#I thought I would have to put more letters or numbers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1-imaginary-girl · 1 year ago

Text

Wolf Bite

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: During a fight between your friends and Klaus and his hybrids, you get bit. A certain someone appears later to help heal your wounds and complicate your feelings. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Violence, fluff

Word Count: 4850

Part 2

A/N: I have been obsessing over Klaus lately and thought I would share this passion with you guys. I haven’t seen TVD or TO in a while so I apologize if I get anything wrong about the lore. It doesn’t follow any canon plot, just inspired by Klaus healing Caroline’s bite.

You’re leaning against a wall in the Salvatore brothers’ house as the rest of your friends talk about their newest plan to threaten Klaus and his family. The idea seems foolish to you, but you know better than to voice your opinion. Ever since the Mikaelson clan moved to town, being a vampire has gotten a lot more complicated. You’re suddenly not so immortal when there’s a whole group of people out to get you and your friends.

You’ve also started to notice a shift in the group as Elena now has feelings for both Salvatores. You’re well aware that your presence has slowly started to go unnoticed and yet here you are again. You watch as the group argues about how to lure Klaus and co. to the woods where you’ll meet him.

“What if we send someone to his house to deliver the message?” Elena suggests. But Stefan shakes his head.

“No, it’s too risky,” he says.

“Not if we send someone with a white oak stake for protection,” Caroline says.

“That would ruin the plan,” Bonnie says. There’s a silence as the group thinks of a new idea. Until Damon speaks.

“What if we get Y/N to call him?” Damon says, looking at you for the first time today. Your eyes widen as the rest of the group now looks at you. As if they weren’t just ignoring you.

“What? N-no way,” you say, not prepared to be put on the spot.

“Come on, he’s clearly shown an interest in you. Now’s the time to use that,” he argues. It’s true. Ever since you first met, Klaus seems to have taken a liking to you. But you think the group’s making it a bigger deal than it is. You think he just does it as a way to annoy the group. Though why he chose you instead of someone like Caroline or Bonnie, you’ll never know.

“I don’t want to do that,” you say, not wanting to explain exactly why. You’re not even quite sure yourself. “Besides, it probably won’t work. I mean, I don’t even have his phone number.”

“Oh right,” Damon says, furrowing his eyebrows as you throw a retch in his plan.

“You could deliver the message in person,” Caroline suggests. Your jaw almost drops.

“Wait, so it’s too risky if someone else goes to the house, but not me?”

“Come on, he won’t hurt you,” Damon says. You’re beginning to think being a wallflower was the better option.

“We all have to help, Y/N,” Elena says. You choke on your words as you look around, seeing no one objecting to this plan.

“Wait, you guys my message spell!” Bonnie exclaims. Everyone turns to her and you are relieved to be out of the spotlight as you lean back against the wall. “I need paper, something to write with, and something of Klaus’s.”

Though you are currently mad at all of them, you decide you’re mad at Bonnie the least so you open your bag. You’re able to scrounge up the materials, even something of Klaus’s (you didn’t ask). With the necessary ingredients, Bonnie performs her spell and the written note lights on fire before quickly disintegrating. She opens her eyes.

“That should do it,” she says.

“We should go,” Elena says and everyone agrees.

†††

The group is waiting in the woods for Klaus to appear, as is expressed in the letter. Another argument broke out on the way here as to who will get the white oak stake as you only brought one to threaten Klaus with. The group didn’t want to risk any of the other stakes. In the end, Damon won the argument as he reminded Stefan his responsibility was to look out for Elena, which she did not like. The rest of you are armed with regular stakes just in case anything happens.

“When is he going to get here?” Caroline says, though no one answers as no one knows. “I mean, how can he even find us? We’re in the middle of the woods!”

“He can probably track us by seeking out Elena’s blood,” Damon says which angers Elena. Sometimes you feel bad for her being the only human amongst the group (other than Matt), and other times you envy her for it.

When the group is about ready to give up, you hear something coming. The other vampires can hear it too and you ready yourselves. Soon enough, Klaus stands before you with a smile on his face. “Well, well, isn’t this a nice surprise? I hadn’t realized we were pen pals,” the Original says. His eyes rake over the group and he perks up when he spots you. “Hello love.”

The others glance at you and, panicked to be on the spot again, you say, “Uh, hi,” with a small and awkward wave.

This causes Klaus’ smile to grow wider and seemingly more genuine, and you try to suppress the urge to blush. Although you don’t think your friends were pleased by that interaction.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Stefan says, bringing Klaus’ attention back to the group.

“Ah yes, the cryptic message,” Klaus says. “So, what is it that I must see? Truly, I’m dying to know.” You see Damon smirk.

“I wouldn’t act so cocky,” he says.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Klaus says with an entertained look on his face. His face changes, however, when Damon reveals the white oak stake. His cocky attitude shifts quickly to fear and anger. “Where did you get that?” he growls.

“Well it turns out when your sister burned down that bridge, she didn’t realize that other things were made from your precious oak tree,” Damon taunts. He’s exaggerating, of course, as there was only one other thing made from the tree. But Klaus still looks fearful.

“So what? You really think you can kill me with one stake?”

“We don’t intend to kill you. At least not now anyway,” Caroline says.

“We called you here as a threat. To tell you to leave Mystic Falls or else,” Stefan says with a calm smile on his face.

“Oh, and this isn’t the only stake. We wouldn’t risk bringing all of them with us just for you to break them,” Elena says.

“You’re bluffing,” Klaus sneers.

“Care to find out?” Damon asks. You can practically feel the steam of anger rolling off Klaus.

“How dare you threaten me,” Klaus says, his blue-green eyes turning a deadly shade of yellow.

“What are you going to do about it?” Damon says with a taunting smirk. Klaus’ face shifts and he smirks back.

“Why I’m so glad you asked,” he says. He then lets out a whistle and some of his hybrids emerge from the woods. You widen your gaze as you hold out your weapon, trying to assess the situation. The hybrids move in closer, and you can see the others preparing themselves. “Now, let’s try this again. Hand over the stake, and no one gets hurt.”

You thought the answer would be obvious. Sure, Klaus might be bluffing but you can’t kill that many hybrids. And what’s one lost stake anyway? However, you seemed to be the only one thinking that.

“No thanks,” Damon says. You look at him incredulously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Klaus says. As soon as Klaus advances, his hybrids pounce and the group is thrown into an attack. Your weapons will only slow the hybrids down, but your best hope is to get the upper hand and snap their necks to incapacitate them.

Damon and Klaus immediately face off. The rest of you prepare to face the small army of hybrids while Stefan protects Elena. One of the hybrids locks onto you and hisses before attacking you. You instantly try to hold the hybrid off and stab her, but you can feel her overpowering you in strength.

Still, you rely on your moves in combat to avoid any major injuries or worse, her bite. You manage to get the upper hand and stab her through the stomach, and while she’s slowed down, you move to behind her back and snap her neck, knocking her out for a good while.

You’re trying to catch your breath when you sense another hybrid coming at you too late. He pounces on you and you slam into the ground with him on top of you. You’re caught off guard and without your stake. When you try to move to fight back, the hybrid digs his teeth into your shoulder. A short scream rips through you, powered both by panic and pain.

Meanwhile, Klaus is fighting Damon when he hears the scream. He looks your way as he feared it was you, and the scene causes his eyes to widen. With a newfound urgency, Klaus faces Damon and quickly finds a way to snap his neck.

As you’re panicking from the bite, you feel the hybrid being pulled off of you and you see Klaus with a furious expression. The hybrid is very confused by his sire’s anger. You think you hear Klaus growl, “Not her,” before snapping their neck.

You’re shocked at what just happened all at once and remain on the ground, sitting up with wide eyes looking at Klaus. He looks away from the hybrid to meet your gaze and his eyes instantly soften. He looks concerned, though you’re not sure why. He makes a move to walk toward you but before you can say anything, Caroline rushes over to you.

She quickly puts herself between Klaus and you. “Stay away from her,” she hisses at him. Klaus’ expression shifts back to anger, and before you can explain to Caroline what’s going on, Klaus’s gaze flick from her to you and then he sprints away. Not just away from you, but he leaves the forest. The hybrids that haven’t been incapacitated follow.

You look after him, longing to talk to him and figure out why he saved you, when Caroline’s face comes into view. “Are you okay?” she asks while helping to pull you off the ground. You nod and you guess that’s enough for her because she walks towards the rest of the group.

You’re a bit stunned as Klaus seemed to show more compassion than your friend, but you merely shake off the exchange. From the woods, the group heads back to the Salvatore’s place. You trail behind them, your mind racing as you’re overly aware of the fact that a werewolf bit you. Not just a werewolf, but a hybrid. You haven’t told your friends about it because you don’t want to be a bother to them as that’s all you feel like you are these days.

On the way back, your mind wanders to the one person that seems to be on everyone’s minds these days. Klaus. You don’t know why he saved you, even from his own hybrid, but you want to thank him. You know you should hate him like the others do but for some reason every time that man looks at you, your stomach erupts into butterflies.

You feel awful for how you feel, you know all the harm he’s caused to your friends and not to mention the world, but you can’t help it. It doesn’t help that he pretends to be soft on you either. You haven’t told anyone about your feelings, whatever they are, for fear of persecution but you can’t stop thinking about him.

You arrive at the Salvatore’s and the group huddles in the living room for a quick debriefing of what just went down. All the while images of Klaus and your bite flash through your mind. You look at your shoulder and you can’t see the full damage as it’s covered by your shirt but you know it’s not good.

“How are you holding up, Damon?” Caroline asks teasingly. He glares at her and rolls his neck.

“Doing just great thanks,” he says.

“What the hell even happened?” Elena asks. “I mean, why did they just leave?”

“All I know is, one minute I’m holding my own against Klaus--” Damon says and to this you hold back rolling your eyes. Klaus must’ve been going easy on him, toying with him. “--and then he gets this raged look on his face and boom, lights out.”

“He went to Y/N,” Caroline says causing all of their eyes to stare at you again. You bite back your annoyance at her for bringing that on you.

“What happened?” Stefan asks while the rest of the group waits. The image of Klaus looking at you causes your face to heat up and you struggle to come up with a lie. You don’t want to tell them the truth when you yourself haven’t even gotten to the bottom of it.

“I-I don’t know,” you say. They still stare at you. “Maybe he was mad at me for harming his hybrids.”

“There were two knocked-out hybrids beside her,” Caroline adds. The group looks at you with a mix of shock and amazement.

“You knocked out two of them?” Damon asks with surprise and slight amusement. You don’t want to outwardly lie so you just kind of nod.

“And then he just left,” you say.

“It still doesn’t make sense. I mean, why target you specifically?” Bonnie asks.

“Maybe he’s miffed his lover betrayed him,” Damon says and your face turns beat red.

“W-What?! I am not his—” you burst out in surprise until someone cuts you off. No one even looks your way.

“Or maybe he’s planning something,” Elena suggests. The rest of them start diving into conspiracies but your mind is elsewhere. You suddenly feel drawn to look at your bite. The more you look at it, the more it’s like you can feel the venom pumping through your veins. Your heartbeat is suddenly too loud and you feel like you can’t breathe.

You don’t know if it has something to do with the venom or just your overall panic, but all of a sudden, the world goes black.

†††

Your eyes slowly open and your vision is blurry at first. Figures stand over you and after blinking a few times, you recognize your friends.

“She’s awake,” Elena says, as if everyone isn’t seeing it for themselves. You realize you’re lying on the Salvatore’s couch. You wonder how long you blacked out for.

