time she met me? Had I done anything to cause her to show such an awful bad impression?

I must admit, I never stopped thinking about her.

Not in a stalker way of thinking. I didn’t think about her in an obsessive type of way…not at all.

I guess I could say it was just…weird.

I never understood.

I was just interested.

Interested in the way her hips move on the dance floor.

Interested in the way she acts like a brat whenever she feels like it.

Hell, I'm interested in the way she flips me off whenever we cross paths for the fun of pissing me off.

Yes, she gets on my nerves; but she was never worth throwing a fuss over.

I barely saw her once every two months, if we’re being honest. The college her brother and I go to being almost three hours away from where they lived, it was a long trip.

But the way I felt about this girl puzzled me way more than I’d ever appreciate, especially since I knew nothing about her.

Nothing. Nada.

Where she goes to college, where she spends her time living, what she does on a daily basis…

No clue.

Then…what the fuck is she doing here?

A pained groan from the girl driving me insane pulls me back from my raging confusion.

She clings to me harder like a baby koala as she mumbled something incoherent under her breath, snuggling into the crook of my neck into what seems like her favorite habit tonight.

That one motion has become my weakness in a matter of minutes.

All because of her.

She does it again, this time connecting her nose with a spot right under my jaw. Her lips just shy of the skin on my throat, she groans in what seems like satisfaction.

My knees almost fucking buckle.

I try to focus on any sound in the apartment, relieved when I'm met with silence.

With a resigned sigh, I make my way to my bedroom.

Keeping my footsteps quick and light, I shift my door open with my shoulder-

Fuck!

I cant help the grimace that makes its way to my face.

It fucking reeks in here.

Of sex. Right. I was having sex.

The second relief of tonight washes over me when I find my bed empty, the sheets rumpled and messed up on top.

I should probably make a call to apologize to the fuck buddy previously occupying my bed, but I got better things to do.

A particular brat to take care of.

God, she cant sleep in here when it smells like this.

Making a detour, I go for the couch, setting y/n lightly on her ass. Her hands tighten around my neck in protest, which causes my neck to crane down awkwardly, but it still makes me chuckle when she frowns up at me through her blood shot eyes.

Fucking adorable, that is.

How her lashes prettily frame those sad eyes.

Sad eyes I was always unable to forget.

Those sad eyes. My demise.

Fuck me.

I untangle her arms from around my neck, adjusting the pillows thrown messily around the couch to create a cozy , temporary cocoon.

Picking her up swiftly, I lay her down on her side and brush a stray hair away from her face. Her soft, soft, soft features peer up at me as she struggles to keep those pretty eyes open.

“You’re smiling.” The cutest little slur laces up with her words and I just cant fight the flutter in my chest.

What the fuck?

It’s then I realize how hard I’m smiling.

“I’m not.” Too rough. Too scratchy. Too fucking vulnerable.

She’s not even touching you, fucker, and here you are. All hot and bothered.

Shut up.

She giggles, the sound reverberating as the most adorable drunken giggle I’ve ever witnessed.

It pains me how oblivious she is.

Her dress hikes up her thighs, almost baring her ass to me, and in other cases I would’ve been turned on.

But now? My blood fucking boils.

I should’ve killed that fucker while I could.

I’d taken care of drunk girls before, most of them being my friends.

I’m the boring ass in the friend group that always stays sober to take care of the others. The others that get so drunk and messed up that I have to take them up to their apartment and put them to bed because of how out of their mind they become.

I’ve never thought much of it.

Never cared, really.

But this girl?

Goddamn it.

One second she infuriates the hell out of me; she’s stubborn, hot headed, and just reckless.

Irresponsible.

Then the other I’m smiling like a dork in love.

She’s not even my type for fucks sake.

But then again, this is the first time I’ve seen her like this.

So vulnerable, with her guard down. I tug her dress to cover her ass with barely restrained madness.

She reaches up to touch my face with what seems like the utmost amount of effort from her to make any movement.

“pretty.” As she touches my face with light fingertips and pink cheeks.

Crumble. I almost crumble.

“Yeah?” I don’t know what’s gotten into me when I push away another rogue hair strand as she giggles again.

“mhm.” A little hum of contentment before she drops her hand and flutters those eyes closed.

Softly, softly, softly.

With a step back and a tired sigh, I cover her up with a blanket as I tuck her in and make sure she’s comfortable.

I make pretty quick work with taking my bedsheets off, with utmost effort not to grimace every time I get a slight whiff.

It’s not that bad…it’s just…weird.

Really weird.

Whenever I picture y/n in my bed, every single fantasy that clouds my mind is inappropriate.

But tucking a girl in a bed that was previously used by another girl just hours before? Not to mention, a naked one?

That’s a douche move.

And I never thought of myself lowly or in any way to appear humble. But im also not a fucking asshole.

Im arrogant? So what?

Im confident. I plead guilty.

Cocky? Whatever floats your boat.

I tug at my sanity that hangs by a dwindled thread. My thoughts race back to a dreamy gaze and soft eyes. Adorable frowns and drunken giggles.

if it was as easy as bottling them up in a pitcher so I could drink her in every once in a while, I would’ve done it a while ago.

If I could, I would.

My mind was so caught up with her that I didn’t even notice how fast I’d changed the sheets.

I’d cracked the window open for a little ventilation and fetched an air freshener, which made the room smell decent. Better than decent.

A quick change of clothes and bedsheets later, Im carrying y/n from the couch to my room.

I lay her on the bed and nudge her awake.

“y/n?” a tap to the cheek.

Thankfully, she stirs awake. The drunken haze a little lesser than before, but nevertheless still there. Her eyes peer up at me, droopy with exhaustion.

I clear my throat awkwardly under her gaze, switching my weight from one foot to another.

“you need to change.”

Her eyebrows scrunch up in confusion as she tilts her head.

“your dress looks uncomfortable to sleep in.”

Excuses.

“left you one of my Tee’s so you could change.” I turn around and head for the door, giving her much needed privacy. “you have five minutes. Change.”

And with that, im out of the room closing the door behind me.

I lean back on the door and take my phone out of the sweats I put on earlier, purely for the decency of y/n being here.

I usually walk around in my boxers as well as sleep in them, but it’s too early to traumatize the girl.

Not even past unlocking my phone, y/n’s voice reaches my ear from behind me as she yells my name.

I knock, unsure if I should come in, but enter when I hear her confirmation.

Peaking my head into the small opening I’ve made through the door, my eyes land on y/n with her facing me.

Her eyebrows are pulled together in concentration as her hands are both reached behind her back, apparently struggling with something.

Her heels are off and her hair is messy from her running her hands through it, her mascara smudged and her lipstick almost completely wiped off.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier sight.

Her lips pull forward in a slight pout, and she turns around to grace me with a view of her halfway bare back.

She tugs harder at the zipper, only getting it stuck farther.

“help?” she asks in a tiny voice, looking above her shoulder with a helpless look.

Noting how long I’ve been standing in place, frozen and doing nothing, I clear my throat as I shuffle my feet towards her.

“oh, um, yeah.” Staggering for words was never my thing. Rubbing my neck was never my nervous tick.

Except…y/n was never my thing, either.

Her beautifully messy hair cascades down her back, and I bundle it up with a hand and rest it over one of her shoulders. My fingertips lightly touch hers and the distraction that accompanies the shiver rolling through her body at the contact clouds my focus. Her hands fall to be replaced with mine at the zipper, and I tug gently.

It doesn’t budge.

Okay, it’s stuck.

Obviously, genius.

When my knuckles graze her skin as I try to get a better grip on the zipper, she shivers again, a soft sigh leaving her lips.

Pretty baby’s a sensitive drunk.

A giggly, bubbly, and hella oblivious drunk.

Focus.

I pinch the frayed open sides above the zipper with one hand and tug it with the other, a concentrated rumble of my chest unconsciously making an appearance.

I’ve apparently shifted closer to y/n in the process, and I just now realize that I might’ve groaned in her ear.

When I successfully slide the zipper down just above the curve of her ass, y/n turns around with a grace I don't miss even as my undying lust for the feel of her skin remains unwavering.

“thank you.” Sounds barely audible from how breathless she sounds, and fuck, when she bites her lip, I want to punch myself.

Those lips.

Those eyes.

My cock restrains, stiffening at the images attacking my mind with her lips around it.

A gust of wind blows through the curtains, thrashing y/n’s hair in all different directions.

I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, knowing damn well I have no business touching this girl.

This girl that stands almost naked and drunk in the moonlit darkness of my room.

Her softness bothers me.

Her innocence a loud cry for corruption.

She reaches up to undo the strands of her dress, and the realization that she must’ve seen something in my eyes snaps me back into reality.

I was always told how much my eyes could tell.

And judging by my earlier thoughts, she must’ve seen it.

The darkness.

The lust.

She starts to slip her dress down, down, down, and my mind is nowhere to be found.

My cock hardens at the thought of her naked, submission written all over her.

But this is wrong.

So wrong.

Even as I step closer to her and bind my forehead with hers, my mind goes in all different directions.

Fuck her.

Shut up.

“Y/n.” a raspy attempt at a plead. “you’re drunk.”

She closes her eyes. “I want this.”

Fuck me sideways.

I know for a fact she doesn't.

I'm not stupid.

Even as my forehead stays pressed to hers, I don’t miss the tangy scent of tequila on her breath. Faint, but there.

I haven’t forgotten how red her eyes still are.

How dry her lips are from all the alcohol.

The pink tint of her neck and cheeks.

Alcohol is flowing more than freely in her system, and I know for a fact she also wont remember a thing.

“you don’t.”

So I do something stupid.

Something I know I'll regret by tomorrow.

I stop her hand that’s tugging her dress down and cage it between both of our bodies. I place my other on her neck, long fingers eating up the space beneath her jaw as my thumb rests on her cheek.

I stroke it once, twice, three times.

And I kiss her.

A small, feather-light peck on her swollen lips.

It's not needy, nor is it hungry for anything more.

It's something I crave to keep me sane, at least for the next few hours.

Because this girl?

This girl is a deadly thing that will destroy me.

She’ll destroy me before I ever get the chance to ruin her.

And the bad thing is?

Even as I pull away,

Even as I shove my tee shirt into her hands and bolt out of the room after telling her to sleep,

Realizing the fact that I didn’t regret it scares me.

Even as I grab a towel, strip bare, and lock myself in the bathroom,

I think about her.

The freezing water does little to calm the white hot lust in my veins, and my stiffened cock stands true to that statement.

I wrap my fist around my dick, and I dare to fucking think about her.

I think about her on her knees, mouth open.

I think about her on my bed, laying on her back with her legs open.

I think about her on top of me.

I close my eyes and I fucking think about those lips, those eyes, that dreamy gaze.

Her soft sighs.

How she’d kiss me.

Would she gasp into my mouth?

Cry into my pillow if I pounded her pussy from behind?

Would she beg?

She’d be my little slut.

My pretty baby.

I cum the hardest I ever have, a guttural grunt and an explicit “fuck.” into the walls of my bathroom. Alone in a goddamn shower, when im fisting my cock and thinking about someone.

No, not someone.

Fucking y/n of all people.

And guess the fuck what?

I want to kiss her again.

how was your day today 😇

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uglypastels · 15 days

Text

Ridlington Park | I | Eddie Munson regency!au

Author's Note: It has been a long, long time, but I am back with another obnoxious AU. I hope you enjoy as we embark on this new adventure in Regency England. This story has been in the works for almost 2 years and is still far from finished, but I am having too much fun with this and have way too many ideas on where to take it, so suggestions are very much appreciated.

Word Count: 10k

Do be warned, Dear Reader, for this story in its entirety may contain:

female!reader. slow burn. forbidden romance. jealousy. pining. smut. alcohol consumption. swearing. OC family. horses. talks of arranged marriage. historical facts as well as trivial inaccuracies.

Due to the adult nature of the story, this author also kindly but sternly requires underage readers to pursue other works.

Author's Previous Works | Correspondence | Join the Taglist

Chapter One: A Game of Perseverance

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them.”

– Jane Austen, Letter to her sister Cassandra, 1798

Three stories high, full of balconied windows, the house stood tall and overlooked the entire street. Ridlington Park, they called it, and situated at the centre of life–that is, London–the front door of the building was enveloped in flowers matching the seasons all year long. Currently, it was bright peonies that caught the onlooker’s eye. The perfectly trimmed bushes and trees were planted symmetrically, leading up to the front doors, giving visitors the right impression of what they could await once they stepped inside.

The residing family had spent a good fortune and effort ensuring the house represented them perfectly: clean, fortunate, and grand, but all done so in the utmost respectable and modest fashion as they were never the ones to boast. The walls had a light, warm tone reminiscent of early mornings in Spring, and the interior was decorated with portraits, new and old, beautiful oil sceneries of lands near and far, and busts and vases.

The evening was slowly approaching, the sun setting over the windows of the drawing room, enwrapping everything in a golden glow. The family sat silently around the room, giving each other the peace and quiet required for an uneventful afternoon followed by a slow night of fortunate sleep. The only sound appreciated was the pianoforte siding against the window, gracefully played by Mother. Four children sat around the separate corners of their world, enjoying the music while focusing on their own activities. Like most nights, these consisted of either reading or needlework, engaging in small conversations with one another occasionally.

As typical as any evening at Ridlington Park, it was highly unusual for the rest of London– a city which runs on scandals and gossip. Outside, the streets were bustling with lords and ladies of the Ton making their way back home from the markets, gardens and their fellows’ tea parties, gossiping about the latest impropriety to have occurred. After all, such topics, no more than nonsense really, were simply inescapable. And no matter how hard they tried to ignore it all, one way or another, it would always find its way up to the Byrnwick family. Most of the time, you, Gentle Reader, could hold yourself accountable for introducing the rumours proudly, much to your brother’s annoyance, who did his best to turn the pages of his novel as loud as possible as you talked with your mother from across the room.

‘Have you heard what happened at Lady Faulkner’s ball?’

‘Yes, sordid, really.’ Your mother sighed, turning around. ‘I am sure her family is in quite the uproar.’

‘Please,’ Christopher, your brother, shut his book down in frustration, clearly incapable of making any progress amidst the conversation. ‘If she had not wanted to get caught, she should have maybe ought to think twice about being out with a man in the middle of the gardens for everyone to see.’

You glared up at him. ‘Well, it is absurd that a woman cannot even stand in a public space with a man without bringing disgrace onto her entire family.’

‘Believe me; she did much more than just standing.’ Christopher scoffed, quickly receiving a cold stare from your mother.

‘Still, it is unjust.’ You ignored his insinuations. ‘Think of how men are free to go out at any time of day or night with whomever they please.’ You stabbed your needle through the cloth a bit harsher than intended.

‘My, you sure seem to be giving all this much thought. Have you any plans we should know about, sister?’ Your brother smirked.

‘Christopher!’ Your mother scowled. ‘That is quite enough.’

‘I was only joking, Mother,’ Christopher sighed, ‘we all know she is not going anywhere anytime soon.’

You were ready to retort angrily, or at least throw your needle at him, when the doors to the drawing room opened, catching everyone’s attention by storm. Five pairs of identical eyes directly aimed at the door frame, only softening when recognising the intruders. A welcoming of surprised gasps greeted the Lord and his eldest, Nicholas, as they entered the room. Not one foot in the room, and all activities were being put to a halt as the rest of the family gathered around the men—a loving reunion after a months-long journey from the Americas.

It was a surprising return, for father and son had yet to write of their plans in recent times. The last letter was received at Ridlington Park over three weeks ago, stating that the weather was amiable, if not a bit too humid, and that the family missed each other deeply. The lack of correspondence, therefore, was also an immediate subject.

‘But why did you not write, dear?’ asked Mother, after embracing her son. Nicholas was too occupied by his youngest sibling to answer; airways tightened in the arms of his 11-year-old sister, Marjorie. His father responded instead:

‘How could we write at sea, my love? The message would not have gotten here any faster than we did,’ the lord chuckled to his wife. He was correct, too, of course. His eyes seemed to surpass the gaze of his present family members in search of the one missing piece. ‘Where is Annabelle? I thought she would be home by now.’

‘She is home, with her husband,’ you explained carefully. Your father blinked slowly, coming to terms with this fact he had tried to avoid for so long. Annabelle had married last season and was very well off, to a Duke, no less, but it was still a big adjustment for the family seeing her gone and out of the house. Even with her frequent visits, it was strange to have one head less at the dinner table; one less chair occupied each evening, one less song played on the pianoforte.

‘Ah, well then,’ Father cleared his throat, ‘then we are complete.’ He looked at his wife and five children. One day, there would be even fewer of them. They will all be leaving the nest one by one. For some, marriage was long overdue, and as a man of high society, he could not wish his children a suitor or a lady soon enough, but as a father, he dreaded the day that the following proposals would take place.

Marjorie, becoming impatient and not as sentimental about her family’s reunion, tugged at Nicholas’ sleeve. ‘Come, you must tell us everything about your journey!’ She kept pulling until the eldest brother had no choice but to follow her and sit on the couch. Soon, everyone else joined on the chaises.

‘I am afraid there is very little to tell,’ Nicholas said, taking a chocolate biscuit off the tray beside the sofa. ‘It was all rather dull.’

‘Do not be ridiculous, brother,’ Fitzwilliam, the second-youngest and still hungry for adventure and the world outside of the Ton, looked at his older brother with high expectations. ‘I do not believe you and Father had been gone this long and did not experience anything worthy of a tale.’

You listened on as your siblings bickered, arguing over the value of a story, and its worth of being told and heard. Finally, after listening to it for about a quarter of an hour, you had to agree with Nicholas; it was all rather dull. No wonder neither he nor father did not bother to mention anything but the weather in their correspondence. Their days quickly grew into a pattern one is used to in travel and business. A pattern you might have understood if you cared to pay attention.

This attention only returned to the room when you heard your name being spoken. The conversation had shifted from the events that had been missed overseas to the town's happenings. Just as dull and irrelevant, some might say, the most interesting thus far was the staff changes at the house, and even these held very little consequence to you, but to this, some may disagree wholeheartedly.

‘So, the season has begun, has it not, sister?’ Nicholas asked.

‘Some weeks ago, yes.’ You did your best pretending not to feel an effect from this, occupying yourself with your needlework that was turning out far below the usual standard. ‘But do not worry; you have not missed much. In fact, I think things will finally begin to get a bit interesting with you back home.’ Nicholas had always had a taste for dramatics and had been known for having a very… loving nature. In the past years, you must have witnessed him falling in love at least a dozen times, preparing a proposal to half of these women, going through with it twice now, with one nearly making it to the alter if not for the bride getting caught in quite a compromising position with a footman.

For the next few weeks, Nicholas was known as the heartbroken gentleman, and you would have felt bad for him… if it was not for the fact that women from all over town came around to console him, day after day, of course not knowing that when his bride-to-be had been making arrangements with other men, your brother had been too busy charming ladies himself. It took a month for him to proclaim his love to another woman again.

‘I do not know what you mean,’ Nicholas deflected your comment, quickly looking over to your mother and second oldest brother, Christopher, ‘any fitting suitors I should be aware of?’ As the eldest brother, Nicholas made it his duty to ensure his sisters found good husbands. That meant status and wealth but, above anything else, a good and genteel nature. You remembered how picky he was when Annabelle had been searching for a husband, even more so than your parents. Still, it was something you appreciated about your brother. His protectiveness showed the little heart he still held for you and the rest of your family, as much as he tried to hide it away.

Your mother bit her cheek, holding in the many thoughts and opinions she must have kept for herself. So did Christopher, who shared a very knowledgeable look of many words with Nicholas, one he understood clearly but you could not decipher just yet. However, you assumed the general message had been sent and received.

‘If you had seen the choices, brother, you would understand my predicament and situation all too well, believe me.’ Pretending to seem unbothered by the encrypted messages being sent around the room, you preoccupied yourself once more with the needlework.

‘I believe it is what you believe, sister,’ Nicholas turned back to your mother, ‘do you have a list of names? I shall go through them in the morning, see if it really is as bad as we are being told.’

You had wanted to reply, most likely in a dishonourable way, but you held your tongue and fell back in your seat, letting the rest of your family plan out the rest of your life, just like they had always done.

Unbelievable, Nicholas was home for all of five minutes, and he was already making lists. And knowing him, which you would like to think you did, it was merely a formality for your sake. He would already have a dozen names at the top of his head, ready to send out invitations to men for an audience with you.

Therefore, you were not surprised when, only a few days later, at the breakfast table, Nicholas told you about all the guests Ridlngton Park would soon be welcoming.

‘There is Mr Elton, and Mr Brookes will be coming over for tea; I also heard Lord Frankworth is interested in a visit, so is Mr Campbell, and—’ he kept on giving you names, with all of them entering one ear and immediately leaving through your other. You could not care less who wanted to see you, not after spending the last month trying your hardest to escape all of their attempts at promenading, lunching, and chatting of sheer nonsense.

‘I must ask you to be ready for your first audience before 10; a dress is already prepared in your room.’ Of course, there was a dress. All you could do was smile as you bit into a forkful of egg.

‘Oh, and there is one gentleman I would particularly like you to meet,’ your father chimed in, almost as if with an afterthought that he recollected at the last minute. You looked up at him apprehensively. ‘I had made a nice acquaintance of his father on our travel. What was his name– Harrolds, no…’ ‘Harrington, father. It was Mr Harrington.’ Nicholas corrected before looking over to you as he shared more. ‘He is a tradesman, quite successful. His only son had joined us on the ship back to England.’ The emphasis on his lineage was made with an apparent inclination. There were no more heirs, meaning the son would inherit the man’s entire wealth. ‘Certainly seems like a reasonable young man, clever too. The two of you will have lots to speak of.’

Well, I certainly cannot wait to meet him,’ you forced out a smile before quickly getting on with your meal despite losing all your appetite. At that moment, your stomach felt like a hollow pit, eating away at you, ironically.

‘You know, if you gave this all a chance, you might find yourself to actually enjoy it in the end,’ your mother commented with a tight lip.

‘I am sure I shall enjoy it then, as it means that it has all, in fact, ended.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I simply do not understand why this is a must in my life? Why must I marry this instant?’

‘Do not worry, dear. You are still young; you still have plenty of time, ' your father said, missing your point entirely and making you roll your eyes. ‘But your mother is right, too, a more agreeable attitude towards this will make things much easier.’

‘For whom, exactly? Is it for me to enjoy myself, or for everyone else as you will not have to endure me any longer?’

‘Can you really blame us?’ Nicholas mumbled, receiving a kick in the shin in return. He spent the rest of the discussion rubbing the targetted spot on his leg with a pained crease between his brows. You, besides gaining the small victory of maiming your brother, found yourself yet again on the losing side of another family dispute. Like all its predecessors, this battle ended with you pushing back your chair with a harsh scrape of the panelled floor and slugging back to your room where a dress awaited.

It was beautiful; you could not deny that. Elegant and straightforward, it accented all your finest assets for interested suitors. It was comfortable: not too heavy or too textured in its pattern, it was made of soft material that slipped right on, with the fit of a well-tailored glove. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, leaving nothing to hide behind.

‘You look lovely, miss,’ your maid said with a kind smile as she put the final pin in your hair.

‘Thank you, Claire.’ You muttered, noticing the saddened sympathy enveloping her features as she knew like no other how much you detested everything about what you were about to go through. ‘Have you got any advice? On how to endure it all?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she shrugged, brushing something off your shoulder. ‘I suppose you could try making them uninterested in you, so they will want to leave sooner.’

‘That thought has crossed my mind,’ you admitted, ‘but I also do not want to put my entire family to shame.’

‘Of course, miss.’ Claire nodded. As she finished working on your presentation, you pondered over your possibilities. Indeed, presenting yourself as improper had been your first idea, and its appeal remained, but you were too afraid of the repercussions. If the gentlemen were to think of you as a lady without any manners, all it would do was put your upbringing up for question, something your parents did not deserve whatsoever.

You also considered spreading gossip about the men coming to introduce themselves, which would scare your mother off them immediately, ensuring they were never to return by your parents’ preference. But it felt cruel to make up such lies. You were sure that in other circumstances, these were perfectly fine men. At this particular moment, you just happened to despise them and everything they stood for.

Perhaps the most appealing option was to simply not attend the audience. To run away and never to return… at least until the afternoon, once all the men had lost all their patience. But that would only cause you more trouble.

The ideas rolled around your head for the rest of the day, even once the suitors sat opposite you in the room. It was all incredibly dull, if not just mortifyingly humiliating, with your mother sitting only across the room, occupying herself with a book, or so it seemed because she most definitely was listening to the conversations attempted on your part.

‘So,’ as most of the dialogues began, the Lord whose name you already forgot spoke, clearing his throat, ‘I hear you read.’

‘Yes, ' you said, blinking to avoid staring too blankly at the wall behind the man, ignoring the balding patch atop his head.

‘Grand,’ he smiled, somehow satisfied with your response already.

‘Do you… ride?’ you asked, hoping that at the least your mother heard your attempts at making a connection and would release you from this torment soon enough on the principle of your good sportsmanship.

‘No, God no, horses are far too beastly for my liking, unless we are speaking of the track, of course.’ The man scoffed, ‘However, I prefer more dignified activities, such as hunting.’

‘Of course, you do,’ you smiled, but the expression never reached your eyes. ‘What about chess? Do you play?’

‘I do not have the patience to commit to such silly games.’

Patience, you thought, or intelligence? And how ironic of him to speak of perseverance. You watched him take another small sandwich from the tea tray provided on a side table, which you were taught to ignore so as not to be observed as “gluttonous”. After all, no one wanted to marry a lady that ate all day.

Considering that, you grabbed a plate and a piece of cake from the top of the tray and bit into it. The soft sponge melted on your tongue. In the meantime, you were asked a question, but you could not possibly answer with a mouthful of cake, could you? Once you had finished, you considered grabbing a second portion, but you could feel the judgmental look of your mother digging into the back of your head.

You put the plate back down and your hands on your lap.

‘I’m sorry, my lord, could you repeat the question, please. I fear I may have lost myself for a moment.’ And so, it continued. Thankfully, the man excused himself not long after, thanking you and your mama for the time, just for his seat to be replaced with someone else almost immediately. This time, the gentleman was significantly younger, with thick hair atop his head and charming eyes, but the second he spoke, you knew this would not reach much further than the comfort of this room. At the least, you did not see this relationship going any further than any of the other acquaintances you had made that day.

By lunchtime, you felt your eyes burning with fatigue, possibly caused by a constant suppression of tears. How much more could you possibly take of this torture?

‘Mr Elton was quite a charmer, was he not?’ Your mother commented as she sipped her tea.

You suppressed your initial thought, rephrasing it to cause less offence, ‘He is too stubborn and self-centred. He barely let me speak a single word, too occupied by his own achievements to expect me to have any.’