“What the hell Y/N?!” Caroline instantly yells at you. You flinch at her volume but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why didn’t you tell us you got bit?”

At the reminder, you look back at the bite only to see that its gotten worse. You wince at the sight of it and face the group. You guess they discovered it when you passed out.

“I don’t know, I-I thought I could handle it,” you say, not wanting to admit the real reason. Most of them roll their eyes at you.

“Of course you couldn’t handle it!” Damon says. “You should have told us.”

I didn’t know you cared. You bite your tongue to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, losing interest in the conversation as you are now painfully aware of the venom from the bite.

“What are we going to do?” Bonnie asks. They begin to cut you out of the conversation even though they’re talking about you and you decide you can’t deal with this right now. You stand up from the couch, feeling a bit of a head rush before steadying yourself. This seems to draw their attention.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Stefan asks, as they all look at you with bewildered expressions.

“I’m going home,” you say and start to walk away. Unfortunately, they follow.

“You can’t just go home!” Caroline exclaims, reacting as if you just said you were going to the moon.

“Watch me,” you say, your frustration getting the better of you. You try to make your way towards the door but a few steps in you stumble and Stefan speeds over to steady you.

“Okay, we’ll take you home, alright?” he says and in that moment, you’re grateful for him. He turns to the rest of the group. “We can regroup at her place and brainstorm ideas there while keeping an eye on her.” The rest of the group seems to agree with the idea. In separate cars, the group drives over to your house.

Soon you’re pulling into your driveway. They’ve all been invited in before so entering isn’t a problem. With Stefan’s help, you climb the stairs and soon find yourself in your cozy bed. You wish you could just sleep away this problem but a sudden sharp pain from the wound reminds you that isn’t possible.

“So what now?” Elena asks as the group piles into your bedroom. It feels weird and you’re slightly uncomfortable with it but you keep quiet and just get under your inviting covers.

“Maybe we can ask Klaus for help?” Bonnie suggests. At this, Damon instantly scoffs.

“Yeah that sounds like him,” Damon says.

“Maybe he’ll do it for Y/N,” Caroline says. “He does have a soft spot for her.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough for him,” Stefan interjects. “We all know what he’s after.”

“No,” Damon says. “We finally have a real weapon against those Original assholes and I’m not just going to throw it all away for—”

“Damon,” Elena hisses and nudges him in the chest before nodding over to you. Once more, all eyes are on you and you don’t know what to do. Damon looks away, maybe feeling guilty for basically saying you’re not worth it.

“Why don’t we continue this conversation downstairs?” Caroline suggests. You once again wonder why they’re talking about this situation without you but you’re too tired and hurt to care.

“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Bonnie says and then the group filters out closing the door behind them.

Throughout the day a few of them check in on you every once and a while, barely giving you updates on if they’re going to find a cure. As your pain grows and the sky darkens, you start to think that maybe this is it. Maybe this is how you die. You never imagined it happening like this and your chest caves in at the thought of a final death but it’s looking more and more likely.

You’re not sure what time it is, but later in the night you hear a faint knock which sounds like it’s coming from your front door. You ignore it, not having the strength to answer it. You figure one of your friends will answer it. If they’re even home.

The knock sounds again, louder and more persistent, and you start to suspect that your friends have left. You take a deep breath as fear coils around your throat, constricting your breath. Your friends aren’t here and you’re going to die all alone before you even got to live. The knocking stops and you settle back into the silence.

Then a sound comes from your window. It sounds like…knocking? From your bed, you can’t see the outside since it’s too dark out. You wish your friends were here. Slowly, you climb out of bed and try to rally your strength in case you have to fight something or someone. As you walk over your confusion only grows.

There, perched on a branch from the tree outside your window, is Klaus Mikaelson. He gives you a wave and you hesitantly wave back. You approach the window cautiously before opening it.

“Um, can I help you?” you ask, trying to understand what you’re seeing. Hallucinations are a side effect of wolf venom, right?

“Well hello to you too, love,” he says with a cheeky smile on his face. His eyes roam over your body and his smile falters. You suddenly become aware that this is the closest you’ve ever been to the Original. You try not to let your cheeks flush.

“What are you doing here?” His smile drops entirely, noticing your serious demeanour.

“I’m here to help. Now if you could just let me in—”

“Help with what?” His face becomes grim as his eyes trail over to your shoulder. It’s now out in the open as you’ve changed into pajamas. You then remember that he must’ve seen the bite when it happened.

“Your wound, love.”

“Why…why would you want to help me with that?” you ask. Then a thought occurs. “Wait, have my friends spoken to you?”

His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “No, I haven’t heard from them,” he says and though you can’t say you didn’t expect it, your heart drops at hearing it. “Wait, do they know about this?”

“Um yeah.”

He looks angry as he asks, “And where are they now?”

You look at the floor and try to keep your embarrassment inside. “I don’t know, I thought they would’ve contacted you.”

“Apparently not.” His face is still twisted in anger although you’re not quite sure why. Then he looks at you and seems to remember why he’s here. “So, can you let me in?”

The thought of having Klaus Mikaelson in your room makes your heart beat faster. And though you want to give in, to continue living your immortal life, you hesitate. “Why should I trust you?”

“What?”

“How do I know if I let you in now, it won’t come back to bite me in the ass?” you ask, your arms crossed.

Klaus doesn’t seem to understand your concern. “Love, you realize that’s a hybrid bite. I don’t think you have the time for this.”

“So you admit that you would use it later?”

His face scrunches up. “That’s not—no I wouldn’t do that—just please let me in,” he says, giving you a sincere look that threatens to break down your walls. Just as you’re about to question him more, a wave of pain washes over your body. You let out a groan as you slightly stumble back. “Y/N?” The pain grows more intense and you let out a whimper before you collapse onto your knees. “Y/N!” It’s as if your body is at war with itself and you can feel every impact of it.

“You have to let me in, just say the words and I can help you. Please!” You hear Klaus say from the window. But it’s hard to find words when the pain is so intense. You want it to stop. “Y/N!” You hear him bang his fist against the walls of your house.

You slowly lift your head up to see his worried face, desperately waiting for you to let him in. You no longer care if this will come back to haunt you. You take a few deep breaths before you say, “Come in.”

As soon as the words take effect, Klaus rushes into the house and scoops you into his arms. You clutch at his chest, not thinking of anything but the pain. He carries you over to the bed and gently places you down before quickly running over to the window to close it. The pain seems to be dwindling down but you know it’ll be back. Your whole body is so weak, you used the last of your strength to walk over and talk to Klaus.

Speaking of, he’s quickly back at your bedside, eyes furiously scanning you for signs of physical distress. Then his eyes lock on yours and you feel your breath hitch. “You have to drink my blood,” he says quietly to you.

You know that that’s the cure and that it will save you, but you’re still hesitant. This is Klaus you’re talking about. The big bad hybrid who’s been attacking your friends and causing chaos for weeks now. And yet for some reason, a part of you wants to trust him. A part of you wants to give in to the idea that he could be good. But how can you trust him when you can’t even trust your own instincts?

He must sense your hesitation, because he leans down to look into your eyes. When you look at him, you’re stuck by how truly beautiful he is. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but more than that, they hold a look of sincerity in them. “I know you don’t trust me, I wouldn’t either,” he says. “But this is what’s going to save you. So please, take a chance. What have you got to lose?”

He does have a point.

“I don’t want to die,” you admit in a small voice. Your breath stutters as you let the fear bubbling inside of you rise to the surface. Klaus’s look is sympathetic.

“I don’t want that either,” he whispers. Your eyes meet and you feel caught in them. “Let me help you.”

Maybe it’s because this is a different, more sincere side of Klaus that you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s because your friends are gone and you’re feeling vulnerable. Maybe it’s because your instincts seem to have aligned. Either way, you nod your head.

He offers you a small smile. He then sits on the bed and gently shifts you so that you’re leaning against his chest. You’re too weak to move yourself. Klaus rolls up his sleeve and bites down on his wrist before bringing it close to your lips. You’re tempted but look at him to make sure it’s okay first. He nods and you sink your teeth into his wrist.

At first, you feel weird about the situation. But then you lean into it and begin to enjoy it. Klaus whispers encouragingly in your ear as his blood enters your body. You can feel your strength begin to return and the fog in your brain clear. You almost don’t want to stop, and the way Klaus is petting your hair doesn’t help. But eventually, you know you’ve had enough, so you pull away.

“Wasn’t so bad, eh?” Klaus says and you look up to see him smiling down at you. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so.”

“Then I guess my work here is done.” He moves you so you’re lying back on your bed, but when he moves to leave, you grab his arm. He looks back, confused.

“Why did you do that?” When his confusion doesn’t clear, you clarify. “Why did you help me?”

He looks down at the floor and his lip twitches into a smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, love, but I quite fancy you. Wouldn’t want you dying on me before I’ve had a chance to win you over.”

His words shock you enough to let go of his arm. The strangest part is that he looks sincere about it. “But…you actually like me? Like, that wasn’t all an act?” you ask. Both of you seem to be confused by the other.

“Why would I do that?” You start to feel embarrassed.

“To—to get on the group’s nerves? To throw us off?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might just like you?” To be honest, the thought hadn’t occurred to you. Trickery made more sense.

“Yes,” you say and then wish you didn’t. “I—I mean, why me? Why not Caroline or Bonnie?”

“Besides the fact that you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on?” he asks and you’re suddenly glad it’s dark because your cheeks are on fire right now. “Because you’re different.” That doesn’t make you feel so great. He must have picked up on that because he catches your eye and says, “Because you’re better.” The idea makes you flustered, that anyone would think you’re better than them, let alone a powerful hybrid like Klaus.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Hmm.” He seems to think on what to say before smirking. “Then I guess I’ll have to do a better job at showing you.” When he winks at you, you think your face might be on fire from how hot it is. Once again, he turns to leave.

“Thank you,” you call out which makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around to face you and seems confused by your words. But you mean them. He didn’t have to save you, you gave him nothing in return, and yet he did.

He smiles and you think it’s much better than the fake ones he gives to the group. “Of course love,” he says. “Couldn’t have my favourite vampire dying on me.” You give him a smile back, genuinely happy to hear someone say that to you.

Then your eyelids begin to feel heavy and you have to blink rapidly to stay awake. Klaus sees this and says, “Goodnight, my love,” before opening your bedroom window.

“Goodnight,” you say back as you watch the window close. You lay back down on your bed, thankful to no longer be dying. You guess you have your new saviour to thank for that. As you close your eyes, you can’t help but see Klaus in a different light. Not as a villain, but as a complicated man. You don’t think your friends are going to like your change of heart, so for now you’ll keep it to yourself. You’ll be content in knowing that maybe the big bad hybrid isn’t so bad after all.

#klaus x reader #klaus x you #klaus x y/n #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #tvd #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction #tvd klaus #the originals #the originals fanfiction

4K notes · View notes

etheraltides · 12 days ago

Text

BENEATH THE NOISE ᯓᡣ𐭩

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x College!Reader

Summarize: It’s hard to deal with deception when you’ve given your best. Luckily, Rafe knows how to get to you.

Warning(s): self depreciation, a hint of anxiety.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love in my works <3

The grade wasn’t supposed to define you. That’s what everyone says: “It’s just a number, not a measure of your worth.” But as you sit staring at the email on your screen, the words blur, letters and numbers melting together until you can only feel one thing: failure.

The exam’s grade - the one you poured sleepless nights, early mornings, and everything in between into – sits there in stark black and white, unchangeable, final. You can’t look away, even as the panic bubbles into shame and then into the familiar, relentless self-criticism. Even as the salty tears begin to blurry your vision.

“How could I have been so stupid?” you think, teeth pressing into your lower lip. “All those hours… wasted. What’s the point if this is the result?” The thoughts spiral faster, slipping away from you. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this. Maybe I’m just fooling myself. Everyone else makes it look so easy.”

With a shaky breath, you shut your laptop and curl up on your bed, tugging the blanket over yourself as if it could shield you from the whirlwind in your mind, from the world and those mocking numbers. You feel your phone buzz, but you ignore it. Then it buzzes again, and again. It’s Rafe, no doubt, checking in, but you can’t bring yourself to reply. You’re not in the mood for talking and pretending to be fine, or worse – the pity you know will be laced into his voice if he finds out how badly you did.

But Rafe isn’t one to be easily put off. He leaves message after message, each one laced with growing concern and slight irritation.

“Hey, baby. Just checking in. How’d the test go?”

A minute later, “Everything okay? Call me when you get this. You’re working me, baby.”

Another text, his humor slipping through: “I’m gonna assume you’re just taking a nap and ignoring the world like you usually do when you’re stressed.”

And then, finally, a call. You glance at the screen, seeing his name flash, but even though part of you aches to hear his voice, you can’t bring yourself to answer. Instead, you turn off the phone entirely, sinking further into the blanket cocoon, feeling more alone and defeated with every minute that ticks by.

Rafe spends the better part of an hour trying to reach you. First, it’s gentle check-ins, then some light teasing, then a note of worry threading through his texts. When all his messages stay stuck on “delivered” with no response, he throws on a jacket, grabs his car keys, and heads out the door. He’s had enough off of it.

The drive is a blur, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he runs through what he’ll say to you when he gets there. He’d scold you for being a brat and making him worry when all you had to do was type some goddamn words on your phone. It wasn’t so hard. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of something actually happening to you.

By the time he arrives at your place, it’s late enough that the lights outside are dim, casting long shadows across the driveway. He knocks once, twice in your bedroom’s door once your mom lets him in.

“She’s been there for hours.” Your mom sighs, looking up at the stairs as she puts your untouched plate of dinner in the refrigerator. “The results of her exam came in and well… You know how hard she can be with herself.”

Rafe rubs hand on his neck, he had completely forgot that the result would be today and he knew how hard you’ve been studying.

He knocks on your door once and when there’s no answer, he gently turns the knob, letting himself in.

It’s quiet inside, save for the faint sound of your breathing as he steps into your room. He sees you there, huddled under the blankets, your back to the door, your shoulders slightly shaking. His heart clenches in pain and worry as you look so small hiding in the many blankets. Wordlessly, Rafe slips off his shoes, walking over to your bed. Without a word, he lifts the edge of the blanket and slides in beside you, his warmth immediately seeping through the layers of fabric that separate you.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, letting his presence speak for itself. Slowly, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest. You stiffen at first, your pride fighting the comfort he’s offering, but then the dam breaks, and you lean into him, hiding your face in his shoulder.

He strokes your hair gently, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” He presses a light kiss to the top of your head, letting the silence settle for a few moments longer before he speaks again.

“Want me to talk to your professor?” he murmurs, a playful edge creeping into his tone. “Because I could pay a visit, you know… straighten him out, remind him that no one messes with my girl.” He squeezes you a little tighter. “Just say the word.”

You can’t help the small, broken laugh that escapes you, muffled by his shirt. You know he’s kidding – or at least, half-kidding – but there’s a part of you that believes he might actually show up at your professor’s office if you asked him to. That thought alone lightens the weight on your chest, even if just a little.

“You don’t need to go after my professor, Rafe,” you mumble, a hint of sarcasm breaking through the sadness. “Even though… I wouldn’t mind seeing the look on his face if you did, it wasn’t his fault.”

Rafe chuckles softly, squeezing your shoulder. “If you change your mind, I’ve got my car gassed up and ready.”

The laugh fades, and you fall silent again, the weight of the failure still pressing down on you. After a few moments, you pull back slightly, looking up at him. “Rafe… what if I’m just not good enough? What if I’ve been trying so hard for nothing?”

You wrap your arms around his torso, fingers absently tracing random shapes on his t-shirt as the words left your trembling lips. “Maybe I should just quit it. Spare myself all the deception.”

He keeps his hold on you, his voice staying low and gentle. “Baby, you’re one of the smartest people I know. This grade? It doesn’t change that. Not even a little.”

You start to protest, but he shushes you, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “No, I’m serious. You’re so hard on yourself, and I get it. But you need to remember that one test doesn’t undo everything you are, everything you’ve done. It’s just one small thing in a million great things about you.”

The words come out softly and so certain, almost like a confession, and you see the shift in his expression as he meets your gaze. He lifts a hand, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes soft and steady. “Then you try again, and again, if you have to. But you’re anything but ‘not good enough.’ You’re brilliant, and hard-working, and stubborn as hell. I’ve seen you tackle way harder stuff than this.”

You shake your head, unable to accept the kindness in his voice. “But I… I feel so dumb, Rafe. Like all this effort is just… wasted. Like I’m not cut out for this.”

Rafe’s expression softens even more, and he tilts your chin up, making sure you’re looking into his eyes. “Baby, listen to me. One test, one mistake – none of that changes who you are or what you’re capable of. You’re allowed to be human, to mess up sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less amazing, okay?”

His words linger, breaking down the wall you’ve built around your pride and pain. For the first time since you got the grade, you start to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’s right. You were being too harsh in yourself.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you place a kiss to his cheek.

“Always,” he replies, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “Now, let’s stay here as long as you need, but when you’re ready, we’ll go grab some terrible takeout, or watch that show you like. Whatever you want. But for now… just let me hold you.”

You nod, settling against him, the rise and fall of his chest calming the storm in your mind. And as you lie there, surrounded by his warmth and steady heartbeat, the self-criticism starts to soften, the harsh thoughts fading, leaving only the quiet reassurance that you’ll be okay.

As you lie curled up against him, letting his warmth seep into you, Rafe’s hand gently runs along your back in soothing circles. You can feel the steady beat of his heart, grounding you, pulling you away from the spiral of self-doubt. After a long silence, you finally lift your head, your face inches from his as you meet his gaze. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just quiet understanding, and something even softer.

Slowly, he reaches up, brushing a thumb across your cheek, and you feel yourself lean into his touch. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and after a beat, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s soft, gentle, like he’s pouring all his reassurance into you without a single word. His fingers slip to the back of your neck, his hold gentle but certain, as if anchoring you to the moment, grounding you in his presence and pulling you away from the loud thoughts in your mind.

He pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, and you feel his breath, warm and steady. “I’m here,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a murmur. “No grade, no test can change that. You’re more than enough, and I’m not going anywhere.” His thumb grazes your cheek again, his eyes filled with warmth and conviction, and in that moment, the weight on your heart feels a little lighter, the storm in your mind a little quieter.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you

334 notes · View notes

ozzgin · 3 months ago

Note

Why is it so hard to start writing these messages? I swear, I spend so much time every time thinking about how to start and greet ;(( So, what I decided to write for: we already have a yandere who entered Darling Academy to find a darling, so what about a darling who enters a yandere school undercover? (I apologize if something like this has already been done, but it is unlikely that I could have missed even one post on this topic, considering how many times I reread each one-shot). Maybe because they want to find the perfect yandere themselves, maybe one of the yandere students killed/hurted their loved one, so they are entering because they want to find out who the killer is. In general, there can be a huge number of reasons, I would really like to read such a concept in your performance! But of course, you do not have to write something full-scale and detailed, I will be glad to just read your thoughts on this matter!! Have a nice day ^^

I feel like we've already covered the case of an undercover Darling who is adored by the entire school - even if it happened unwillingly. So I went for a different approach; no idea if it works or not.

Undercover!Darling Reader applied to Yandere School in hopes of finding their very own yandere. To their great dismay, what they received was utter indifference. The classmates are nice, but cordial. They are mainly focused on succeeding, not building intimacy with their peers.

An unbearable situation. Reader is stuck listening to the daydreams and hopes of the fellow students while having to remain silent. "I wish I could find a Darling one day", someone laments during break. Reader is beyond themselves. They wish they could scream at the top of their lungs that they're a Darling, right there, right then, ready to be claimed. Yet, that would expose them and potentially land them in trouble. All they can do is smile and not empathetically.

Perhaps as a way to rub salt into the wound, fate has brought another challenge: Reader has been asked to participate in an exchange program with Darling Academy. They agree to it monotonously.

Thus, Reader is now walking down the Darling halls with a defeated expression. Maybe they shouldn't have gotten so greedy. Maybe they should've applied here instead. What was the point of forfeiting their future? None of the yandere students seem to realize they have a Darling right under their nose. Sigh.

Reader is so engulfed in despair that they don't even notice the ardent stares coming from the Darling students. They're scattered in clusters, eyeing you cheekily and whispering among themselves.

"Did you place it? The love letter, I mean", one student inquires.

"I couldn't", their classmate responds, deflated. "(Y/N)'s locker seems to be stuffed to the brim with love letters already. Three of them flew out when I tried to put mine in."

In an unexpected turn of events, Reader has gotten the entire Darling Academy crushing on them. Does that...does that count for something?

[Yandere School Masterlist] | [More yandere stories]

#yandere school #yandere #darling x reader #darling harem??#from darling...to yandere?

828 notes · View notes

severus-snaps · 4 months ago

Text

can you imagine if severus had lived and went on teaching at hogwarts? everyone would think he was the COOLEST TEACHER EVER.

helped save the wizarding world by defying voldemort. dark and mysterious past so any number of rumours could arise. known tendency to do good deeds and not tell anyone, providing scope for the evillest rumours to have some 'greater/secretly good' twist aspect. supposedly brutal death, survived. got the scars to prove it broody, distant personality and will never discuss anything but the work with students, no matter how much they ask.

this is fertile ground for school rumours, the most fertile you've ever seen. when i was in school there was a physics teacher who (rumour had it) used to be a guard at a diamond mine in south africa, and he supposedly had a bullet wound scar - and ignoring the ethics of that for a moment - the girls adored him and thought he was the hottest teacher ever, the guys thought he was so cool, and not a one of us gave a shit about physics

the snape rumours change every day. there's five variations on each one. there's snape lore in the school that you have to brush up on as a first-year. the kids are DESPERATE to get a scathing snape burn in class. when he's cruel and demeaning, the kids' faces LIGHT UP and he's furious that that doesn't work any more so most of the time he gives the class the silent treatment

harry's shouted out everywhere that Sev did it all for Lily, and so the girls and single mums (and some not single mums) think he's the god of romance. suddenly sev finds himself the new Lockhart, and he LOATHES IT

he receives firewhiskey and care packages from thankful parents for the first few years, so much that he has to start re-gifting them in the staffroom, and he even gains a little bit of weight from all the chocolate cauldrons. he stops attending breakfast for the first few weeks, because all the owls with letters of thanks were disruptive

he asks one time in class if anyone had any questions about the cure for boils and EVERY hand goes up. he pauses, surveying the class. "are there any questions about the potion" he says, and every hand goes down - but one.