‘Well, Lord Frankworth seemed to care very much for what you had to say.’

‘Only because he barely managed to string any thoughts together himself,’ you sighed.

Your mother tightened her grip on the teacup before smiling. ‘Soon enough, we will find you a perfectly fine young man, dear. You just have to remain open-minded.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Speaking of, your next suitor should be here shortly.’

You did everything in your power not to groan at the announcement and instead nodded politely. ‘Who is it?’

‘Mr Harrington, the one your father was so keen on you meeting.’

‘Ah,’ yes, the American. The only thing that gave you some slight hope in the situation was that Mr Harrington had already spent plenty of time in the company of your father and brother Nicholas and had seemingly gained their blessing. But nothing could help you gain the energy to entertain yet another man with polite conversation. The sun had been beaming into the room since the early morning, only growing warmer and warmer, making the hairs at the small of your neck stick.

‘Will you just excuse me for a moment, mother.’ You got up.

‘Is something wrong?’ She looked suspicious but with a glint of worry in her eye.

‘I am quite fine, just require some fresh air, I think,’ which was not entirely a lie.

‘Alright then, just make haste, child.’ Mr Harrington was on his way, after all. ‘We do not want to keep the man waiting.’

‘Of course not,’ you smiled, heading towards the door. When the large panels closed behind you, you picked up your skirt and ran toward the gardens. Your footsteps echoed through the corridors, and you caught several members of the house staff glancing your way with inquisitive looks.

Ever since you could remember, the grounds around Ridlington Park had a fantastical power about them. It had been the turf on which you would spend countless childhood summer days playing games with your siblings, whether the competitive or imaginary type. But no matter what the six of you could think of, your favourite game would always remain Hide and Go Seek. The gardens were a perfect place for it, with endless nooks and crannies one could disappear into. It was nearly a giant maze, and you had mastered it from a very young age. Whilst most got lost between the shrubbery and flowers, you knew exactly where you had found yourself.

There were plenty of hiding spots you enjoyed over the years, some that to this day remain a mystery to the rest of your family, but nonetheless, it was the stables you adored the most. It was a safe haven for you on many days, to the point that you had nearly become invisible to the staff working there.

The stables were located in the far east corner of the grounds, and the walk towards it already cost more time than you had if you had ever planned on returning that quickly. Undeniably, there was a pinch of shame and guilt nipping at your heart towards the strange Mr Harrington, but that soon dissolved when you heard the neighing of Barley Sugar, a golden-brown mare you proudly called yours. A gift and result of a successful business trade made by your father years ago, the horse technically belonged to all of the Byrnwick children, as much as any of the other horses under the family’s possession, but the bond between you and that particular horse just turned out to be that much stronger.

This was visible as soon as you entered the stable. Barley Sugar went wild at your presence, happily swinging her head from side to side.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ you grinned, petting the horse, who leaned into your touch immediately. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’

But your plans were quickly interrupted by a voice. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’

❀❀❀

An average sea voyage from the Americas to England should take approximately 16 days, considering the weather corresponds with the sails of the ship. During this journey, passengers would most likely endure days upon days of heavy and tall waves bashing across the ship’s sides, and that is to be expected in favourable conditions.

As Lord Byrnwick and his eldest had boarded the ship headed to London, the sky had been bright blue, and it did not change far beyond that. There was, of course, a risk for the two of them to sail across the world as they did, them being head of the family and its heir. A journey such as this one can go awry in many ways, and if it were not for the dangers of seafaring, there were the Anglo-American tensions to consider. After all, the previous year's war was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and one could not be careful enough when entertaining both sides. Luckily for the Byrnwicks, they were not of the superstitious kind, and good fortune had always seemed to be in the family’s favour up until the very moment they stepped on the boat to return home, many years beyond that.

Ever the convivial one, the most considerable success of the trip, according to Lord Byrnwick, was not the business or diplomatic aspects of their ventures but the social. The man immensely enjoyed meeting other like-minded spirits from across the pond, and there had been plenty of fine nights at gentleman’s clubs spent over fine spirits and betting games, discussing all sorts of topics and exchanging information on all subjects. Promises were made to keep in touch whilst arrangements were made for more future meetings. It was only the polite thing to do.

But aside from acquaintances and business partners, an addition to the household had also been made. Of some sort, that is, for it seemed that the two had found a new groom in America.

Now, Gentle Reader, do not conclude of the worst, as the groom we speak of is not the sort one is meant to meet at an altar but the kind who spends his days tending the horses and carriages. The young man, Mr Munson, had been doing precisely that when the Byrnwick heir stumbled upon his conveyance services in town, in dire need of transport for his regular means, which had already been occupied by his father for the day. It was an encounter by utter chance but certainly one with greater consequences.

Several days later, coincidentally, a letter from London had arrived. Five pages long, each written by a member of the family recounting their most notable memories of the week. The children spoke of the ton's gossip and anecdotes of what occurred at home. Mother, however, took it upon herself to write of more important matters regarding the household. Many topics had to be discussed, but in the middle of her letter, there was mention of the unfortunate passing of the family’s barn manager, Mr Falstipp. It was an unexpected death, leaving the entire house in shock as the man had been working for the family for longer than the children had been alive. But it also resulted in the question of what was to be done now?

It was likely only because the interaction had been so fresh in his mind that Nicholas suggested finding a replacement for Mr Falstipp here in America. This was an unusual offer, as his father commented, especially since they would not leave for home until another few days, but that was to be resolved by having the footmen take care of the horses for the time being. Besides, Nicholas was sure his siblings would be more than happy to help with the chores.

The next day, he returned to the public stables and immediately noted how much cleaner they seemed than any other in town. The horses also looked exceptionally well taken care of and content.

Mr Munson had just been feeding a colt when Nicholas eagerly announced, ‘Mr Munson, may I offer you a proposition?’

This, to no surprise, startled the other man for various reasons. ‘Sir?’

‘This must be a peculiar request, but you see, as of recently, my family has found itself in need of a new stablehand and from what I have seen you do, you, sir, would be the perfect candidate.’ Nicholas had the smile of a man losing his sanity, but his words could not be more genuine.

‘Your family—’ Munson blinked, ‘you mean in London.’

‘Yes, and I understand that this might be a problem, but trust me when I say that you will most certainly find England to your liking, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’

‘As you wish,’ Nicholas agreed.

Eddie pondered over the offer for a short moment. It would have taken him no time to decide if it was not for what he was to leave behind, but he knew that his current employer would be able to find his replacement in no time, as jobs in town were hard to come by.

But what must have been even more challenging to obtain was a ticket out of the wasteland he called home. For years, he had dreamt of an escape, never imagining it to be possible, and suddenly, here comes this stranger offering it to him on a silver platter.

It would be terrifying to move so far away, he knew that, with many risks, but the further away he could manage to go from where he was now, the better.

Eventually, after a minute of silence that left Nicholas restless and on the verge of embarrassment, Eddie smiled: ‘It would be my pleasure to work for you, sir.’ And he had meant that wholeheartedly. While it had only been a short few interactions that he had had with the man, the young Mr Byrnwick had already shown Eddie far more kindness than any of his prior employers, or any other man in his life, for a fact. Most importantly, the man knew nothing about Eddie’s past, which must have been the biggest selling point in the life-changing choice.

‘Marvelous. You will not regret this, Eddie.’ Nicholas leaned in to shake his hand, only to realise that Eddie was still carrying the giant bucket of feed. ‘Well, we shall finalise everything on the boat, shall we?’ And so they did.

A week later, Eddie found himself still in shock at his circumstances. He could not believe he was really to be leaving for England until the moment he set foot on the boat, and even once the sails had set and the American coast was nothing but a grim line on the horizon, the fact did not seem to settle in his mind just yet.

Over the next 16 days, he had encountered the Byrnwicks only a handful of times. First, to meet Lord Byrnwick who, as head of the household, wanted a final say on the matter. A bit late, thought Eddie, as the boat had long departed the harbour by then, but his ticket had already been paid for, and thus, he had little else to complain about. He had quickly made peace with the idea that he could make his new life across the ocean work no matter the circumstances. He had done it before, so what is one more homeless night under a new sky?

But the lord seemed all too happy to have found his staff replacement. Overall, the man was nothing like Eddie had expected a gentleman of English high society to be. From his previous experiences, the type often was rather conceited and arrogant, with a transparent opinion of anyone below their class. His new employer and his son, while undoubtedly lordly, had a modest nature about them. Quickly, Eddie had also gathered that the spontaneity with which Nicholas Byrnwick had called upon him for a job opportunity was not uncharacteristic of him, as the young man was rather energetic in his step and impulsive in his actions.

But no matter how unassuming the men were, they did belong to a different rank of man and, therefore, stayed on the boat to the upper decks, engaging with the rest of their kind.

The travel moved on slowly, but in the end, it was also a mere blink of an eye moment, and before he had realised it, Eddie had reached the shores of England. It was another day or two of travel to be done by horse. A carriage had been acquired for Nicholas and his father, but Eddie and the rest of the staff that travelled with the family for their adventure rode on horseback. No matter how much Eddie enjoyed the form of transportation, it was a tiring experience after several hours, but it also allowed him to meet the people he was to work with and, through that, those he would work for.

‘So, what is the rest of the family like,’ he asked Mr Trowbridge, the lord’s valet. If there was anyone who could tell Eddie something, it would be this man.

‘Well,’ Mr Trowbridge had a particularly nasal tone about his voice that especially came forward at the beginning of his sentences, ‘I do not believe there is much to tell. They are as any other family, really.’

‘My good man, you can hardly expect me to believe there is nothing worth telling about these people,’ Eddie laughed. ‘If it puts your mind at ease, I am only asking for the simplest facts—nothing to interest my fancy.’

The valet pondered over this for a moment. ‘Very well. You have, of course, met the Viscount and his eldest.’ He took a moment for Eddie to respond with a nod in agreement. He then took another moment to consider his following words. The longer he took, the more keen Eddie felt to suggest what to speak of.

‘What about Lady Byrnwick?’

‘Lady Byrnwick is most amiable and has a very caring character, but you will not find her in the stables often unless she is searching for her children.’

‘Not fond of horses, is she?’

‘Rather the outside—-’ Trowbridge cleared his hair vigorously. ‘In the sense that the sun and pollen often leave her poorly. But the children…’ he punctuated his half-sentence with a heavy sigh.

‘They are a handful?’ Eddie assumed. To this, Trowbridge searched for another description but found himself lacking the vocabulary, leading to a confirmation.

‘I have worked for this family for nearly three decades, and I will assure you that each member is as proper a member of society as the next. While boisterous, they have been taught to be independent individuals.’ The valet's tone made Eddie consider how much of their good decorum was in gratitude for the man’s own intervention and guidance.

‘At 27 years, Nicholas is the eldest, and the responsibilities of this role are one of the few aspects of his life which he takes seriously, I cannot put any doubt behind that.’ Indeed, whilst extremely impetuous, the heir’s son also understood the duties of his position and towards his family.

‘Then there is Christopher. The boy has immense athletic abilities but not much beyond that. For a young man of his age of five and twenty, one would assume he would be able to compose himself with a bit more propriety, but it is very difficult for him. He is adventurous and rarely can sit still for an extended period of time, including his mouth. It is suggested that people be careful of what they say around the man.

‘The eldest daughter, Annabelle, married just before we had departed for America, thus is now the lady of her own house.’ Something in his tone suggested he was sad to see the young woman leave home. This possibly has to do with the fact that Miss Annabelle (Now known as Duchess Annabelle Ramsbury) was the most dutiful and respectful of the six children. ‘The marriage had been long overdue as she had just turned 22 on the day of the ceremony, but a love match was found nonetheless.’ The valet guffawed with pride. It was clear to Eddie that, while considering them a nuisance, the man cared deeply for the family he served.

‘I must admit, Trowbridge,’ Eddie chuckled in this horse’s trot pattern over the uneven paths. ‘When you began speaking of the family, I had imagined the children to be… well, children.’

‘How old are you, Munson?’ Trowbridge asked, somewhat bluntly.

‘Twenty, sir.’ Perhaps closer to his next birthday than the last.

‘Ah, just the age of the second daughter then,’ he nodded in agreement. ‘She may perhaps be the most… rebellious of the kin. It is all in good spirit, as you must imagine, and I am sure the interest in such nonsense will dwindle as she matures. She is also the most fond of the family horses; thus, you will see her quite often, I expect. But as her sibling, she has mastered the care for the animals as well as the equipment.’

As he spoke of your skills, something about Trowbridge's expression communicated particular dismay to Eddie. ‘Is that bad? For a young woman to know how to carry herself around a horse?’ He, for one, certainly did not see a problem in it. On the contrary, it was an instrumental skill to develop for anyone.

‘It is not exactly lady-like, is it?’ Trowbridge spoke as if that was the only relevant argument on the matter. Eddie had learned from a very young age that some opinions were better left unsaid, and seeing him as the senior in age and position, Eddie thought it unwise to argue with the valet on his first official day of employment. He instead simply nodded in understanding. Instead, he opted to continue the civil interrogation—

‘What of the youngest two? What are they like?’

‘Fitzwilliam is a dapper fellow. He is but seventeen, but very accomplished, though I cannot say he knows how to put his acquired skills to good use. He has ambitions that cannot be denied; it is just a question of whether these ambitions can ever be met.

‘And lastly, we have Miss Marjorie. A darling girl, I assure you,’ Trowbridge stated. I can only suggest not letting her size fool you, Munson. She has managed to wrap her family around her little fingers the moment she learned to mumble a word, leaving her to cause quite the ruckus for the past eleven years.’