"did you ever use this potion defeat Voldemort"

he considers resigning in that moment, but at least hogwarts keeps him away from his #1 enemy - media attention. kids are easier to keep in line than journalists. unfortunately the other teachers think all of this is hilarious, and give him a daily run-down of their favourites in the staffroom

eventually Sev starts putting out his own far-fetched rumours via staged, easily overheard conversations near students with minerva - just to be a little shit about it. [edit to add: @redabeline wrote a fic!!]

#severus snape #pro snape #snape #professor snape #snape headcanon #snape fandom

630 notes · View notes

steddiealltheway · 9 months ago

Text

It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))

Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.

There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)

Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).

But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-

Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.

The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.

And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???

He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.

Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.

During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.

Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.

It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…

Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.

There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.

Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.

He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.

Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.

Wait.

Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.

“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.

Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?

Absolutely. He can do this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Robin, I can't do this."

Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."

"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."

"Uh huh."

Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"

"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."

Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."

"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.

Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."

"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.

Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."

Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."

A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.

"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.

Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"

Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.

He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.

When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.

Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.

"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...

Oh.

Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.

Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.

He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.

"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.

Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."

Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"

Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.

"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.

"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.

Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.

"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."

"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."

"Since when do we-"

"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."

Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"

"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."

"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."

"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."

Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"

Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."

Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."

Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."

"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.

"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.

"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."

Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"

Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.

"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.

Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.

"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.

"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.

"Steve," Eddie tries again.

And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.

Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.

After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"

"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.

Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.

Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.

"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"

"No," Steve says honestly.

Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"

"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.

"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"

"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.

Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.

Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"

Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"

"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.

"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.

Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.

"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.

"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"

"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.

Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.

"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.

"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."

Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."

Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.

Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.

"Steve, please don't."

Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.

Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?

Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.

Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.

Eddie: Please shut up.

Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.

Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.

Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.

Eddie: Next question, please.

Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."

Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"

Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."

It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"

Eddie's head pops up. "What?"

Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."

"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.

Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."

"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.

Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.

"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.

Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."

"Why?"

"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Steve replies.

They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.

"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.

"Robin was right."

Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"

"Never," Steve answers simply.

They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.

"What are you thinking about?"

Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.

"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.

And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #robin buckley

920 notes · View notes

sanipoyo · 4 months ago

Text

WAS IT CASUAL WHEN…

note - my hero academia, angst, inspired by causal by chappell roan! PART TWO here!

you sat up late nights thinking about a future with TODOROKI. although you two weren’t dating, he called you pet names and took you on romantic dates. all the girls in your class labeled the two of you “cutest couple” despite you telling them numerous times that you guys weren’t a couple. after a weeks worth of not being in contact with shoto due to studies and training, you noticed his cold demeanor towards you. “have you been alright, sho? seems like you’ve been avoiding me” you confronted. “well, my girlfriend doesn’t really like me having any type of relations with other girls”, he replied nonchalantly, as if there was no problems with the sentence he had just said. at this moment you felt like nothing, you had a million questions and your thoughts were running wild. “girlfriend?” it felt like you had gotten your heart ripped out of your chest. he nodded and you felt tears beginning to well up. you immediately walked away, hearing him call out for you to wait so you guys could talk more. maybe you mistook a genuine friendship for something romantic.

you and KAMINARI had been doing a lot of romantic gestures that led you to believe that the two of you could potentially have a relationship together. he was the first boy you let touch you in any type of way because he made you feel safe. you always knew he was a friendly guy with a flirty personality but at this point, you felt deceived. he brought you out to the rooftop of the school to have a conversation with you about y’alls relationship. “i don’t know how to say this without sounding like a douche but, you seem serious about me”, he stated which led you into a state of confusion. why wouldn’t you be serious about him? “what do you mean?” you asked and he let out a deep sigh and folded his arms over his chest. “i feel like you wanna be more than friends and i’m just not ready for that, unless i’m reading too much into it”. you forced out a chuckle and shook your head, denying wanting to be more with him. this hurt. you believed he had truly liked you and wanted to be with you but he was nothing more than a friend with benefits. turns out you weren’t as special as you thought.

SHINSO had surprised you with flowers outside of your dorm twice a month, sent you long paragraphs about how much he loves you whilst you slept so you could wake up to them, and he even wrote you letters and had koda help him get them delivered by a dove to you. which could mean nothing. the two of you were hanging out at the mall and you had slipped away to the restroom for a minute. when you came back there was a beautiful girl flirting with shinso and he was entertaining it. they exchanged numbers and you were immediately filled with disgust. “what was that about?” you asked sternly, he just laughed. “what? i can’t talk to girls now?” he replied sarcastically. you were furious at this point, he wasn’t taking you seriously and you felt like a big joke to him. “shinso are you kidding me?” he displayed signs of annoyance rolling his eyes at your question. “chill out, it’s not like WE’RE together.” that was all you needed to hear. you were shocked he would say this considering all he’s done for you without having a label on things. it was true that the two of you weren’t dating but you guys definitely had something going on.

BAKUGO texted you saying that he wanted to talk. you were prepared to be asked to be his girlfriend. you were excited to talk to him and finally put a label on things but when you met up with him he, he looked sad. he usually lights up when he sees you but this time he was just bland. you began to ask him if he was okay and he brushed off your questions and straightened up. “i don’t want you to feel like i’m toying with you or anything so i’m just letting you know that we are strictly friends”, he laid it out on you unexpectedly and you felt your heart sink. you guys had been on a plethora of dates and he even asked you to be his plus one for a sports festival banquet. he tried to explain that his training came first and that he didn’t have time to be in a “silly relationship” which made you feel like shit. your heart ached but you nodded in agreement, although you felt stupid and played with.

1K notes · View notes

pumpkin-bats · 4 months ago

Text

When They Miss You- OP Boys Headcanons

Since the last one did so- bafflingly- well, here's another one!

Law:

He's chill for a while and for the most part he's calmed by the thought that you'll be back soon enough.

After a while he gets fidgety. Tapping his foot or finger, bouncing his leg, pacing, eyes occasionally darting to the door.

He sighs a lot and gets minutely more irritable. Only those who really know him notice the difference.

Throws himself into work to distract himself.

Spends more time standing next to the bed and staring at it than he does sleeping in it, and frowning every time he sees how the indent on your side of the bed lessens.

Zoro:

He doesn't wait like a dog... but he waits like a dog. On more than one occasion you returned to find him at the door.

Doesn't say a single word about missing you ever, but puts in every effort to stay in touch while you're gone.

There is a picture of you near him at all times that he hides when someone almost catches sight of it.

He holds his swords just a bit tighter.

Unconsciously flexes his hand a lot while he wonders if you're doing alright

Sanji:

Over does it with shopping for ingredients for the feast he plans to prepare for when you get back.

Casual keeping in touch with little calls or letters.

Surprisingly less bothered by your absence than most expect him to be, but that's because he doesn't want to worry you pointlessly by being a nuisance about it.

Quietly listens to music at night while daydreaming about you or remembering good memories to comfort himself.

The thought of you coming back keeps him too excited to be sad. He likes thinking about how he can surprise you each time you open the door and it occupies him thoroughly while he waits.

Ace:

He is obnoxious to everyone who is not you. That is to say, he won't shut up, ever, about you.

He talks about what you're up to, how much he likes you in general, and all the things he can't wait to do with you when you get back.

He'll lay awake in bed at night for a little bit, just smiling to himself and thinking of you.

There's an annoying number of phone calls, not to tell you that he misses you, but just to tell you he saw something weird. What he doesn't tell you is that he just likes getting to hear your voice.

He tries to keep the place clean while waiting for you to come back and always ends up breaking something.

Mihawk:

"I slept terribly." That is the start of every single phone call.

He will never tell you that he does this; but he gets an old pillow from the closet, stuffs it into one of your shirts and sleeps with it. It does not help and it makes him angrier in the morning than he would if he just stopped using it. But he likes that it smells like you so he keeps doing it.

Zones out a lot in the middle of a task or conversation thinking about how you're doing.

Accidentally makes an extra plate of food for breakfast and a cup of coffee/tea in the morning and pouts about it every time.

End of the day phone calls about your day and a gentle 'goodnight' before going to sleep.

Buggy:

Gets a bit more drunk than he usually does and spends his drunken stupor mumbling about how you are a traitor who abandoned him while fiddling with his cup.

The silence without you makes him frown a lot.

Every time he comes up with a good (or bad) joke that he thinks you'd like, he writes it down for when you get back.

Lies in bed like a sad puppy, staring at your side of the bed with a pout.

Only calls you when his people have had enough of his sulking and call you on his behalf before forcing him to talk to you. He cheers up significantly and is giddy for the rest of the day.

Crocodile:

He's minorly grumpy because half the time he tries convincing you to let him go with you and fails every time.

He spends significantly less while you're gone because literally everything reminds him of you and even he knows he can't buy everything in sight.

Calls you after lunch, of all times, to ask if you've eaten, tells you to take care of yourself, then promptly hangs up.

He's not particularly upset that you're gone because he has other things to occupy him, but also because the second he starts really missing you it makes him feel like you two are newlyweds separated for the first time and he's immediately soothed.

He does get a lot of things for when you return, planning to treat you to a relaxing day and sensual dinner. There's too many things for said day because he can't decide on what he thinks you'd enjoy best.

#one piece #black leg sanji #fic writing #fanfiction #one piece headcanons #roronoa zoro #portgas d ace #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #buggy x reader #buggy the clown #ace x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader

996 notes · View notes

sweetfwr · 6 days ago

Text

SKOOL LUV AFFAIR ˒˒ yjw

it’s your junior year, and all you want is to survive the rest of your high school life away from the prying eyes of others. however it seems the universe has other, more absurd plans, like a secret love affair with the student council president.

genre) FLUFF, high school au, secret relationship, kinda based off a true story..

pairing) student council president!jungwon x newspaper club president!reader

wc) 1.3k

now playing) intro (end of the world) - ariana grande

“she seems sadder, doesn’t she?” a girl you hardly know outside of being a classmate and (barely) an acquaintance murmurs pitifully, and a second, taller girl nods vigorously.

“i would be too if i lost lee heeseung.”

you? sadder? you frown in deep thought. you had forgotten to put on concealer after pulling off an all-nighter and practically flew out of the house once you realized you slept through your alarm, but that was about it.

after all, what reason did you have to be sad? in your humble opinion ranking number 5 out of 452 students and recently being named the head of the school newspaper were hardly mundane things. besides, there’s also j—

“there’s no way they’re getting back together, right?? he’s with someone new, for god’s sake!”

“aren’t you updated?” the taller one gasps, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards when her friend shakes her head no. “they just broke up! heeseung told one of the guys on the football team and the news spread everywhere.”

now that’s something you didn’t know.

“oh my god, he’s single now?”