‘I do not see how that involves me, Sir,’ Eddie said. By this time, the sun had begun to set over the fields they passed, and soon, the company would break for their overnight travels at a nearby inn.

‘It had come to my attention over the years that Mr Falstipp–the previous groom, that is— had been quite lenient on the children and their usage of the horses. This has caused a number of incidents that I would rather not see a repetition of.’

‘Understood.’

‘I am unaware of your er– American customs,’ the valet began his lecture, ‘but you must also know that here, ladies are not to ride unaccompanied—something that has been protested in the family to no avail, but it is simply the procedure. There must always be a chaperone nearby to supervise, whether that is a senior member of the family or an entrusted member of the household.’

‘I do not expect to have gained that trust just yet,’ Eddie said earnestly.

‘But let us hope you will.’ The smile Trowbridge gave Eddie was kind at first glance, but the movement of his eyes that inspected him told an entirely different story. He knew he still had much to learn about navigating himself around the kinds of people that were the Byrnwicks, even those who worked for them. The moment he set foot on English soil, he knew it would be challenging to fit in if he ever planned to do so.

The truth is that he did not plan such a change. For you see, Dear Reader, Mr Eddie Munson was also a radical. He did not believe in adapting to society, which was visible in his entire being. One can also imagine the struggle he had to endure when given a uniform to wear. Frankly, the ensemble did not differ much from how the man dressed himself before, but the simple fact that he was told to wear this particular set of clothing upset him severely.

On the first day after his arrival at Ridlington Park, he had managed to justify himself out of dressing in the required clothing by claiming that the trousers were a smidgen too tight. Without another size available, he was told to wear the clothes on his back until the new, fitted attire arrived.

But the clothes did not even begin to reach the problem of the horses he was meant to care for.

Turned out, while he had been given all sorts of warnings against the family, what Eddie should have been preparing for was the beasts that homed the stables. The stubborn animals would not let him touch them, and any attempts were met with angry stares and stomping of the hooves.

‘Easy, there,’ Eddie spoke as softly as he could, taking small steps in any direction that would not enrage the stallion whom he was currently attempting to feed. White Liquorice, a white Arabian, was undoubtedly an animal worthy of a viscount, and from the moment he had stepped into the Ridlington Park stables, Eddie knew that the Kentucky Saddlers and Quarter Horses he grew up with were no match for these and he would quickly have to learn to get on with them if he was to stay here.

Yes, the first days were hard, but not even one week later, he had gotten used to the rhythm of operations. It helped that, working as the barn manager, he was the one in charge and mostly left alone. Mr Trowbridge had visited him to ensure he was adjusting to the new working conditions, which was kind, but besides that, Eddie rarely saw anyone but footmen requesting the carriage to be prepared for the family.

That is until one afternoon when he heard the doors open and someone walking inside. He had been around the corner of the stables, cleaning some grooming tools.

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ he heard the intruder speak. It was soft and gentle, most likely referring to one of the horses. Immediately, Eddie was reminded of one of the conversations shared with Lord Byrnwick’s valet. He swiftly got up from his seat and immediately found the culprit.

He watched you pet one of the horses—Barley Sugar, was it—-petting her in a way he had not yet managed to do confidently. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’ These words triggered him to jump into action.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ He stepped forward, but his words startled you, causing you to turn around. As you did so, your foot got caught in an old set of bridles Eddie had still planned on detangling and putting away. The surprise coming with the unexpected presence of someone else, combined with the awkward position of your foot, led you to fall over with a shriek.

Eddie cursed under his breath as he watched you huff on the ground. ‘Let me help you,’ he extended his hand to you, ‘and my apologies, it was not my intent to—’

‘Who are you?’ you said in a tone that could only be deemed skittish, if not directly fearful, but not enough to deny his offer to help you stand. Your reaction was validated as you had never met the man standing before you. You eyed him up and down, and the more details you noticed, the more you were sure that you had just stumbled upon a robbery, nay, a kidnapping.

The man's presentation spoke for itself, truly. His long hair was dark and unkept, well over his shoulders. His clothes were nothing like the workers around your house were meant to dress like, making him stick out like a very sore thumb. The trousers were old and worn, and the shirt was loose over his upper body, revealing—oh god, was that a tattoo?

It was clear this is how you were to die.

‘Are you here to steal my horses?’ you blurted out before you could think.

‘What?’ He blinked. ‘No, please, listen—’ but you did no such thing. Instead, you did the only thing a lady in distress could do.

You screamed bloody murder.

‘Help! Anyone! Help—’ you would have kept on going, shouting over his attempt at reason until he finally shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth, his other hand sturdily over your upper arm. The two of you stood there for a moment, chests both heaving in all forms of panic, listening for footsteps or any other presence, but the only sound was the soft breathing of the animals around you.

‘I will let go now, miss,’ Eddie said slowly. Both your eyes were wide from the uncultivated situation that had just occurred. ‘And I will explain everything to you, just, please—and I beg you— do not scream.’ You nodded your head beneath his palm in agreement. Eddie counted to three as he stepped back and finally let go of you. Despite him never blocking your airways, you inhaled deeply.

‘There is absolutely no reason to panic, ma’am.’ His accent was distant, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. His eyes, large and dark, locked you in, almost making you lose count of the lingering feeling of his hands on your body. He had given you a moment before he continued speaking, ensuring that you would not resume your screaming or make a run for it.

‘What is your reason of being here?’ You inquired.

‘I work here. Have been, for the past week. I think it was your brother, in fact, that gave me the position. We met on his travels.’

Now, come to think of it, you remembered your family's conversation on the day your father and brother returned. There had been talk of new staff—a young man they had brought along with them from America as an official replacement for the late Mr Falstipp. But that did not explain his attire.

‘You could be fired for breaking the dress code alone, you know. Not to mention for the, uhm, actions you had just performed.’ You commented.

‘Well, you can always report me, miss.’ Eddie, against all his better judgement, smiled.

‘Maybe I should.’ Your heart was still pounding, and you felt so disoriented that even a simple smile made your head spin. ‘What is your name?’

‘Eddie.’

‘Well, Mr Eddie—’ you began, just to be quickly interrupted.

‘No, just Eddie.’ Eddie shook his head.

‘What do you mean? Do you have no family name?’ You had heard of men bringing in street urchins to work for them, but surely, this man was too old for such charity. And you could not imagine your brother to perform such acts of kindness anyway.

‘I do.’ His smile only widened in amusement at the conversation. ‘Eddie Munson.’

‘My, is it usual in America to introduce oneself like that?’ Never had you heard of a man introducing himself by only his first name, let alone a byname.

‘It is usual to me,’ he quipped, ‘And it is more common than not introducing yourself at all.’ The way in which he looked up at you from under his lashes felt accusatory, but you could not find it within you to be upset at the critique, so you gave him your name instead.

‘Pleasure to meet you, Miss Byrnwick.’ He gave you a small, polite bow that reminded you more of how children play Lord and Lady rather than a gentlemanly act. Next thing you knew, a smile was pulling at the corner of your lips, and a small giggle was ready to escape.

For some reason, you hesitated to say your following words: ‘It is a pleasure, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ While always respecting the titles of others, Eddie never saw himself as one to follow such formalities.

‘That is most improper.’ You held back the urge to scoff.

‘But I insist.’ There was something in the corner of his eye that you managed to catch a glimpse of—this spark that no sunlight or fire could match. It was pure mischief, a spirit of chaos. But still, to call a man you barely knew by his first name was simply not right. Your family may jest as they please about your rebelling attitude to primitive customs, but you had to admit that some things ought to be done in a proper manner. And this was certainly not it.

However, Mr Munson saw it in another light but did not find enough of an interest in the subject enough to argue it further. Rather, he cleared his throat briefly and observed you for a moment.

How silly you must look in your fancy dress! Your hair was done up to match, and your shoes were most likely covered in mud. There was also no doubt that he had overheard you talking to your horse about running away. You had good faith that he could connect the pieces to form the complete picture.

A bird flew past a window, making you glance past Eddie’s shoulder in haste.

‘I hope I am not keeping you from any other plans, miss?’ He finally asked. Could you be so bold as to admit that he was saving you from other commitments by conversing with you?

‘No, of course, not Mr Munson,’ you persisted. ‘I am simply cautious.’ Come to think of it, your screams must have been heard all around the grounds. If those who heard, in turn, had an ounce of common sense amongst them, they would have called for someone in the house. If that was the case, your mother would be here momentarily, and then it was back to the house for you. All you could do now was hide.

‘May I ask what are you being cautious of?’ Eddie followed you with his eyes as you walked through the stables, looking for a hiding spot.

‘If you must know, I am currently on the run,’ you stated while looking over a haystack in the far corner.

‘Ah, so whilst you had accused me of being a criminal, it was you who had been committing the crimes then? Should I now scream for help?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t, ' you said, attempting to climb the hay to get past it. ‘I have already brought much too much attention to myself.’ Your foot slipped, making you tumble back down to the ground. The accident made you stop for a moment before attempting to climb again, looking over your shoulder at the man. ‘Are you not going to even try and stop me?’

‘Oh,’ it was as if he had awakened from a deep thought or had just realised that what you suggested was exactly what he ought to do. ‘Well, would you listen if I told you not to climb up there?’

You pondered his question for a short moment. ‘No, I highly doubt it.’ Thus, you resumed your climbing. As you did, you heard the shuffling of his feet behind you. The next time you slipped up, this time from a far higher distance, he had been in precisely the right place to catch you in his arms.

‘I cannot assure you I will be able to catch you once more, so it is in good conscience that I suggest you stop, ma’am,’ he said as you got back to your feet.

‘You are right,’ you admitted. Then you realised just how close the two of you stood and quickly occupied yourself by looking for another hiding place. That is when you noticed it. You had spent years in this stable and knew every inch of the space, yet… ‘Have you moved things around?’ You looked back at Eddie.

‘Only a little. I’m afraid my predecessor did not have a flair for organisation,’ he explained.

‘That may be so, but I would prefer you would put things back as they were.’

‘Excuse me?’ Eddie could not help but laugh at the demand.

‘Your new floor plan has completely disoriented me, ' you admitted. ‘It is unbecoming.’

‘My apologies. I will be sure to put things back as they were, then.’ His laugh still echoed his words.

You had not expected him to actually agree to this request. ‘You will?’ But quickly, you regained your composure and tried to hide the surprise in your voice. ‘Very well, thank you. Then, since you have discarded all of my possible hiding locations, what do you suggest I should do?’

‘I suggest you run.’ But it was not Eddie who had answered you.

‘Mother, ' you gasped. What was it, in God’s good name, with everyone sneaking up on you today? Lady Byrnwick stood at the threshold of the stables with her arms crossed. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she took a step inside. You prepared yourself for a disciplinary outburst, but instead, your mother focused on the man standing next to you.

‘You must be Mr Munson.’ The kindness in her voice was laughable. The overcompensation of her kindness threw both you and Eddie off.

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ You noticed that he bowed his head in a much more orderly fashion than he had done to you.

‘I hope my daughter has not been too much of a nuisance.’

‘Not at all.’ Eddie politely replied.

‘Good, good. Well, I can already see that my son did a good job in finding you,’ she stated as she looked around the retouched interior. ‘And I hope that you will grow to enjoy England.’

‘I’ve had nothing to complain of yet.’ Eddie proudly said with that smile of his, and for a moment, you thought to have caught his eyes on you for just a second. Your mother nodded along with his words in satisfaction, but this cheeriness dissipated as soon as she directed herself to you.

‘Has your headache cleared, dear?’ Her eyes were spitting fire.

‘Yes, mother.’

‘Then we will be on our way.’ She stepped aside, giving you room to walk outside. ‘Goodbye, Mr Munson.’ Eddie had become the unintentional victim of the venom that perferred your mother's words.

He was polite enough to look away as you made your shameful walk through the aisle between the horses’ stalls, but you couldn’t help but look behind you one final time as you left and catch his favourable grin. What a peculiar man he was, indeed—one whose presence you immediately began to miss.

Perhaps that was because of the company you were in at the time.

‘Have you gone completely mad?’ Your mother scowled. ‘Mr Harrington has been waiting for well over half an hour.’

‘He is still here?’ You stopped in your tracks. This day could not have gone any worse. It seemed like everything you had been doing was working in your favour.

‘Yes, so you better come up with a clever excuse for your tardiness as I will not be embarrassed any longer. I swear, have you no shame?’

‘I am truly sorry mother, I had lost track of the time.’

‘Doing what exactly? What were you doing in the stables, exactly? Considering you had told me you were going out for some fresh air.’ Yes, the air around the horses was not exactly to be called “fresh.”

Unfortunately, you had no satisfying answer to any of your mother’s questions. Come to it, you yourself were unsure what exactly had brought you there in the first place, not to mention what made you stay. It must have been a sense of child-like naivete to think you could hide from your problems the way you attempted.

Problems that were coming closer as Mr Harrington walked towards you through the aisle of hyacinths that grew all around you in various colours.

‘What is he doing here?’ you mumbled towards your mother.

‘Considering the lovely weather, I had offered for us to sit out in the gardens.’ Your mother spoke out loud. That is when you noticed the set table and chairs under a large parasol on the patio.

‘I hope you do not mind. I took the initiative of taking a stroll in your absence.’ Mr Harrington spoke in a cadence that would have been new to you if not for the fact that you had spent the last hour in the presence of a very similar tone.

‘Of course, not,’ your mother had regained her ability to smile. ‘May I introduce my daughter.’ And so she did.

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. I completely lost track of time.’ You apologised and were ready to offer your hand to Mr Harrington when you noticed how filthy your gloves had become. In a panic, you pushed both your hands behind your back, trying to distract the man with a wide grin.

‘The important thing is that we are all here now,’ he manoeuvred, which you could not help but agree with, then led you to the patio.

The next hour went by faster than you had ever imagined it would. Mr Steve Harrington turned out to be not only a great conversationalist but a rather fascinating one at that. It was only a fault of your own that you were distracted for a larger part of the conversation. There was simply something about the man’s brown eyes that constantly reminded you of somewhere else. He was very charming and, abiding by your brother’s promises, had a great, though perhaps somewhat awkward, wit. It seemed that his confidence, once clearly overt, had been lowered, causing him to stumble over his words at times and laugh at his own mistakes in a deprecating manner, but never enough to make it a bother in your eyes. Truly, it was all rather endearing.

But you could not, for the life of you, figure out what exactly caused these fumblings in his character, as nothing seemed to be particularly wrong with the man. Though you did not see him as an academic or scholar of any sort, from the way he spoke, you could tell he was one of the more clever men you had the fortune of meeting. And his looks were certainly no topic of discussion either. He was tall and lean, with a wonderful smile and soft brown hair that apparently was more common than imagined, as were those dark eyes and the way he held you in his arms—

You took a sip of the cold water as Mr Harrington expressed his gratitude to your mother for the audience and made sure the message would be conveyed to Lord Byrnwick, too. You nodded and smiled along. Even when he bid you farewell and bowed his head, your mind was elsewhere. As if expecting something to emerge from behind the hyacinths, you could not help but glance in the Eastern direction of the gardens.

‘See, it was not all that bad, was it?’ your mother immediately said, pulling you back to the patio. By then, Mr Harrington had excused himself and was crossing the patio to the exit from the grounds but had turned briefly for a final goodbye, which you met with a polite wave.

‘No, I suppose you are right, mother.’ You had persevered against all odds. As you watched the gentleman leave, you felt quite content with the meeting—happy, some would even say. The only problem was that you could not make quite clear what, or rather, who brought on this particular mood.

To be continued...

Thank you so much for reading!! I really do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Remember the best way to support writers is to reblog and share. I love to hear what people think of my stories so feel free to leave a comment or an ask or message.

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sweetnergirl · 1 month

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No bc like… just imagine plug!connie and you being his bsf sister.

“S-stoppp…CONNIE PLZZZ!!”you cried out in the most whiniest voice you’ve ever made

“Shhh, baby you non’t want you’re brother to here how much of a slut you’re being for his best friend.” He rasped in your ear as his fingers moved in and out of you as he curled them on that spot that he knows make you crumble under him. “B-b-baby plz, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that”, you said as tears that you were holding finally came sliding down the sides of your face.

“Aww you gonna cum, come on. Go ahead come for me”. Connie whispered in your ear then sat up on his hind legs and smirked(his bottom diamond grills shining) as he watched that chubby tummy of your’s that he loved so much(the reader also has a hello kitty belly piercing), quiver as he watched you fall apart. You couldn’t take it as his fingers continued to move and his thumb rubbed that swollen little nub of yours…So you tried to push is hand away by grabbing his wrist. “Nahh this what you wanted right mamas, what happen to you being all big and bad when you was teasing me wit them lil as shorts tryna show off to my friend” he stated in a firm and slightly aggressive tone while never slowing down.

Though you could only respond with a string of whiny and pornographic moans from him just playing with your pussy like it was nothing. You knew exactly what he was referring to, you didn’t know ony was going to have company over you had just woken up from a nap and taken a shower by then throwing on a plain cropped wife beater w/hello kitty shorts that you’ve had since you were nine and yea they had gotten shorter and tighter over the years… But HEY! They still fit. You walked out of your room welcomed by the strong smell of weed and the three boys in the living room smoking(Eren, Connie and ony).

While Connie’s eyes stayed on you roaming up and down your body as if he could eat you along w/the stare of Eren Yeager. “Aye y/n, look at you all grown up it’s been too long we should hang out together just like old time’s” Eren tells you while also eyeing you. “Nah she’s still annoying, the only reason she used to hang out w/ is because she would beg me to and if I say no she would be a little snitch”. Ony complains as I roll my eyes and strolled to the kitchen. “Yeah but she cool now right y/n?”Eren asked taking a puff of the jay and Turing his head to look at me in the kitchen eating a fruit roll up, “yepp I’m cool now… right Connie?” I questioned as I walked over the the side of the sofa Eren was sitting on and taking the jay from his hand then taking a puff. “Earth to con, you good bro”,ony asked while waving a hand in his face. “Yeah I’m good just, just thinking”.

As time went on me and Eren just talked while ony and con did they’re thing but even then I noticed Connie staring the whole time with dark eyes filled w/lust and irritation rolling his eyes any time i laughed at ren’s jokes or touch his arm or me showing him my fresh nail set when he asked.

By the end of the night I was high out of my mind from all the smoking and decided it was time for me to go back in my room and probably go back to sleep, which is when Connie shows up in my room during the middle of the night confronting me about whatever he called “the situation” which was just me catching up w/ an old friend. It wasn’t that big of a deal to me.

“Shut the fuck up I’m sick of hearing you mouth, matter of a fact turn that ass around im bout to tear that ass up”.

THIS WAS MY FIRST POST SO GO EASY ON ME AND GIVE POSITIVE FEEDBACK.

#connie x black reader #plug!connie #eren jaeger #black reader #chubby #aot x black reader #chubby reader

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starry-hughes · 3 months

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almost lover

trevor zegras x hughes sister!reader

warnings: angst, heartbreak, reader has a breakdown, flashbacks to high school, crying, more crying and angst, unrequited love (or so they think), shitty best friend

any italicized portions indicates a flashback

navigation

Trevor would have never expected to find himself in this position in life. He’s not even twenty-three years old but he’s sealing envelopes with wedding invitations. They are being sealed with gold stickers, a choice by his bride-to-be, who picked out everything for the event, who begged him to let her have this wedding so fast after getting engaged. The end of the summer in upstate New York would be where Trevor would say his vows and be married.

“We included (Y/N) on the invites, right?” His fiancé, Annalise, asked. Trevor is snapped out of his daydream when he hears her name. “What?” he asked. “(Y/N)? Like (Y/N) Hughes?” Annalise confirmed. “I think it says the whole Hughes family,” Trevor’s throat suddenly feels dry. “Oh good, I feel bad that we don’t really talk or see her anymore. But she deserves the invite, she’s the reason we’re together.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I never told you? She was in love with you in high school but so was I. She said that she was okay with me asking you to prom.” Trevor Zegras was letting his memory fall back to years ago. It felt like so long ago, senior year of high school, even though it was a couple of years ago.

Sifting through the mail at your parents house was a weekly task. Every Friday after you left work, you’d stop by your apartment, change and then head to your parents. It was mid-January and it was cold in Michigan. After high school, you started at Michigan for school, you could have been a commuter but you needed a change. Heartbroken and hurt, two of your brothers leaving for the NHL, you moved into the dorms and deleted all traces of yourself on social media. No one knew why except six people.

You were in the middle of taking off your coat as you dropped the mail on the table by the front door, calling out for your parents who were in the living room. The dark blue envelope caught your eye.

It was addressed to the Hughes Family and sealed with a gold sticker. Not paying attention to the address it came from, you turned the envelope over and opened it. Your feet moved faster than your mind as you stared at the card. Engagement photos, taken on some beach, a date, upstate New York, a vineyard. “Honey what is it?” Ellen Hughes asked seeing her daughter with shaking hands. “A wedding invitation.”

High school was shoved out of your memory for a reason. Despite being a year older than you, Jack and you ended up in the same grade after you got ahead and skipped a year. Sitting in the car as Jack drove you, Luke, and Alex Turcotte to school every morning. It was like clockwork, getting to school early enough to get what you needed from your locker, greet friends, and walk to class. Luke was younger and had to go find his own friends every morning, running off with Dylan Duke as soon as you arrived at campus.

Your best friend, Annalise, met you at the door of the school every morning. It was March of your senior year. Spring break was in a week, you had already been accepted into the University of Michigan, Jack had declared himself for the draft, as did most of his friends. It was ending quickly and you couldn’t stop it. Signs for Prom hung around the school.

“Good morning,” Trevor’s voice made you jump. “Dude, don’t scare her,” Jack shoved his best friend. “Just saying good morning to her!” Trevor defended before smiling at you. You were in the middle of taking out your textbook from your locker. Annalise had gone silent when Trevor walked up. She was well aware of the crush you were haboring on Trevor. Ever since you moved there and met Trevor, you had been in love.

“Morning Trevor,” you said. “Going to prom?” he questioned. “What?” your eyes almost popped out of your head, “Oh.. I think so, my mom is taking Annalise and I dress shopping this weekend.” Trevor seemed satisfied with the answer before you decided it was time to head off to class. Annalise lingered for a second, just long enough to see Jack hit Trevor, “I thought you were going to ask her!” Jack whispered.

The day dragged on until lunchtime. You could have sat with Jack and his friends but Annalise and you settled on sitting somewhere else. “Can I tell you something and you have to promise not to get mad?” Annalise asked. “What?” you looked at her confused. “I asked Trevor to prom and he said yes.”

You almost screamed at Jack when the call connected. “You didn’t tell me?!”

He knew immediately what the call was about. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” You scoffed. The last time you saw Trevor was Jack’s draft weekend. Right before you disappeared off the face of the earth. You had dated guys since then, you had convinced yourself you were over him. But why did it hurt so bad? Why did you care so much? “He’s getting married to her.”

“(Y/N) please tell me you’re not mad,” Annalise begged. “I really like him and I know you do too but we were partners on the project together and I think this could be the one for me.” Your eyes were ringing. “I’m excited and happy with him, don’t you care about that?”

You composed yourself mentally. “You can have him if it makes you happy.” Annalise sighed out of relief. “Oh thank god. I was so nervous you’d be mad. Especially since we are going dress shopping together.” You drowned out her voice for a while as she talked about Trevor. “I have to go do test corrections for math,” you blurted and cut her off. You were leaving the cafeteria seconds later.

You felt sick as you sat between Luke and Quinn on the plane. The moments of your breakdown played over and over in your head. When you were seventeen, high school things mattered a lot more than they did now. So why were you so stuck on this?

“You okay?” Quinn asked. Jack had left for the wedding early, since he was part of the wedding party as a groomsman. “Yeah,” you bit your tongue and swallowed all the emotions you were feeling at the moment.

When you got to upstate New York, you felt suffocated. More and more memories dragging their way up into your brain. The moment Alex saw you enter the hotel lobby, where everyone was gathering before leaving for drinks down the street, he saw the same seventeen year old that broke down years ago and all you could see on his face was pity.

The days seemed to last for eternity. You arrived on Tuesday, the wedding was Friday. It was currently Thursday. Annalise didn’t even come to see you or text you. Granted, you didn’t try to keep contact after high school. Your three brothers were sharing a hotel room and your parents had their own, you had asked if it was okay if you had your own room as well. “Sweetheart,” your mom called, she had the extra key to your room. You had been sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the wall. She sat next to you. “I know that this is hard and I just want you to know how proud I am that you’re keeping your head up.”

Later that day, Jack left for the dress rehearsal. He arrived back early, hair a mess and cheeks red from yelling. “(Y/N)? You awake?” he pounded on your hotel door.

Jack drove you home at the end of the school day. You were quiet as the car rolled up to the house. Your brothers climbed out and Alex turned to look at you, confused. “Jack can I have the keys? I just want to go for a drive.” Jack tossed you the car keys and everyone else went inside.

Quinn was home briefly that night, his season at Michigan ended just a couple of days ago and he was working on signing to go to the Canucks. “Where’s your sister?” Jim asked Jack once it was time for dinner. Jack shrugged, “Said she wanted to go on a drive.” As if on cue, the front door opened and slammed shut. Keys were dropped into the bowl by the door.

“(Y/N)? You good honey?” your dad called out. Ellen leapt out of her chair at the dining table when you entered, tears streaming down your face. “What happened?” she questioned. “I give up everything for everyone. A-and people just take everything I want. When is it my turn?” you stuttered. “What’s going on?” your mom asked. “I’m in love with Trevor. Since I met him and I never said anything because he’s Jack’s friend. And I told Annalise and Annalise asked him to prom and said that if I was a good friend I’d do it for her. Am I a good friend now?!” you almost shouted. The room fell silent.

Jack looked guilty and looked at Alex, they both knew something you didn’t. “We left all my friends in Toronto to come here. I tried so hard not to like him because Jack. I never said anything. I swallowed all my feelings and I never complained! Because I’m a good daughter and a good sister and a good friend. Right?”

You rushed off to your room. Your mom following after you.

Jack’s chair scraped the floor of the restaurant as he stood. He was giving a speech at the dress rehearsal, probably better than in front of guests tomorrow. “Trevor, you’re my best friend and I’m happy if you’re happy. If anyone here doesn’t know, Annalise was my sister’s best friend,” Jack had venom laced in his voice. “My sister isn’t here tonight despite being the reason that these two are together, giving up everything for a best friend to be happy.” Alex tried tugging him to sit down.

“And Trevor, who was too scared to admit he loved my sister…” The room was silent. Jack raised his glass of champagne. “To the happy couple.”