“he’s been single. my friend’s boyfriend’s cousin is in his class. want me to set you up?”

you think you’d rather go down a waterslide lined with razor blades and land into a pool of alcohol than continue on listening to this nonsense, so you pack up your books, turn up the music in your earbuds, and quietly leave the writing club’s room completely undetected by the other two occupants. you dive into the warm, crowded halls adorned with sunspots and ethereal views of the after-school sunset.

needless gossip is something you can definitely tolerate. when your ex is the school’s poster boy for popular kids, you’ve accepted the irrelevant whispers that have surrounded you since your sudden breakup one full year ago, because kids your age make mistakes, and a little positivity goes a long way!

but as you walk through the halls and slowly come to a stop at the sight of a chattering crowd and lee heeseung making his way through it, frantic gaze looking left and right as if he were looking for someone as he holds a absurdly large bouquet of flowers in his right hand, a pit forms in your stomach for what’s to come.

you take one huge step back in preparation to sprint away, but it’s too late when heeseung’s eyes land on you and he goes completely still.

the crowd-goers around him follow suit in an almost comedic fashion, and some even cock their heads and murmur to each other in confusion when they collectively realise who the bouquet is for.

your ex-boyfriend grips the bouquet a little harder and gulps visibly, before making his way to you in slow steps. his friends, a few of which you can name from the back of your head as jay, sunghoon, and jake follow suit and arrange themselves in a line behind him with illustration board signs that bear horribly written lettering. to your absolute horror, it says:

WILL U B MY GF? (again) in bold with a winky ;) face at the end.

needless gossip, you can handle. public confessions from your ex on the other hand, is something that was completely unfathomable to you only 30 minutes ago. who even does public confessions anymore? especially in school. it’s hot, sweaty, and just so… public. you never know who’s watching, either! including… fuck.

in an internal frenzy, your eyes start darting between the numerous people in the crowd until they land on the yang jungwon’s, student council president, eyebrows furrowed and a hand in his pocket while the other was situated in a deadly grip on one of his backpack straps at the commotion.

“hey,” one guy whispers to his friend, eyes nervously shifting between heeseung and jungwon. “he shouldn’t be doing this infront of the student council president, man. he hates racket in the halls.”

slowly, all the color drains from your face and you’re prompted to leave, immediately, even when heeseung gets on one knee and begins loudly proclaiming his love for you. to his and everyone else’s shock, you rush past him and push through the crowds until you’re out of the building gates and into the open air.

at this point the orange swirls in the skies fade to a dark blue and thunder clouds begin to form above, but you’re too irritated to care. who cares about positivity?! your ex has just started weeks worth of rumours about the two of you when you’ve been trying to fight them off for a full 12 months! you think your uniform might be getting soaked, but a fog clouds your mind and you can’t think straight despite the fact that you’re getting poured on by heaps and heaps of heavy rain.

that is, until an umbrella is quietly held over your head, and you know in your heart exactly who the owner is.

you continue walking, albeit at a slower pace, and he follows behind you wordlessly.

“i can’t believe him, won.” you let yourself complain, for the first time in a long while. “he cheats on me, then he lets everyone and their mom in the halls know hes wants me again? talk about guts, right?” you scoff.

“totally.” despite not being able to see him, you hear his smile, and you know it’s not because he finds your complaining silly. rather, he’s just happy to be around you outside of the constraints of prying eyes at school, even if it is while he trails behind you, holding an umbrella over your head under the pouring rain as you curse and release your frustrations to your heart’s content.

in fact, he genuinely can’t think of a better way to think of your six month anniversary, in what in his eyes, is a romantic moment under the rain in the middle of an empty street with his girlfriend.

“he was so cheesy about it too!” you groan, hands reaching up to comically pull at your hair in frustration. at this point, you’ve come down from your hysteria enough that you allow yourself to briefly glance back at jungwon every once in a while. “the signs, seriously? you should’ve seen what they said hon, they—“ you stop in your tracks and take a good look at your boyfriend.

at your abrupt pause and gaping stare, he only cocks his head curiously. “what? keep going.”

“won, you’re soaked.” you murmur sadly, only having realized now that your boyfriend, your real boyfriend wordlessly held an umbrella over your head to let you shout profanities in peace despite getting soaked himself.

he scoffs playfully at your sensitivity. “i can change when i get home, don’t be dramatic.”

completely going against his words, a wide, genuine smile graces your features, all of your previous anger fading away at the sight of your man. “jungwon, you big softy! did that go on for long? how have you been? did you have a good day at school?”

“would’ve been better if i got to see you,” he hummed, playing it cool despite the fact he was soaked in rain water from head to toe. “even if it was just from afar.”

“you were jealous, weren’t you?”

“…i wasn’t.”

you coo at him fondly, and at this he only smiles and looks away bashfully. your boyfriend, the student council president and the one who ranked number 1 out of that 452. the boy who decided to convey his feelings to you over a handwritten letter 6 months to this day and the one who called the shots to keep your relationship secret, for your sake, because he knew that that was what you wanted.

you started off as only co-workers as the editor-in-chief of the school paper and the student council president, but you can’t thank the universe enough for letting you know the beautiful human being that is your boyfriend anyway. at this thought, you grab the umbrella from his hands and toss it away before entrapping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“let’s go home.” you murmur quietly into his neck, “i can lend you clothes.”

he hums in response, more focused on the way your arms wrap around him and give him warmth as he returns the gesture. “that sounds nice.”

“happy monthsary?” “happy monthsary.”

339 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 20 days ago

Text

The Price of Pride (21/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: the death of one of the characters, trauma, description of the battle and wounds, kissing, the angst, many things from Lady Royce's childhood presented in a different light ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

If your trust in me is dependent on your mood, it means that our marriage is a mere fiction without foundation, and I remain your slave.

Her words, despite trying to drown out his inner thoughts with wine, came back to him like a fly buzzing around his head. He was furious with her – no one had ever spoken to him like that before, not even his father or mother, let alone someone who was a stranger to him.

His inner envy and resentful, masculine pride assured him that he was doing the right thing by punishing her with the lack of his presence – he felt that his fears and words were completely justified, and she had become hysterical, as had often happened to women over the centuries.

He pressed his lips together, creating small, burning wounds around his nails with his thumb, picking at the cuticles around them as if he wanted to rip his skin down to the very flesh.

He preferred to think of how much she had enraged him rather than how he dreaded what was to come.

The Prince Regent could not be afraid – he was now the head of the entire Kingdom and could not hesitate, he repeated to himself, but his knee bounced in a nervous gesture anyway as he sat by the hearth, staring into the fire, unable to calm himself.

He hid his face in his hand, a quiet sigh on the verge of a groan left his throat at the thought that despite everything he would rather have her with him now.

She was able to reassure him: she knew exactly how to embrace him, stroke him, kiss him, what to say and when to say it.

An uncomfortable sting in his heart accompanied his conviction that her scent, her calm voice, her soft, gentle hands and her body in which he could hide was just what he needed.

He knew that after what she had said she had no intention of visiting him. He would have been willing to wait until dawn and let them both cool off, trying to reason with her again the next day, had it not been for the fact that he had no more time.

He was supposed to leave later that night, and she didn't know it.

Some part of him wanted to give in, to let go of his pride, his prejudices and go to her, to feel her once more, melting with her into one. He knew that although she certainly resented him, she would have allowed him to take her if he had been gentle: a condition of their momentary truce would have to be that he did not humiliate her, and their closeness would be an attempt at reconciliation, a proof of mutual tenderness and devotion.

But he knew that if he went to her, if he felt her, if he came inside her, his mask would crack: he would not be able to hide from her how terrified he was, or worse, he would burst out sobbing like a little boy.

He couldn't afford that, because then she would try to find out what had happened, and he would have to tell her.

So he could not go to her, which put him in a helpless position: he was not such a fool as to disregard the possibility that, after what was about to happen, she might never see him again.

Did she deserve for him to abandon her like this, without a word of explanation?

He thought for a long time, feeling the panic slowly rising within him, only to come up with an idea that seemed perfect after a while.

A letter.

He got up from his seat and took a piece of parchment, a quill and an inkwell from one of the wooden drawers, sitting down behind the wide oak table. He leaned over, dipped the tip of the quill into the ink and began to write, for the first time addressing words to someone in this way, without using official language or phrases.

Ñuha hāedar (my little sister), we part in anger and I sincerely regret it. Know that my intention was not to humiliate you or to undermine your loyalty to me, of which I have been certain for a long time. Perhaps I was unable, as is my custom, to find appropriate, more thoughtful words to describe my concerns, for which I ask your forgiveness. I set out to meet your father full of trepidation, hoping that you will also forgive me for not taking you with me, despite my promises. I cannot and do not want to risk your life. I have taken enough from you by force. Many things I have done to you in the past I now think of with shame. If I fall, bend the knee before your father and confess that I forced you to do everything. You have my blessing to do so. All I ask is that you keep in your heart the memory of me as your brother who truly loved you. I promise that wherever I find myself after death, I will be waiting for you there. Aōha lēkia (your big brother)

He swallowed hard, putting the quill down on the table top, feeling for some reason that his hands were shaking, his throat clenched, his heart pounding like mad, a burning sensation under his eyelids.

It was a farewell.

She said she could only see me and the child, but you were not with us.

She said she could only hear the sound of the water.

He closed his eye and leaned forward, feeling his whole body screaming for him to stay, for him not to do this.

What could Daemon do if he just didn't show up?

If he had mocked him and let him wait for something that would not come?

The whole of King's Landing would have found out that he hadn't attended the duel.

That their prince was a craven, a scared little boy, not a man.

He got up from his seat and rolled up the letter, tying it with a ribbon, then summoned his servant. The boy came in a moment later and bowed, clearly tired and half-conscious, surprised that he had expected his presence at such a late hour.

"Your Grace?"

"Prepare my armour. I'm setting off for patrol." He lied, extending a rolled-up piece of parchment towards him. "You will carry this to my wife in the morrow if I do not return."

The boy nodded, surprised, and left, leaving him alone with his thoughts. A moment later, he and the other man, whom he had apparently woken, walked into his chamber with all the parts of his armour.

He thought grimly, putting the chainmail on over his thick woollen tunic, that he had never worn it before – he had never taken part in knight's tournaments, considering it a childish matter that he did not care for.

However, when he felt its weight on his shoulders he regretted that he had never fought in it before.

Even moving his arm, not yet holding a sword in his hand, he felt that its weight would slow him down, that he would not be as skilful as he had been when sparring with Criston Cole.

The thought made him feel a cold sweat on his back.

He decided that all his hair should be tied back – his servants couldn't braid because they weren't women, so he didn't even try to ask them to do it, ordering them instead to simply tie it up with a black ribbon at the back of his head.

My wife would know how to do this, he thought regretfully, recalling in his memories her delicate fingers weaving strands of his hair together.

His armour was heavy, but it was the thought of him abandoning her in such a manner that weighed down on his heart.

When he looked at himself in the mirror, he thought he looked like a prince from the legends, a great knight who was going to bravely face another powerful man. Though he believed it would be just the opposite, he recognised that there was no pride in it, no glory – just that he was flying to meet death in the form of his uncle, ready to commit kinslaying again.

But he couldn't take a step back, even though some part of him wanted so badly to be a coward.

To his displeasure, the commotion he caused in the middle of the night aroused the interest of Criston Cole, who was on watch at the time.

"My Prince. Can it really not wait until morn? What will you see in the darkness of the night?" He asked him, and he pressed his lips together, furious that he expected him to make an explanation.

"I won't sleep until I'm sure there's no danger lurking in the sky. I'll be back soon. Prepare me a rested horse." He ordered, turning again to the young stable boy, who merely nodded and ran out of his quarters.

Cole looked at him with a look of worry on his face that annoyed him.

"I know what you think of me, how much you despise me because of what I have done. I deserve this punishment, your rejection. I promise that, as I have done so far, I will bear it with dignity. But let me stand by you now that war is at our doorstep."

He felt an unpleasant constriction in his throat, a sting in his heart testifying to the fact that his betrayal was in fact the cause of his immense pain and unhappiness, the grief of losing someone he had considered his comrade and companion.

You cannot help me with what is to come, he thought inside his head.

"If you wish to regain my favour, watch at my wife's chamber until my return. I leave her in your care." He said coldly and sidestepped him, not wanting him to see in the gaze of his healthy eye the thing that made his whole body quiver.

Fear.

Following his order, his mount was already waiting for him when he stepped out into the courtyard of Harrenhal – he strapped his sword and helmet to its saddle, then jumped onto its back and slammed his feet into its sides, making the horse move ahead in a gallop.

The night was chilly, teasing his cheeks unpleasantly – Vhagar's liege was not far away, but some part of him longed for this journey to last for hours.

To postpone as much as possible what he was about to face.

His dragoness sensed his trepidation immediately – she awoke and lifted her head high, leaning towards him as he jumped off his horse, hitting his body with a hot breath of steam. He pressed his forehead against her hard, scratchy scales, feeling that it was just him and her now.

No one else.

"Emi naejot gaomagon ziry, ñuha jorrāelagon raqiros. Dohaeragon nyke. (We have to do it, my dear friend. Help me.)" He whispered, but he knew that some part of her understood him – she squawked loudly, as if to let him know that she was ready.

The blood and fire of Old Valyria flowed through her veins again, just as it had in the days of her greatest battles.

He sighed heavily and moved towards the long ropes hanging down the sides of her great body, wondering how he was supposed to climb with such a weight on her back. He grabbed one and pulled, figuring he may have had enough strength in his arms to do so, when he heard the clatter of hooves in the distance.

He turned around, startled, sure that it was Cole who had moved after him, but froze, seeing her silhouette clearly in the moonlight.

She was breathing loudly through her mouth, her hair tied up in a braid, unruly strands stuck to her cheeks moist with sweat from exertion.

She only jumped off the back of her mare when she was right in front of him, and then she rushed at him, swinging her hand as if she wanted to slap him in the face – involuntarily he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, her body slamming into his with a loud clang of steel.

"You fucking bastard! How dare you leave me behind!" She shouted in his face in a breaking, childish voice, her doe eyes red from tears, her dark eyebrows arched in pain and grief.

He, however, simply stared at her, unable to believe that she was standing in front of him.

She followed him.

His wife.

He kissed her – fear and uncertainty had robbed him of the ability to speak, so he showed what he felt with this caress, aggressive and sticky, full of their tongues, saliva and teeth.

She moaned furiously into his mouth, but did not push him away – quite the opposite, they embraced each other tightly, devouring each other in this violent, loud act of union, her closeness, her scent, her fingers clenched in his hair tender and familiar.

His body's reaction was immediate, as if he had fallen into some kind of euphoria.

His erection was so hard that it caused him pain.

"My armour got unpleasantly tight. Right here." He breathed out into her throat, rubbing his hips against her stomach, feeling the discomfort between his thighs, trying to find any outlet for the tension that was building in his manhood.

He thought with his cock, as he didn't want to remind himself of what he was about to do.

She, however, pulled him down to the ground.

"Take me with you." She mumbled, stroking his jaw with her fingers.

For some reason, her words caused him pain.

He needed to hear it, needed her by his side, but he couldn't be that selfish.

He had forced her to do enough things.

He strangled her, pressed her face to the ground, forced her to tame the dragon even though she could have died, himself considering when and how he should get rid of her, using her for his pleasure in the end, giving her no security, no guarantee that he had in any way even considered marrying her.

Only now, in that moment, did he understand why all this time his mother had been looking at him this way.

He had made her his whore, even though he could, after all, have treated her with dignity from the very beginning.

Was this how a man of honour behaved?

"I want you to live, even if I'm gone. Daemon, if he succeeds in defeating me, will not kill you. You will tell him that I forced you to marry me." He whispered, wanting to behave as he should this time.

Like a good man, a good brother, a good husband.

He closed his eye as her thumb ran over his jawline, her warm hand cupping his cold cheek soothingly, making him feel safe.

"You promised me something then, under a starry sky, like the one spreading over our heads now. You said: tame a dragon, and your place will always be by my side. It was not to be my punishment, but my reward. So reward me, for my devotion, courage and faithfulness. Let me spend the night with you." She said softly.

He opened his eye, feeling his heart beat harder, as if his body was giving him a sign that it still wanted to live, and the blood still flowed through his veins.

Although he had felt dead a moment before, he now took a breath again, as if he had risen from the sea depths to the surface.

He kissed her as he had always dreamed of being kissed: the caresses he placed on her plump lips were sweet and moist, sticky with his desire and the feeling that burned in his heart like a living fire, giving him hope.

In that moment, although he was not aware of it, he gave vent to his grief and frustration, a thought that had been circling in his head for many months, but which he had not allowed to reach his consciousness because of his pride.

He could not bear the fact that he had not met her sooner – that Daemon had never taken her with him to the Red Keep.

He saw her through the eyes of his imagination as a little girl, as lost and bewildered as he was – alone in a strange place, among strange people and a strange culture, where fire and blood ruled. His nature, which made him love to show off his knowledge and rhetoric would have made him, though no doubt reluctantly, acquaint her with all the secrets their lineage, their history, their heritage held.

She would not have a dragon, and neither would he.

He would no longer be alone.

Perhaps she would have helped him then, that night, and climbed onto Vhagar's back with him.

Perhaps they would have set off towards the skies together, laughing and shouting with joy.

Perhaps she would have stood up for him and he would never have lost his left eye.

Perhaps he would have smiled more often, teasing her all the time.

Perhaps his first experience with a woman would not have been in a brothel with a whore in his mother's age, but her, just as inexperienced, beautiful in her innocence.

Perhaps she would have borne him a son or a daughter long ago, being his wife and closest companion.

He felt that he had been robbed of their years together, of the possibility of being a different person, of retaining something in himself that was pure, true, honest.

He was a shadow of himself, a sullen, tall figure in black, a stone lying at the foot of the Iron Throne.

"– hāedar (little sister) –" He breathed out into her mouth, this young girl whom he would kiss fervently in the dark corridors of the Red Keep, slowly discovering with her the secrets and nooks of her soft, warm body, her throbbing womanhood leaking under his fingers.

He craved what had been taken from them – he wanted to be a boy with two eyes again, to regain what he had lost.

He wanted Luke to be still alive.

He felt a heavy, burning, lonely tear gather under his eyelid at that thought, but she wiped it away with her thumb before it could run down, pressing her forehead against his.

"– lēkia (big brother) –" She hummed softly, causing a pleasant, warm feeling to ripple through his heart.

"– promise not to leave my side –" He muttered in a breaking voice.

She smiled at his words.

"– I promise –"

They embraced and cuddled into each other in a way that was delightfully innocent – although he passionately desired her, there was no lust in the gesture itself, but a need for simple closeness and comfort.

"– don't make Aegon's mistake – stay away until I give you the sign – do you understand? –" He whispered in her ear and she nodded.

"– yes –"

Her presence gave him strength and, although with difficulty, he managed to climb onto Vhagar's back. He turned behind himself, spotting her seated figure, Sheepstealer rose from the ground at her command.

"Sōvēs! (Fly!)" He called out, and a moment later, Vhagar's body shook as she lazily began to rise on her paws. She moved forward, making the ground around them tremble, and then took to the skies with difficulty.

He breathed loudly as he saw the silhouettes of Sheepstealer at his side and his wife sitting on his back – although he was still terrified, their presence was a comfort to him.

On the one hand, he felt remorse that he had been so weak as to expose her; on the other, he thought that perhaps, in fact, her presence would bring Daemon out of balance and give them a chance.

Or at least that was how he tried to console himself.

The journey from Harrenhal to Gods Eye was not a long one – he swallowed hard, noticing that his uncle had not yet appeared.

What if it was an ambush?

They both landed on a hill near the lake in the open space, so that he could see exactly what was going on around them. He looked to the side and noticed that his wife was staring at the sheet of water spreading out beside them.

He swallowed hard, looking at her uncertainly – some part of him that was still afraid he was going to die wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he only managed to open his mouth when he heard a screech in the skies.

They both lifted their heads up, terrified and anxious, as the powerful figure of Caraxes flew over their heads – he grabbed the ropes, ready to command Vhagar to breathe fire, Daemon, however, landed in front of them, his dragon's paws slamming into the ground, its head stopped just in front of Vhagar's muzzle.

Both dragons squawked loudly, but he wasn't sure if it was an expression of threat or greeting.

After all, they had flown together in the skies for many years.

"I thought you were a man, nephew, yet you hide behind my daughter's skirt like a coward." He exclaimed mockingly, pulling his helmet off his head.

He was exactly as he remembered him – his ironic grin, his narrow, shrewd gaze, the lightness and pride with which he spoke made him feel an unpleasant wave of humiliation flow along his spine.

"I named my hound after you, Father." He heard his wife's voice at his side and lifted his chin higher, feeling a sudden, pleasant shiver of satisfaction.

Daemon pressed his lips into a thin line, but did not look at her, as if afraid of what he might see.

"My wife longed to greet her father. Who am I to take that right away from her?" He hummed, feeling a sudden surge of confidence, realising they had the advantage over him.

Two dragons against one.

His uncle snorted and shook his head, looking up at the stars above their heads as if bored.

"You tell me. You took away her right to decide for herself when you abducted her to the Red Keep. Did you ask her opinion on the matter then too?" He sneered.

"That is no longer your concern." His wife said coldly, looking at Daemon in a way he had never seen before – her face was stony and cold, her forehead smooth, her eyebrows raised in disapproval and some kind of disgust, her hands clenched into fists.

Her father finally looked at her and it made him uneasy – he had the feeling that they had both forgotten his presence for a moment.

He swallowed hard and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing what he had feared.

Her mask was slowly cracking, showing the pain, regret and disappointment that filled her whole heart.

"Where were you when this happened? How did you protect me that you have the audacity to mention it now?" She asked sternly, making him feel an unpleasant sting in his heart.

Where were you when this happened?

His hand clamped around her neck as if he wanted to strangle her, his fingers gripping her hair, pressing her face to the ground.

"I sent my men to deal with the matter. However, they did not find your husband, for he was with his whore at the time. These fools killed the boy." Daemon said dispassionately making his heart stop beating for a moment.

I sent my men to deal with the matter.

Daemon didn't send them in revenge for Luke.

He sent them in revenge for her.

His wife seemed as shocked as he was, as she simply looked at her father in disbelief, as if she could not find the right words to answer him.

"Then the matter was determined. I would have tried to intervene again by force, but Lysa kept me informed of what was happening. That you were succumbing to your tormentor and his manipulations. Therefore, you have put me in an impossible situation." He concluded.

Lysa.

Her servant had been spying for him.

He felt himself begin to boil with rage, feeling like a little boy who had been fooled again.

From the very beginning he thought he had gained the upper hand over him, and it was the complete opposite.

While Daemon knew everything about them, he had no information about what was happening in Dragonstone.

"My mother. Did you kill her?" Her voice full of anger and grief snapped him out of his reverie.

"I did." Her father replied without hesitation.

"Why? Haven't you taken enough of her?" She asked in pain.

"For months she had the woman who cared for you add poison to your milk. Measter, when he realised, informed your cousin and he informed me. When I arrived, you were already in a fever." He said annoyed, speaking louder and louder with every word.

When I was a child I often had trouble falling asleep.

My nanny would then bring me warm milk mixed with honey and ground grains brought from distant Essos.

He looked at her, feeling that the situation was beginning to get out of hand – he hadn't expected any discussion to occur or what their would hear – his wife's face twisted into a grimace, as if her father had slapped her across the face.

"I don't believe you." She muttered.

"She wanted to get rid of you. When I offered to take you to King's Landing, she refused. I had no choice but to kill the whore."