Jack was practically dragged out of the room by Trevor who was upset. “What are you doing?” Trevor demanded. “What am I doing?! What are you doing? You were in love with (Y/N) and Annalise knew (Y/N) was in love with you! You act like you don’t get disappointed every time you come to visit in the summer and (Y/N) isn’t there. You ask about (Y/N) every time you talk to me. (Y/N) deserves to be loved.”

“Stop saying her name.”

“(Y/N) gave up everything for everyone else to be happy!” “Stop it!” Trevor yelled. “I didn’t know she loved me until Annalise told me when we were sending out invitations.”

Jack scoffed, “You don’t think that is ironic she waited this long to tell you?”

That weekend, you silently went dress shopping with your mom and Annalise. Your mom wanted to yell and protect you from the person you called a friend but you told her no. Your brothers had left you alone since your sobbing breakdown in front of them. You even gave your opinion on dresses for Annalise that you thought would look nice with Trevor’s eyes.

The morning of prom, you didn’t want to leave bed. This was it. Your first heartbreak. They always say the first one hurts the most. Annalise had texted you multiple times about how she was going to have her hair done, about the corsage Trevor picked out.

Jack appeared at your bedroom door with a plate of breakfast. “Can I come in?” he asked. Your bed was littered with tissues and Jack was guessing the empty ice cream pints were the ones that suddenly went missing from the freezer last night. He moved off some of the tissues and ice cream pints as he sat on the bed. “What time are you going to get ready?” he asked. “I’m not going.”

He frowned. “I think you should go.” You sat up and he placed the plate in your lap. Your eyes were puffy and your hair was getting matted. “Last night, Annalise said she deserved him more. Because I couldn’t tell him I loved him and she could.” Jack’s heart broke. “She’s right you know? I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry if me being friends stopped you from doing so-”

“I couldn’t do it because I was scared. And this is the price I’m paying for being scared.” Jack watched as you slowly ate the breakfast he brought up. “You’re really not going to go to prom?” he asked. “Mom said we can return my dress later, Dad said I can just say I have the stomach bug since Luke just had it.”

“They probably won’t last anyway,” Jack said. You sniffled and looked at him. “What to you mean by that?” He shrugged, “Just a feeling.”

After Jack began pounding on your door, you opened it. You were dressed for bed, eyes puffy and the box of tissues from the bathroom was on the nightstand. “What Jack?”

He entered the room and paced for a second. “If I tell you something, you have to hear me out before yelling.”

You looked at him, he wore a guilty expression and you motioned for him to continue. “The summer before senior year, right when Trevor got back for school, he told me that he thought he could be in love with you. He told me because he didn’t want to hide it from me since I’m your brother. And then he begged me not to tell you because he wanted to wait until he was ready to tell you himself. When you came home crying and saying that he was going to prom with Annalise, Alex and I both knew he loved you. That morning when he asked if you were going to prom, I thought he was going to ask you, he was supposed to ask you! She texted him right after that! I said it wasn’t going to last because I knew he loved you. And I’ve been hoping that one day he’d snap out of it and tell you.”

You stared at Jack. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you then and I should of. If I could go back and tell you, I would. I would tell you. I would take away all your heartache and make it better. It’s killed me for years to see you try and try to move on. He begged me not to tell you then so I didn’t but you are my sister and I should have done what was best for you.” He felt sick after you didn’t say anything.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he confessed the one thing he couldn’t confess for years. Your whole body was in shock but you moved silently to sit next to him. He was waiting for you to hit him, to say you weren’t his sister anymore. He wanted you to be upset and angry, it’s what he deserved.

“If he loved me, why didn’t he break up with her after prom?”

Jack managed a laugh, “I don’t know.” He wiped the snot from his nose, “I think I ruined the dress rehearsal. Maybe we don’t have to go to the wedding tomorrow.”

“We could say we got the stomach bug from Luke and can’t go,” you laughed, wiping away tears that had fallen. Jack laughed hard at that. You hugged him, letting him know you didn’t hate him. He wrapped an arm around you. “I’m sorry (Y/N).” You pulled away from the hug. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras x reader #nhl fanfic #anaheim ducks imagine #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras angst #hockey imagine #hockey fic

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kenananamin · 6 months

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I LOVED your girl dad nanami hcs. This isn't a request but I was wondering like, imagine (I whole heartedly agree he's a girl dad) reader and nanami they had three sons. Don't get me wrong. Nanami LOVES his boys so much. And all of them are such gentlemen. He's raising them so good. Exact copies of him in manners and in looks some ways. The eldest son has his blonde hair, the middle son has his eyes and the youngest one has his highschool emo hair. BUT (now to the fun part) Reader is pregnant again and this time it's a girl.!!!!!! How would he react? And the boys too. Secretly they've also been wanting a little sister (that's so cute 😭)

Now, how do you think Nanami would react? I think he would cry, like legit he would. He's always wanted a baby girl. This is like a dream come true for him. And and the baby girl after being born looks exactly like him, hair, eyes, nose EVERYTHING.

While the boys take more after Nanami regarding their personality, meaning they're mature for their age and very well mannered. But his baby girl takes after reader's playful nature and is just so so precious and sweet. Of course she has good manners too. But she's like everyone's princess in the family.

Her brothers love her and are protective of her. And she's just so playful and adorable that no one can get mad even if she pulls a prank or messes something up at home.

It's like, even when Nanami tries to scold her (he never would) or discipline her, she would just giggle and and grab his arms and legs and just hold onto it (IM LITERALLY.. THIS IS TOO SWEET) A heavy sigh escapes Nanami and he smiles knowing his daughter has him wrapped around her fingers and he can never ever even try to talk to her in a stern manner. She's just so innocent.

Sorry sorry this was so Long 😭 even if you don't reply to it, I hope you enjoyed reading this at least.

i'm so happy you liked my girl dad nanami hcs!! thank you for reading it! 😭 and honestly while writing it, i was thinking of the exact opposite too, boy dad nanami but he finally gets his little princess at the end 🥹

so here are my hcs for nanami as a boy dad while secretly hoping the next one is a girl, and the boys praying their next sibling is a girl

is excited to have a boy as their first born, he thinks about the things he will teach him and how nanami plans to show his son how to treat women RIGHT

tells you that he's got this covered and his fiery passionate eyes tell you he indeed does got it

decorates the baby's room with old action figures and comic books/manga from his childhood

rewatches his old cartoons and shows to make sure they're appropriate for his son to watch with him

tells everyone how he has your eyes and his hair and lowkey brags that it's the prettiest combination

is excited to buy mini sneakers and baseball caps but stops with the shoes bc baby outgrows them in 0.2 seconds

likes to carry his son like a football bc it makes him giggle his heart out and nanami knows you're looking at his bicep 👀

is ECSTATIC when you're pregnant again and immediately wants to know the gender. he's excited for his son to have a partner in crime and is happy you saved all the things your first son used (nanami is very very pro-hand me downs and wants to see those tiny sneakers used again)

tells his son to kiss your tummy throughout your pregnancy bc he wants them to be super close from the beginning

on that note, nanami kisses and hugs his boys all the time to start to show them they can be a tough guy and like hugs and kisses just like daddy and not be embarrassed about any of it

is brought to tears almost every time he passes by the baby's room and the eldest is holding the baby's hand through the crib railings telling him "i love you baby"

likes seeing the eldest's patience when the baby is learning how to share and rewards the eldest with ice cream and tickles

tells his boys to open every door for mommy and hold it open if there's someone behind them

plays a little rough with the boys when they're play wrestling but they're all scolded by mommy when someone ends up crying (nanami was poked in the eye by a tiny finger and the boys thought they made their daddy cry)

buys his boys barbies so they can create a realistic fantasy world when they play. the eldest eventually puts the barbies in charge most of the time

nervous when you're taking the next pregnancy test and quietly hopes it's a girl. the eldest wants a girl too and the soon-to-be middle child just thinks it's another regular thursday aka he does not care yet lol

sighs when the doctor says it's another boy, he's happy bc they have everything they would need for another boy but he really was hoping for a girl since this might be their last child

last boy ends up being the blend of both kids, patient and quiet, but can be excited and loud if he's really into something

dedicates special quiet time w the boys to teach them to listen and appreciate quiet activities

takes his boys out to play sports every weekend to give mommy a break from so many boys and chants random phrases with them in the car

make his boys help with dinner, clean-up, and laundry bc he wants them to appreciate everything that's done for them

tells the boys to come into the room while you get ready for date night so they can see everything you do from deciding what to wear to hair to makeup, etc etc. this is when the boys get a front row seat to seeing how much dad appreciates and loves mom

then pulls them into the closet to show them everything he does to get ready bc a man needs to put in just as much effort

has coffee dates w his boys where he'll get his tea or black coffee and the boys will get a lemonade and their cake pops and they can drive around

hugs and kisses each one of his boys when he gets home which in turn makes the boys get used to being affectionate with each other

buys his boys flowers when he takes you yours. he wants to be the first one to ever them their flowers. this leads to the boys going outside to bring back a flower, dandelion, leaf, or rock to their dad. dad now has a collection of random things in his spot of the garden

weekly sit-down w the boys to talk about emotions to teach them how to put their feelings into words

does not explicitly tell his sons to kneel for women but his sons see how dad always kneels for you if you're sitting somewhere low (CUE TO EP 12 W NOBARA AND NITTA, THIS IS CANON)

is in shock when the boys come in for an intervention-like meeting asking why they don't have a sister yet and when they can get one

is impressed with how the eldest pulls him aside and shows him the plan to have a younger sister now so that he can have enough time w her before he leaves for college (eldest is not older than like 10 lmao but he's a planner just like dad)

shows you the plan and is in love with how everyone wants a girl

is very happy to keep trying 🫣😮‍💨

all the boys go w you to get the letter w the gender of the baby and start to plan a big gender reveal bc they all have a "feeling"

all start to cry uncontrollably when the inside of the gender reveal closet is full of pink clothes, blankets, and toys. someone's on the floor (eldest), someone is running laps around everything and everyone (middle), someone is carefully touching your tummy (nanami) and another is asking if they can name her like their favorite anime character (youngest)

all start reading and researching how to raise a girl and are visibly stressed yet excited

nanami starts creating lists of cute clothes and can stay up all night imagining a giggling little girl on his shoulders

cries if he's by himself and in his feelings bc he's so overwhelmingly happy w his life and kids, feels like the luckiest man

goes to lowe's to get paint to prepare his princess's room and the boys are in overalls and ready to paint when he gets home

imagines a little girl joining their coffee dates and the boys giving her their mud pies and holding her hand everywhere they go

sees the most beautiful little girl and is blinded by the love his kids have for each other

will pass by the baby's room in the middle of the night to see all 3 boys sleeping on the floor right next to her crib. grabs his pillow and joins his boys on the floor

buys a new baby kangaroo for the boys to decorate and carries their princess EVERYWHERE

has to break up arguments the boys start to have over who gets to push the stroller this time

the boys dress her up in their old sneakers and baseball caps

all wear tutus and tiaras while they patiently wait for her to pour them their cup of tea during tea time

the two youngest boys teach her how to get someone in a headlock to defend herself and nanami and eldest have to step in

eldest then secretly teaches her men's weak spots and plans to take her to a self defense class eventually

babygirl is always giggling and is so playful, her and mommy have got these boys wrapped around their fingers

nanami is always swaying whenever he’s standing still bc babygirl attaches herself to his leg and he swings her back and forth for as long as he’s standing straight. making a sandwich? swinging the baby on his leg. brushing teeth? swinging the baby on his leg. working on his standing desk? swinging the baby on his leg.

the bros get defensive if someone tries to scold her but they’ll pull her aside themselves and tell her why it was wrong. nanami stands outside the door and listens to them

nanami still asks his boys to go out and at least two suggestions from the boys include the little princess

nanami and boys for sure stare at mommy and princess in awe at random times

they all know the girls have the deciding vote and they run the whole house. and they love it 😌

nanami is so girl dad coded BUT he would be the best dad in general. he for sure needs a little girl somewhere in the mix but he’d win the fatherhood award for sure

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ktsumu · 1 month

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when you meet his family (cousins, parents, sister, brother, and brothers*) warnings: drinking

Right from the first night you kissed him, Issei's dreamt of this going every way possible.

He's thought of it being a mess, defending your honour after a misunderstanding with a cousin or something, taking your hand and squeezing it before waking up with a shiver.

He's thought of it going fucking fantastic, with his mom liking you a bit more than she probably likes him, calling you one of her own and ushering you out of his grasp to ask what wine you like.

And he's though of it going neither way, sat in the middle of neutrality, where they simply decided you were a fine choice for their fine son and that was going to be that.

He didn't cover this.

It's not that he didn't cover it, actually, it's that he can't categorize it. It doesn't fall into any of those three categories he so meticulously dreamt up— you don't fit any of them.

It was decided you'd finally meet his family at his sister's engagement party. He remembers explaining the game plan over a lunch date— all the attention's on them, so you won't have to be as nervous. Good, yeah?

(You snorted, telling him sure, whatever and asking what he was gonna order.)

You both prepared for this like you're in the finals, drew up your game plan on a locker room whiteboard and put your hands in the middle. You wore your finest backyard BBQ-appropriate attire and told Issei to at least add a belt, rolled your eyes when he said he liked your Sunday best.

He told you didn't need to worry about that, that you'd look 'fucking hot' in anything, but you ignored him entirely.

(He didn't mind, 'cause he got a good look when you you were walking away.)

He doesn't even know why he was nervous, now.

The two of you set foot in that house for maybe ten seconds before being overwhelmed with the love inside, warm hands patting his back and names he's heard a million times introducing themselves to you for the first.

He found himself watching how his people swooned over you, gushing over your name and how it suits you— he thinks he remembers doing the same, at least once.

He found himself watching you from across the room as you left his side— divide and conquer, 'Sei —with his mom, grinning as you whirled your head around to decide who you'd answer to first. Grinning as he punched his cousin's gut, the one hanging off of his shoulders and asking how much he paid you.

("Nothing, dickwad."

"Bullshit. How?"

"Magic. You'll never know.")

He found himself relaxing his shoulders when you all went outside, taking a bottle from someone tall enough to ruffle his hair and taunt about how big he's gotten, taking a drink when you met his eyes.

You smiled, and all the worry he's had for the last week disappeared in one fell swoop.

He introduced you to his parents, his sister, her fiancé— his sister was half in the bag and said something about how he talks about you more than anything else, but it wasn't anything you didn't know.

His dad clapped him on the shoulder and pointedly said he's glad he's settled down, but no one can hold him to the man he was in university.

He's pretty sure his mom wanted you to stay the night.

He introduced you to his little brother, who— for the first time that evening —looked up from his phone to blink twice and say you were a stunner. Call me if Issei does you wrong, too.

(He flipped him off and nudged you the other way.)

The wad of cousins that are around your age told you all about a childhood with Issei, of his darkest secrets, raised brows all around when you simply said he told you already.

Safe to say they approved.

Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.

Judgement day was more of how he introduced you to his boys more than anything else. Because he knew that, if anyone was gonna be scarily honest, it was gonna be them.

Makki knew you already— he's around Issei's apartment too much not to know you. It helped to have someone in your corner in talking you up to Tooru and Hajime.

Iwa greeted you with a warm handshake, already armed with harmless questions. He knew where you were from, but he asked you like Issei didn't spill everything after a week of knowing you. He knew how you met Issei, but he asked you like he didn't.

Tooru hugged you, and his questions had an intense lean. Why Issei? What'd you see in him first? If you could pick one thing about him that you love the most, what is it? And don't say anything below the belt!

(That was the end of the onslaught. Hajime grabbed him by the scruff and told him to just stop talking.)

Now it's nearing seven, and the party's winding down.

There's a fire burning and everyone's figuring out a way to crowd around it. His backyard's never been big, but his family's never been either— crammed together shoulder to shoulder, hands on someone's knees when they laugh.

You're off with his sister again, figuring out how much you have in common while Issei prepares to have you stolen away from here for the rest of his life. He doesn't really mind it.

He's slumped back in a lawn chair he used to nap in when he was a kid, paint peeling and the wood probably too old for him, a bottle of beer in hand that he swirls nice and slow. Makki and the others sit on either side, legs kicked up with twin drinks. Makki kicks Issei's to bring him back.

Brothers.*

"So," he drawls.

"Better be good, Makki."

"Good?" Makki shares a glance with Iwa and Tooru—they look equally as buzzed, equally as pleased. "I think you're set for life, man."

There's a quiet laughter amongst the three of them, Tooru even nudges his shoulder when he looks back at him, hanging off of Hajime's neck. The four of them are rarely serious, which is how Issei knows so well when they mean something.

"Think so?"

"Know so. That's your fucking match, dude."

Hajime scoffs from the side. "Never thought I'd see the day."

Issei snorts, taking a slow drink. "Still bitter and single, I see."

"I just congratulated you five minutes ago!" he defends, hiding behind the mouth of his bottle. "Fuck,"

"It's okay, Iwa, you'll do great when you learn to talk to people at the gym!"

"I don't even wanna hear it from you Tooru—get off my fuckin' back,"

"Girls, stop fighting."

Chatter drowns into the back of his mind when you walk into it, just a simple look making you rule it alone. You're smiling at him. The smile that he finds so easy to stare at, one that is unequivocally yours.

He offers you one back— his is more crooked, but that's just how it is. He never really noticed until you told him how much you love it, now he tries a little harder.

"You know," Tooru's singsong tone brings Issei back to the bubble, "now that you've introduced us all, that'll should you guys, next."

Issei follows his finger to where your hands cradle your sister's engagement ring, entirely not your style but still beautiful. He grins, because he knows enough to know you'd like something else.

"Uh, okay, slow down maybe?"

"Why do you take everything so seriously, Iwaa?"

The thought makes him feel wonderfully sick. Butterflies, thunderstorms, whatever else in his gut. The sight of a ring near your hand makes him grin.

"Yeah," Issei agrees, head tilting as he watches you come back to him. "Guess it will be."

(The three of them share a look.)

"What're you guys talking about?" you ask, taking the hand that lures you into Issei's lap. You settle into the spot you've practically molded for yourself, arm reaching around to comb your fingers through the curls on the back of his head. "What'd I miss?"

Issei leans back to get a good look at you. "Nothin,' just catching up."

You scan over the four of them— they've all got that look that says they're up to no good, but you think that's the effect of the group.

"Uh-huh."

Issei can't categorize tonight into one of his three genres of dreams he's had. It's not that it wasn't amazing, it's that it was more than that.

He hadn't thought about bringing you home, and leaving a piece of you there. He hadn't thought about bringing a piece of it home with you. He can feel it in his lap, and he wants to ask you right here.

Makki huffs a laugh, giving Issei a little wink behind your back.

"So," he drawls, "I forget—what'd you see in him, again?"

"Oh, not this."

#sorry this has no plot I just love him #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #kit writes

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Home : bat!family x bat!sister

Summary: no one gets to offend my siblings and father. No one but me. I'll make sure of it.

***

Maybe it was a bad idea to apply for that Erasmus program and leave her brothers and adoptive father alone for whole three months. Sure, studying abroad, expanding knowledge, learning language and customs was an amazing experience, but it came with the cost. The price of being in fear that her family would get themselves in trouble, pain, fight they could not recover from.

The first two weeks of her adventure was the worst, since she was waking up at most random night hours, ready to jump into fight, those vigilantes instincts and habits kicking in.

Those were the nights when she was turning and tossing in her bed unable to close an eye and in result sneaking out her dorm room and walk around the campus like the ghost. The quietness and peacefulness of her surroundings at the academy were so different from those she knew in Gotham, it was almost disturbing.

There was no denying that Y/N was the smartest in the family, even Tim admitted it once (obviously not while talking to her, but she overheard his conversation with Bernard) but at times like this she was second-guessing her choices.

Due to her specific upbringing and family background she also never managed to form any deep connection with her fellow students, preferring to stay by herself, focus on the task and putting a lot of work into expanding her knowledge and skills in technology. She never complained, but from other people’s perspective she was an eremite. Kind, polite with perfect manners when someone asked her for something or while working in group, but still highly reserved. Just like her adoptive father, whose relation to she was trying to keep a secret. And it worked up to the day when one of the lecturers accidentally called her “Miss Wayne” in front of the whole class. The second he did it the air in the auditorium froze. She might have been in different country, but for God’s sake she was studying technology, of course everyone heard about the Wayne Enterprises and the Bruce Wayne.

“You’re his daughter?” one of the boys in the lower row turned around and eyed her suspiciously

“Yes. Adoptive one.”

“Of course. He’s well known for taking kids in, right? Seems like some sort of complex or maybe even a disease” he smirked and it made the girl clench her fist. Her relationship with Bruce might have been rocky, but no one except her and her brothers were allowed to judge and offend him.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” she hissed, eyeing the guy with ice cold gaze

“Miss Y/L/N! Mister Olsen! Please calm down and sit down!” the teacher tried to make up for his mistake but it was far too late for that.

“You misspelled my name once, might as well keep calling me Wayne now.” the tone of her voice matched the gaze. She was not going to let the guy easily, but getting in trouble with the dean was not a part of her plan. “Now, can we continue with the lecture? I don’t know about anyone else in her, but speaking for myself I would love to actually learn something useful.”

***

Y/N was the middle child. Younger than Dick and Jason, older than Tim and Damian which placed her literally halfway in the family. Because of that she was a mix of responsibility and carelessness, doing her own thing, not always the right way, but still capable of getting away with a lot more than the others. Not as family oriented as Dick, feeling a bit overshadowed by Jason, highly competitive with Tim and more independent and individualistic than Damian. Still, even despite her “boss bitch” attitude, she was sandwiched between her brothers which made her the best negotiator and mediator in the family. Y/N also had a strong sense of fairness and morality and would always try her best to do the right things. Objectively, not subjectively. And making fun of her family was not one the things she could forget. However, before taking any action she had to gather intel, figure out what the guy knew and then come right at him.

***

Waiting till the end of the class was probably the greatest torture she ever had to endure, every minute stretching into infinity and when it was over the sense of relief almost made her drop the plan. Almost.

“I’m not done with you, Olsen.” she was faster to the door, stopping her potential victim from getting away.

“You want more, Wayne?”

“Please. Hit me with your best shot. What is your problem with my family, exactly?”

“Let me think” he tapped his chin. “There are so many. Like for instance, your oldest brother. What was his name again? Oh, right! Dick. Suits him quite well, doesn’t it. A prick, if you ask me. Definitely a show-off with no skills.” He scoffed “Shall I continue?”

“ Please. You got like three more people to gossip about.”

“The second in line, Jason, right? Oh, the unhinged one. Violent, mocking, thinking he is better than anyone else around, when in reality he’s just a lost, scared child. Probably a dumbass too.”

“Pretty sure he would agree with that. Now what about Tim and Damian?”

At this point Olsen was getting a bit surprised that the girl in front of him was still unfazed. Her calmness, a sign of silent inside fury making him slightly uncomfortable. Not enough to stop however.

“Drake…..” the name rolled of his tongue while the boy was wondering what words to choose “oh, he’s the gay one, right? Such a shame that the renowned Wayne family has someone like that as a member. Bet your father would never take him in, if he knew. A fairy becoming the next CEO of his renowned company. How ironic!”

“Hm.” Oh, Y/N was so much like Bruce at times and it showed in the least expected moments.

Damn that girl! How could it not make her angry?

“And …… Damian, the only biological child. Absolutely maladjusted and unaware of social norms and boundaries. Tell me, how was it like to have your youngest brother violate your boundaries and personal space?”

“It was. ….educatory. Just like it was with everything you just said. You presented yourself as someone with some serious psychological issues and possibly an unhealthy interest in my family’s life. So thank you, it truly was illuminating.”

***

“What the hell did you do Y/N?” a very alerted Dick appeared on the other side of the screen

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The girl sighted and fell onto the cushions bringing the computer onto her lap to see her brother better

“Don’t lie to me now, sis.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Bruce has been on the phone for the last fifteen minutes and from what I figured it’s about something that happened on the campus.”

“The only thing happening on the campus are students who skip classes.” She mumbled “maybe except that one time when one of the boys lost some stupid bet and blew up the fountain as some sort of punishment. That was funny.”

A little grunt was heard on Dick’s side and for a second he disappeared from the screen.

“Dick?”

“Sorry, I had a little interruption.” He rubbed his forehead “Now, back onto what you did…..”

“Did you say that someone blew the fountain?” third face appeared on the screen in the corner, taking over the conversation.

“Hello, Jason.”

“Hi sis. Maybe I should have joined you in your academic career. Seems like you have a lot of fun there. Besides, I never really finished school, since you know…. I died.”

“We know.” Y/N and Dick said in unison

“Always a good opportunity to remind you, right?” he grinned “Now, sis, tell me, how was it going full rogue on fellow student? I gotta admit I’m proud of you here.”

“So that’s what this is about?” Dick’s eyes grew wider than ever “I;m gonna ask you once again, Y/N. what did you do?”

“Nothing permanent.”

“What…..?”

“Cut her some slack, Grayson.”

“Look who decided to join us.” Y/N smirked “improved your computer skills much, Damian?”

“I got tired of being left out.”

“Since when do you care about the group?”

“Leverage, sis. Knowledge is power, I thought you knew that.”

“Ok, that is enough!” Dick finally lost his patience “I’m trying to have a conversation with my little sis here. Both of you, get out of the line!”

“Mhm, keep dreamin’ Dickhead.”

“For once I agree with Todd.”

“You have no right to…..”

“Guys…..” Y/N tried to mitigate them, but deep inside she enjoyed their bantering. It was a while since she experienced it and only now realized how familiar it was.

“I was here first!” Dick yelled “And I’m the oldest”

“No one cares Grayson! You are a Bludhaven resident now. Just because you visit the manor does not mean you can keep Y/N busy using the wayne’s devices!”

“Don’t you have someone to kill in the crime alley, Jay?”

“Unlike you, I succeeded in all my latest missions.”

“Is that what you call coming back to your safe house bloodied and injured. You were on the verge of death!” Damian smirked “you were absolutely inept, that’s not a success.”

“You were what, now?!” Y/N shrieked. Her second oldest brother was sometimes too careless.

“It was not that bad, Y/N, I swear. And how the fuck do you know about it, demon?”

“I have my ways.”

“I would suspect Drake of spying on me, but you?”

“Speaking of the devil, I’m surprised Tim hasn’t already join us.” Dick muttered

“Oh, he did.” Y/N pointed out

“WHAT?” her brothers cried. Now there was another one fighting for her attention and it was not a secret that Tim was her favorite making the situation harder.

“I did.” Tim chuckled “Well, to tell the truth Y/N let me in the channel. We have our ways with technology. Something none of you could ever fully understand. “

“Of course not….”

“Cheer up, Dami. You can’t monopolize all the areas.”

“I would beg to differ.”