"You left me behind!" She whined, as if someone was forcing a blade into her body, Sheepstealers squawked loudly, feeling her pain.

"I will take you with me this time. But you must let me resolve the matter between me and my nephew. Do not interfere. Caraxes!" He called out, and his dragon squealed loudly, raising its head, ready to attack.

"NO!" He heard her shout, but neither of them listened to her anymore.

"Angōs, Vhagar! (Attack, Vhagar!)" He shouted in response, and the two great beasts collided with each other, sinking their fangs into each other's bodies. Vhagar jerked, biting a chunk of flesh from Caraxes stomach, but he was not indebted to her and drove his claws into her gut.

Both dragons squawked in pain and flapped their wings, trying to separate and lift themselves into the air. When Caraxes let her go, he pulled on the ropes and forced his dragoness to soar up and then down, opening her maw wide.

"DRAKARYS!" He and Daemon shouted at the same moment, and two long columns of fire struck each other in the air, lighting up the night sky around them. He turned on his saddle, trying to escape the hot flames, panting with exertion, seeing only the endlessly black sheet of water below him.

Was this what she had seen in her dream?

Caraxes shot upwards like a serpentine, folding his wings along his body, flying on them at tremendous speed – his voice stuck in his throat, and no command left his lips when he caught sight of Daemon's silhouette leaping off the back of his dragon, falling on top of him with the sword in his hand, gripped so as to thrust it into his head.

He knew he wouldn't be able to dodge, and even if he succeeded, Daemon would finish the job when Caraxes hit Vhagar.

His body froze, fear paralysed his limbs, disbelief and terror surged like lightning along his spine.

Then he heard a swish – his uncle seemed surprised, his mouth opened wide as the arrowhead slammed into his neck, the only place that was exposed. The impact changed the trajectory of his flight – he heard him draw in air loudly before he began to fall downwards.

He clenched his hands tightly on the ropes tied to his saddle as Caraxes slammed into Vhagar – his dragoness acted without his commands, immediately thrusting her fangs and claws into his flesh, tearing him apart.

He sighed as Sheepstealer and she flashed beneath him – his heart thumped hard in his chest as he saw Daemon's body fall into the water, and she jumped after him.

"– hāedar! –" He shouted in a breaking voice, not knowing what to do, how to help her, how to react to what she had just done.

Did she know how to swim?

He had never done that, and if he jumped in after her in full armour, they would both drown.

"Dohaerās, Vhagar! (Serve me, Vhagar!)" He howled, with all the strength he had in his arms pulling at the ropes, trying to direct Vhagar to the place over which the Sheepstealer was circling, squealing and wailing, the numb body of Caraxes fell down with his cry.

He thought he could try to drop her rope, but Vhagar's wings hovering over the surface of the water caused waves to form.

She won't be able to swim out, he thought in despair.

"FUCK!" He groaned and burst out crying as he soared higher, circling above the place, quickly unbuckling all the pieces of armour he was able to remove on his own, wanting to jump in after her.

Then Sheepstealer suddenly changed the course of his flight, folded his wings so that his silhouette formed a straight line, and hit the water with all his might, disappearing beneath its surface.

He was panting heavily, looking at the place where they both disappeared, hearing the sound of the wind all around him, panting all over with fear and terror, whooping with his tears.

"– gods, please – please, please, please, not her –"

He shuddered as Sheepstealer's silhouette suddenly emerged from the water with a mighty splash, her drenched silhouette lying helplessly between his fangs.

"– hāedar! –" He shouted, flying after them towards the shore where her dragon had finally landed.

He saw Sheepstealer gently open his maw, letting her body slide to the ground – he jumped off his saddle, sliding down the ropes, falling heavily to his knees. He thought he had probably just broken something, but he didn't care, immediately throwing himself towards her.

He turned her onto her back – she was all wet and pale, her eyes closed, her mouth wide open as if she wanted to take a breath, but was unable to.

"– hāedar – gods, what have you done –" He exhaled, grabbing her into his embrace, lifting her to sit so that he threw her head over his shoulder, slapping her back hard with his palm.

"– come on – come on, breathe, come back to me –" He mumbled, hitting harder – he let out a sigh of relief as she coughed and spat out the water that flowed into her lungs, catching a loud, raspy breath.

"– that's it – that's it – that's my girl –" He whispered, feeling her whole body tremble in his embrace – he snuggled her into him, but the steel of his armour was cold and she was drenched.

He grabbed her under the hips and lifted her with an effort, limping on one leg, feeling more and more clearly that he had probably twisted his ankle when he jumped off Vhagar.

He sat down with her next to Sheepstealer's stomach, the warmest part of any dragon's body – Sheepstealer settled in such a way that he enveloped their bodies on each side, clearly understanding what he wanted to do.

He heard her burst into sobs, and while part of him was furious that she had thrown herself after him, the other part of him was just happy that she was alive.

"– I didn't – I didn't want to hurt him – I-I just wanted him not to reach you – he – he grabbed my hand, and then he let me go – I wanted to save him, but he let me go – why, why did he do that? –" She mumbled in a breaking voice, breathing louder and louder, as if the mere memory of what had happened made her panic.

Because it wouldn't have changed anything anyway, he thought in the back of his head.

His body trembling all over after Luke disappeared inside Vhagar's maw with his loud, childish cry, his face pressed against the front of his saddle, his heart pounding like mad in terror, his throat and lungs compressed as if he were suffocating, tears of fear running down his face.

All I wanted was his eye, as atonement for mine.

I killed a man.

"– easy –" He whispered, pressing his nose into her wet hair, feeling the moisture from her clothes and skin slowly begin to evaporate under the heat.

He felt like he would literally boil in his armour under the temperature, but he knew he couldn't let her go now.

He was alone then, but he wasn't going to let the same thing happen to her.

Because of the fact that he understood how she felt, he knew what she needed.

"– if it wasn't for you, he would have killed me – you saw for yourself – it was a battle – I owe you my life, zaldrītsos –" He whispered, stroking her back, placing warm, gentle kisses on her face.

She covered her eyes with her hands, wailing and moaning, the pain that tore at her heart unbearable.

"– no – no, no, no, no –" She mumbled, and he pressed his lips together, knowing that this was exactly what it would be like for the next few weeks, maybe even months.

Denial, remorse, rage, grief, despair, pain, nightmares and panic.

Everything he was experiencing deep inside himself, she would be experiencing now and there was nothing he could do to ease her suffering.

He could only be.

"– tell me it's not true – that I didn't do it – that it's just a bad dream – please, lēkia, I need to hear it –" She pleaded like a small child in hysterics, her trembling hand gripping his cheek, asking him to look at her in this way.

He swallowed hard, finally pressing his forehead against hers, running the tip of his nose over the soft skin of her face.

"– I'll be by your side all the time – I won't leave you for a moment – I promise –"

"– GET OUT –" She shouted, pushing him away suddenly, enraged that he didn't comply with her request, wanting to get up.

"– hāedar –" He sighed, holding her tightly.

"– GET OUT – GET OUT – GET OUT –" She sobbed, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her hands, panting heavily, trying to move away from him, acting more like a wild animal than a human being.

"– I can't – you're all soaked – we need to keep you warm –" He explained calmly, feeling strangely in control, not experiencing any irritation or anger looking at her behaviour.

She was horrified by what she had done and was in shock, and he had to help her get through it now.

It's going to be worse once she calms down and locks herself deep inside her, he thought, struggling with her, holding her close.

"– I want to get back in the water – he's still there – maybe he's still alive –" She mumbled, completely absorbed in the chaos of her thoughts and despair, extending her hand towards the surface of the lake.

"– I can't let you do it, zaldrītsos – he's no longer suffering – he's with our ancestors in the heavens – my father is surely just now welcoming him with open arms –" He whispered, and she whined loudly at his words, leaning low, pressing her face against his thigh.

He held her close and stroked her body, her hair, her shoulders, her back, wanting her to feel that he was there for her even if she couldn't understand it now.

When he was going through it himself, all he wanted was for someone to embrace him, to stroke his head, to tell him that he was forgiven, that he wasn't a bad man, that it was an accident.

That's why he knew how important it was for her to understand that she had saved his life.

"– if it wasn't for you, his blade would have pierced my skull – I would have fallen into the water with him – we would have both be dead –" He said softly, hearing her breathing loudly, slowly calming down.

At one point there was complete silence and he knew that this was the moment – he grabbed her in his arms and instructed her to hold on to him tightly as he began to climb up onto Vhagar's back.

He knew that in such a state she would not be able to fly on Sheepstealer.

When they returned to Harrenhal, it was beginning to dawn – the sun was lazily rising over the horizon. His wife was breathing and that was the only sign that she was alive – her body sitting in front of him in the saddle was devoid of strength, her face turned to the side, her empty gaze staring into the distance.

Her thoughts were far away, with her father when she was still a small child.

When they landed, instead of riding a horse, he made his way from Vhagar's liege to the fortress on foot, despite the pain in his ankle. He was in no hurry – he held her in his arms, her hands thrown around his neck, her legs entwined at his back. She clung to him like a baby and he didn't want her to have to change position, to pull away from him, from his body, his closeness and warmth.

She was like a little child that had left her mother's womb anew, terrified of how cold and cruel the world around her was.

Criston Cole ran out to meet them, spotting them from the walls of the stronghold.

"Good gods, what has happened? Where have you been?" He asked.

He stopped, looking at him indifferently, feeling a painful throbbing in his leg, his hand stroking her back reassuringly.

"Daemon is dead."

260 notes · View notes

honnelander · 1 year ago

Note

OK SO I HAVE THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD AND I HAVE TO TELL YOU, I can't stop laughing imagining that scenario xdxdxdxdxd

Well, then imagine go fish! Sanji takes (Y/N) to meet Zeff and Zeff being the good father he is, "accidentally" spoils the tea in front of everyone because he is so done with the drama around. 😂 😂 😂 😂

UMMM OK I LOVE THISSS!! this technically won't be go fish!Sanji BUT my interpretation of Sanji will pretty much always be like that.

here's Zeff "accidentally" spilling the beans about Sanji's affections for reader: (i can't believe this blew up to like 3k words rip)

masterlist

Zeff wasn't stupid.

He's been around the block a couple of times in his life and when Sanji's semi-regular letters to him had shifted from casual life updates and started to be more and more about details and little interactions he had with you, some girl Zeff had never met before, well, it was easy for the head chef to put two and two together: Sanji was in love.

And he was in love with you.

Now, while Sanji might not technically be his son by birthright, there was no way he didn't consider Sanji to be his own living and breathing kin, especially after everything they've been through together, 'pedigree' rules be damned.

Zeff truly loved that boy. Throughout their time together, he had raised Sanji from being a snotty-nosed brat into the respectable man that he was today and, in Zeff's mind, part of being a respectable man included knowing how to treat a woman properly.

Ever since he was a young boy, Zeff could see that Sanji took a special liking towards girls and then young women. The retired captain had lost count of the number of times he had to berate Sanji into getting back to work and to leave the wooing for after dinner service and his own personal time, but the scoldings never stuck. Sanji would always be Sanji, and that meant the lad had an endless wandering eye and a sharp silver tongue, no matter what.