“Ok, everyone hold up here. I think we lost the point of the conversation. The thing was that Bruce was on the phone, probably taking to the dean about….”

“Y/N played a little prank on her classmate, is that right?” of course Tim was the one who everything best.

“He deserved it.”

“Y/n…..”

“Stop using the big brother voice on me! It’s not going to work!”

“How about we use Damian’s youngest one?” Dick teased

“I refuse to be used in this….”

“SHUT UP DAMIAN!” Dick and Jason shouted together and shared a murderous look between one another. Now they were both desperate to find out what happened since Tim would rather die than spill the bean. It was infuriating. They were the older brothers! This had to mean something.

“Ok, that’s it.” Damian stood up and the view of the empty chair in the place where his face should be was highly disturbing.

“That is not good.” Y/N said out loud something that all of them already knew. Her presumptions turned out to be right a second later when the shouting and yelling reverberated through the speakers and a blur of black and green rushed into Dick’s room.

“hey, I want to join the fight too!” Jason started up and with a speed, Wally West could be jealous of involved in the mix of limbs and screams.

“Wait! I though Dick was in Bludhaven! Tim?”

“Not today. We’re all in the manor.”

“And you idiots were talking to me through four different computers?”

“Are you actually surprised?”

“On second thought, not at all.” She sighed. It’s a good thing you are the reasonable one here…..”

“There you are, Timmy” now the situation has turned as it was Dick who appeared in the door of Tim’s bedroom “you are not getting out of this. If you want Y/n to yourself you have to fight me.”

“And me!” Jason tackled Dick to the ground with a loud thump

“Losers!” Damian jumped over their bodies and came right at Tim

Because of their actions, Y/N was the only one who noticed two men stepping from the shadows and exchanging some words. Apparently Bruce wasn’t capable of putting the boys in their places and asked Alfred to try this instead. And a single grunt from the butler did a miracle as all of them stood up and started explaining and apologizing. Funny as it was, Y/N knew that with Bruce’s arrival she was heading straight towards preaching from her father.

“Y/N.”

“Hello Bruce.”

“Did you break his arm?”

“You broke his arm?” Dick was halfway out but turned back immediately

“No.” Y/n shook her head “I broke his arm and hurt his legs.”

“Don’t forget that you also demolished his dorm room.”

“That wasn’t me. That was….”

“Did you go at him as a vigilante? Wow! Way to go, sis. Now I truly am proud of you.”

“Ok, both of you, out!” Bruce lost the rest of his patience pushing Dick and Jay away. “Now that we are alone…….” he sighed deeply closing the door tight

“I;m not sorry.”

“Oh, I know. And I’m not mad, because I’m sure you had a reason to do it. So tell me, why?”

“you…. you want to know ?”

“Of course. Look Y/n, I’m aware I won’t get a father of the year cup from you, but I care all right? Did that boy hurt you and you took retaliation? Just tell me….”

“He was talking shit about our family.”

“And you felt the urge to protect the Wayne’s honor?” Bruce smirked “this is so not like you.”

“Honor, my ass. We’ve lost that ages ago, Bruce. The only thing I was protecting was my sole privilege of mocking you. No one else is allowed to do it.”

“I’ll be sure not to tell your brothers that you miss them. “

“That would be most welcome.”

“And you have to know that we don’t miss you either, y/n.” father and daughter’s gazes met and they both nodded in silent agreement, right corners of their mouths lifting almost unnoticeable. “You coming to visit next week?”

***

Something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong and that tingling sensation became unbearable the second she climbed the manor’s stairs and reach for the doorknob with a heartrate so fast it would send anyone else straight into cardiac arrest. Y/N however kept her cold blood, focusing on what may happened inside and considering her options and strategies for a potential fight.

She could not expect that the moment she opened the door four figures would jump out from the shadows making the noise that would bring the dead from behind the grave. It startled her and as a result she stumbled back, hitting the wardrobe and making it shake. She could not expect that on said wardrobe there would be packets and packets of paint and that those would fall down straight on her making her look like some abstractionism painting.

“I hate you all.” She muttered while her brothers run away in four different directions.

“Welcome home, miss Y/N” Alfred approached her with a tissue so she could at least wipe the paint from her eyes.

“Home.” She whispered “Yes, it definitely feels like it.”

It was good to be back.

But she was still going after them. .....

Later. When they would least expect it.

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lure-of-writing · 2 months

Text

Kick your ass

Note: Hi everybody long time no see! I would assume that is doesn't come as a surprise when I say being a flight attendant leaves no room for writing much less doing anything else but sleeping but here we are after what I'm sure can be counted as forever. Anyways I feel like this story is when your partner just isn't getting it right and it's driving you crazy and you get a little ( or a lot) sassy. I'm so happy to have finally written something in so long and I hope you love it!

Word count-2.3K

Warnings- none unless you count cussing

Summary: Lately all your mate does is piss you off. And don't get it wrong you love him but you are more than ready to kick his ass.

You love Azriel with all of your heart, your whole being if you're being completely honest but lately he has done nothing but piss you off. It first started with him going on a mission during the middle of your cycle. Since the moment you knew Azirel was your mate you gave clear explicit instructions that Azriel was to be no more than five feet away from you during that time of the year unless it was for something of the utmost importance and could not be handled by anyone else. Imagine your surprise when he started grabbing his leather clothing after he had made you breakfast and had gotten you comfortable in your bed that could fit three grown Illyrian men.

“And just where do you think you're going?” Azriel could feel like distaste dripping off of your words and hitting him in the back as he was faced away from you. It was no secret that Azriel loved you more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy but when you were on your period you could be a handful and more often than not you tested his never ending patience until you actually found the end of its supply. With a slow release of his breath he turns around to find you perched on the edge of the bed throwing an angry glare in his direction. “Listen baby” the shadowsinger slowly approached you like you were a wild animal ready to strike at any moment and honestly that comparison isn’t too far off with the way you look like you're ready to rip his head off of his shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to, yeah?” he kneels before you gently rubbing comforting circles on your bare thigh while giving you a soft smile reserved for only you. “Is the information you retrieve from this mission of that great value?” he watched as you paused waiting for the answer that both he and you already knew. “Is there no one else beneath you who could do it instead?” And while yes there were people beneath him that could handle this task, Azriel is a perfectionist and would like to make sure things get done right. “Is it so important that you must leave your mate during their cycle knowing the excruciating pain I endure? It's so important you must put this before your mate?”

Azriel knew this conversation was a losing battle on his end but he also knew if he would like to be able to sleep next to you tonight that he must offer something to make up for it. “No my love, there isn’t anyone else who can handle this as they are all busy at the moment but don’t worry I will be back before dinner.” Even as you glowered down at him all the shadowsinger could think about was two things. One, he is definitely in trouble and two, how stunning you look. “I don’t care if no one else can do it, get that brute of your brother to handle it.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way as if to send Cassian on this mission yourself and Azriel couldn’t help but lay his head on your legs and laugh and your attitude.

The next time Azriel made you mad was during a family dinner with the inner circle. At first with all the new people, family dinners were a little awkward and unbearable mostly due to Cassians pinning over Nesta and her constant blatant rejection but also because of the middle sister's fascination with your mate. Did she know he was your mate? Yes. Did that stop her from having a crush? Absolutely not.

As you were getting ready to head down to Feyres and Rhysands new house you had made it clear he needed to put his foot down and tell Elain he was not and would never be interested in a relationship with her otherwise you would handle it yourself and Azriel knew that meant you would become your own nasiter version of Nesta and you would tear her down until she couldn’t even look you in the eyes. It may not be the best way to handle her crush but until Azriel when it came to dealing with people who had a crush on him you tended to leave your manners at the door.

Everything was going well at the river house until you walked into the dinning room with Amren and spot your mate seated next to Elain on one side and Mor on the other side. The whole group could feel the shift in the temperature as it dropped and you gave a cold and pointed stare to your mate. Possessing the same powers as Rhysand you barged into his mind “What the hell is this?” without responding he gently shakes his head in a not right here manner and pleading with his eye for you to just let this go. Silently you take your seat across the table from him and sit next to your high lady and Amren. For the rest of the dinner you say nothing as your pin Azriel to his seat as your seething anger radiates off of you and hits him like a tidal wave over and over again never once giving him a break.

“Y/n” Azriel had waited until after you had taken your bath and done your fifteen step skin and body care route and had gotten into bed with your current book you picked to read before approaching you. He gently sat down on the bed next to your legs and hopped you don;t make him sleep on the couch tonight. “I know you're upset with what happened at dinner but it just happened one minute I was talking with Mor and the next Elain was ushering us all in to eat dinner and she just happened to sit next to me.” As he gave his explanation of the night's events you had closed your book and laid it in your lap and nodded silently in understanding waiting for your mate to be done talking. “Is that so?” you asked in a thoughtful way. Now Azriel has been with you long enough to know that tone of voice and that statement should strike the fear of every god into him and it definitely did. “Yes, I promise that's what happened.” Once again you nodded in understanding before tilting your head to the side with a confused look on your face. “So if that's all that happened then why would Elain feel comfortable sitting next to you knowing that you have a mate who cannot stand her crush on you? And didn’t I tell you to make sure Elain knew in no uncertain terms that her fantasy of having a relationship with you was nothing more than a fantasy and if she tried I would kill her?” Azriels heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to you talk, he had known that there was something he needed to do but as soon as he entered the house Cassian gave him a cup of a mysterious alcohol and Rhysand had beckoned him over to fill him in on the status of a mission one of his spies were on. And before he knew it Morrgian had whisked him away to talk about her journey on the continent and the information she had obtained while there and the next thing he knew he was sat between the girl he used to have a crush on and the girl who currently has a crush on him. Candidly he knew he was fucked.

“Let's go with your version of events like you said they happened shall we? I am going to assume you got too busy with everyone to tell Elain to knock off her childish behavior, which you would have done in a much nicer way because you are you. Then why didn’t you say anything to her when I walked in or better yet why didn’t you get up to sit next to me instead?” As a professional interrogator your mate knew you had just walked him into a trap and for a split second he wondered why you didn’t have his job instead. “Baby you know both of those options would have been rude and probably would have ruined the dinner.” Nodding in fake understanding you inspect your nails giving it a brief second before responding “And you are the shadowsinger of the night court. One of the most feared males in Prythian and you couldn’t muster up the courage to say something to Elain? How ironic is that.” You scoffed and shook your head in a surprised manner and needless to say he ended up sleeping on the couch that night.

The last straw was watching Azriel train the valkyries and watching them not so subtly drool over your mate. You wouldn’t be one to blame them if they had done so in a respectful way but they were bluntly flirting with your mate right in front of you. One thing you loved about Azriel was how secure he was in your relationship. No one could make him look in the direction that wasn’t you, if someone was trying to flirt with him he didn’t register it unless it was you. And normally you wouldn’t have a problem with that except three girls were currently trying to make a pass at him and he had no reaction. Most would take that in a positive way but not you, you wanted him to shut that down the second it started and make a clear line in the sand on what was expected from the student-teacher relationship amongst him and the Valkyries he was training. “Azriel!” You had barely shouted his name from across the training platform on the house of wind but it felt as if you had. He turned around to see you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest and face set in a scowl while glaring at him. Turing to look at the trainees before him he instructs them on what to do next before quickly making his way to you. “Yes my love?” he asks in such a hushed and concerned tone that you almost forget what you called him over to yell at him about, but over his shoulder you see one of the girls check him out and suddenly you remembered all over again what it was that you needed to speak to him about. “You need to tell your students to stop checking you out and to close their mouths before they start drooling all over themselves.” Your mate's face scrunched in confusion. Azriel may be an excellent observer but when it came to himself not so much. He couldn’t see his own beauty that was hand crafted from the gods themselves, he couldn;t see how his quiet and standoffish personality drew people in, he couldn't see all of the things that you loved about him could all be the reason that other people lust after him.

His shadows gave him a play by play of what his students had been doing while he wasn’t focused on each person in particular and how you had been brewing in your anger in the corner by yourself. As soon as you put on your fighting leathers this morning Azriel knew he was doomed as it was your ritual to fight each other everyday during training but seeing you in the corner pissed that other people had been checking him out brought his demise to a whole nother level. Azriel subtly glanced down at where your arms were crossed over your chest and he thanked the gods for your outfit. “You sound a little upset, my love.” Once more you send him one of your signature pointed looks “Yeah you would be upset also if the roles were reversed.” He shrugs slightly while tilting his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his body. “You’re not wrong I would be upset because nobody gets to look at you that way unless it's me.” He pulls you even closer to his body until you’re chest to chest with him and he bends down to whisper in your ear. “Beat me in a match and I will make sure they know I’m no one else's but yours. I'll let you claim me anyway you want, hell I’ll even let you do it in front of them if that will make you feel better.” Both you and Azriel knew the game he was playing at but neither of you cared, well him less than you. You pulled away slightly to look up at your mate and see the smirk resting upon his very kissable looking lips “Sounds like a deal to me because I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.”

The shadowsinger followed behind you with a laugh and he shook his head in amusement while taking in your figure from behind. He watched as you got into your fighting stance and waited for him to do the same. He held his hand up to signal you to give him a moment. Turning around to look at the Valkyries in training he gathered their attention without saying a word. “I think it's about time to see what the last remaining real valkyrie looks light during a fight and maybe then you can aspire to be a fraction of as good as my beautiful mate is.” He turned back around to see you glowing with confidence, determination and love, but also the want to make sure you won his bet. Gods he knew this was going to lead to some great sex after you kicked his ass and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more.

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