To say that Zeff was sad to see Sanji go with Luffy that day was an understatement, he was devastated, but he knew, ever since he had held a knife to his throat during their first encounter, that Sanji was meant for bigger things. For things bigger than cooking up the same old dinner specials every night and breaking up drunk pirate fights on the regular. Sanji was bigger than the Baratie, so when Luffy had made his infamous offer to his pseudo-son, a part of Zeff was relieved because that meant that Sanji could finally start living the life he was always meant to live, and that was one of a pirate.

Zeff had also made peace with the very real fact that he might never see or hear from Sanji again. He (and Sanji) knew all too well how quickly something could go from bad to worse to life-threatening in an instant out on the open ocean, and if Luffy was truly determined to find the one piece and have Sanji join his crew, then Zeff knew that seeing him off that day was probably the last time he would ever see his son alive.

So, imagine his surprise when he received his first letter from him.

At first, he thought it was a joke, that one of the line cooks in the kitchen was pulling a cruel prank on him by writing him a fake letter in Sanji's unmistakable handwriting, but when he finally ripped open the envelope and found out that yes, Sanji did, in fact, write him a letter, well... it had actually brought a tear to his eye.

From that point forward, Zeff found himself eagerly awaiting Sanji's letters. He loved to hear all about the outlandish adventures that crew seemed to always find themselves in and it made Zeff nostalgic for his days at sea. There was never any return address, since the crew was constantly on the move, and Zeff expected as such, so he could never send a reply but that didn't mean he wasn't grateful for each and every letter he received.

Zeff should've realized that something was up though when Sanji had first mentioned you in one of his letters. Sanji's letters would come every couple of months and they, surprisingly, never mentioned any young lass or any other pretty girl he would meet during an island visit unless it was a woman they had ended up fighting.

So, when Sanji had first mentioned you to him, saying how you were the newest straw hat to join the crew, Zeff had thought it was just business as usual. However, what wasn't 'just business as usual' was when the rest of the letter had turned into a little biography about you; where you were from, how old you were, what your home life was like, that you had also agreed that 'oregano was for savages', etc., and the letter ended up being nearly ten pages long.

Then, after your 'introduction' in Sanji's letters to him, you were practically the subject of them all going forward, each one getting longer than the last. Gone were the letters detailing Sanji's adventures, and in came the letters describing the interactions you two had or what topics had come up in your conversations with each other.

At first, Zeff thought it was just another one of Sanji's infatuations (the boy was a huge flirt after all) but when more and more details were provided, and the letters started becoming longer, it was obvious to Zeff that Sanji was in love with you.

And why didn't Sanji just admit his feelings to you? He had no clue. Maybe it was partially his fault too, since Zeff never remembered having that 'what to do when you truly love a girl' talk with him, but he had hoped that Sanji would eventually be fed up with all the back and forth between the both of you and finally just confess already, but that declaration of "I confessed my love to her and she reciprocated" line never was brought up in any of the letters.

And Zeff was feeling himself go crazy the longer this went on. The 'drama' that was occurring between you both was driving him nuts and he vowed that if he ever saw Sanji and the rest of the straw hat crew at the Baratie again, that he would confess Sanji's feelings towards you for him. I mean... someone had to.

Then one day his lucky day came.

"Zeff!" a voice called out from the top of the stairs one afternoon before the day's first dinner service, a voice that Zeff thought he would never hear again. "There you are, you old shitbag!"

Immediately, Zeff stopped talking to the wait staff, turning his body to look up at where he heard the voice come from, his hands on his hips, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing: there was Sanji, a huge smile on his face, standing with practically the same crew that he had waved goodbye to nearly two years ago.

"Oi! Sanji!" Zeff yelled out, his own disbelieving smile lighting up his face. "I never thought I'd see your ugly mug around here again."

Sanji laughed at that as he quickly bounded down the stairs, enveloping him in a bear hug. "That makes two of us!" He pulled back, his blue eyes lighting up in pure happiness as he quickly took Zeff in, patting him on the shoulder as he said, "And look at you, you practically look exactly the same as the day I left you."

As Zeff took in Sanji's appearance, he realized that he couldn't say the same about him. Sanji looked older, not in a bad way, but in a more mature way. He looked like he was growing into the man that he was always meant to be.

And Zeff couldn't have been more proud.

"Well, I can't say the same about you little eggplant. You look like a seasoned pirate to me." Both of them dropped their arms off of each other and Zeff put his hands back on his hips. "You keepin' your feet dry?"

Sanji mirrored his pose, a small laugh escaping his lips as he looked down for a second. "Yeah," he said and looked back up at Zeff, a knowing glint in his blue eyes. "Yeah, I am."

Zeff knew right then that everything with his son was alright. "Good."

"Hey, uh, I wanted to introduce you to someone," Sanji started, looking slightly bashful as he looked back down at the floor and put his hands in his pockets. "She's the-"

"Girl from the letters?" Zeff said with a small knowing smile, finding it endearing how his normally smooth-talking son was suddenly acting about this girl. If he didn't know any better, Sanji looked nervous (and Zeff knew he was).

At his words, Sanji's gaze immediately snapped up to meet Zeff's, his eyes becoming slightly wider, a hint of panic within them, as he quickly looked back towards the rest of his crew that had just started to make their way down the stairs and towards them.

"The newest member of our crew," Sanji emphasized loudly, letting out a fake laugh as he looked back at Zeff pointedly.

"Right," Zeff relented with a small disbelieving laugh of his own. "'Newest crewmember'. Got it."

And when Zeff turned his attention towards the straw hats, he immediately knew it was you before you even introduced yourself. Sure, you were the only new face in the small group of familiar faces, but he had to give credit to Sanji, he had definitely captured your looks and essence in his letters.

Zeff's smile widened. You were cute. From just by looking at you, he could tell you were a sweet and kind soul, it was no wonder Sanji loved you. You definitely looked like the type of person who would do all those things that Sanji had spoken about in his letters and he immediately approved of you. If Sanji had stood there and introduced you as his wife instead of 'his newest crewmember', he wouldn't have had any objections to that at all.

"Zeff, this is y/n," Sanji started, gesturing a hand out to you, Zeff noticing the way his son's eyes softened just by looking at you. "And, uh, you already know everyone else."

Zeff looked away from Sanji and down at you, seeing that you already had your hand out to shake his, a nervous smile plastered on your face.

He liked you.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Zeff, sir," you said, shaking his hand. "I've heard so much about you."

Now, even though Sanji had corrected him before about you, it didn't mean Zeff wasn't going to say anything.

"Aw, come on now, the pleasure is all mine little lass," Zeff replied, shaking your smaller hand with his bigger one. "It's nice to finally meet the girl that Sanji raves on about all the time."

From his peripheral, he could see Sanji stiffen.

Your eyes widened, your hand going limp in his as you asked, "Raves on about? Who, me? T-to you?"

Zeff's smile only grew wider and more cheeky. "Oh yeah, all the time," he said casually, as you both dropped hands. He placed his hands on his hips again and nodded towards his son. "You should see just how much of his letters are about you. It's like I get a damn novel every other month about your relationship," he joked.

"Zeff-" Sanji started but Zeff wasn't done.

He was on a roll and nothing was going to stop him. The more he spoke, however, the redder your face became.

"Oh yeah," the head chef continued, "from as much as Sanji talks about the two of you, I thought you two were in a relationship and said 'I love you' to each other already."

After he said that, the room got quiet. You stood there, completely frozen with wide eyes and a flushed face, like a deer in headlights, while Sanji stood as still as a statue. The rest of the straw hats stood quietly behind you three with varying looks of shock and awe on their faces at the display before them.

"Sanji," Luffy said, breaking the awkward silence first. "You love y/n?"

"Luffy!" Nami hissed.

"I knew it!" Usopp loudly and proudly declared, pointing a finger to the sky as he turned and laughed at the rest of the crew. "See, the great captain Usopp always knows the sparks of true love whenever he sees it," he said, hooking his thumbs at the top of his overalls with a grin.

Zoro snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. You wouldn't know what true love looked like even if it smacked you in the face."

"Says the guy who doesn't have a girlfriend," Usopp smugly retorted with a laugh.

Before Zoro could say anything back, Zeff spoke up. "Hey, straw hats," he called, grabbing their attention. "Why don't you lot come into the kitchen and sit at the chef's table? I'll have Patty and the rest of 'em cook you a couple of steaks however you want, on the house. I'll even throw in a couple of beers too."

"I'm in," Zoro said without missing a beat as he started making his way towards the kitchen, not needing to be asked twice.

"Ooo, free beers? Show captain Usopp the way, please," Usopp said, following Zoro through the kitchen doors.

At the mention of meat, Luffy immediately perked up and forgot about the situation before him. "Steaks? Would it be possible to have more than one?"

"Sure," Zeff agreed easily and nodded towards the kitchen. "Eat too many though and I'll have you back on dish duty again to pay your bill."

"Deal," Luffy quickly agreed and followed after his first mate and sharpshooter.

With a shared look, Nami and Zeff started making their way towards the kitchen together, both ignoring you and Sanji.

"How do you like your steak cooked Nami?" Zeff asked conversationally before disappearing behind the kitchen's double doors.

"Medium rare, actually," Nami replied and slipped in after him, leaving you and Sanji all alone in the dining room.

It was quiet for a solid minute, neither one of you moving or making a sound.

"So," you started, clearing your throat and looking over at Sanji. "You, uh... told Zeff about me?"

But Sanji couldn't look at you. In fact, he was looking at everywhere but you. His cheeks were flushed pink and the tips of his ears were red. He looked down at the ground with his hands on his hips.

"Yeah," he said, forcing out a slight laugh that sounded more painful than anything. "I, uh, told him a bit about you. Could you tell?" he asked, a hint of painful and playful sarcasm in his tone.

You couldn't help but laugh at his attempt at a joke. You could feel your heart start to race as you slowly took a couple of steps closer to him. "Yeah, I could tell," you replied playfully. "You really love me, Sanji?" you asked him softly after a beat.

Turning his head to the side, you could see a blush crawl up his neck. It was so cute, you don't think you've ever seen Sanji be this flustered or embarrassed before. "Uh, well," he stammered, "I-I didn't want you to find out like this. I had a plan and everything. But Zeff and his big mouth had to ruin-"

"Sanji," you said simply, cutting him off. "Look at me."

Before obeying your command, Sanji took a deep breath, like he was bracing himself for the inevitable letdown and rejection he was used to receiving from women throughout his life.

When he looked down at you and met your stare, his eyes were filled with apprehension. "Yes?"

You wanted to do nothing in that moment but quelch his fears. "Oh, just come here," you said.

In one swift motion, you grabbed him by his tie and pulled him down into a kiss, capturing his lips with your own. You felt him stiffen in surprise, but once it hit him that you were, indeed, kissing him, he immediately relaxed and put his hands on either side of your face, his fingers entangling themselves into your hair, deepening the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your mouth moving in sync as you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Was this real life?

After a moment, you pulled apart, panting slightly for air. You both looked at each other, faces flushed, neither one of you expecting to share your first kiss in the middle of the empty Baratie dining room.

"I love you too."

The smile that broke out across Sanji's face was brighter than the sun. But before he could say anything, you both could hear Usopp yelling from inside the kitchen.

"Guys! They kissed! See, I told you they would!" He declared loudly before turning away from the small circular window. "Zoro and Nami, you each owe twenty berry! Come on, pay up!" he laughed like a high roller that just won big, making his way back into the kitchen.

At the sound of loud protesting and groaning coming from the kitchen, you giggled, hiding your face in his chest from embarrassment.

"Oh god," you groaned.

"Aw come now, no need to be embarrassed, Madam," Sanji teased. "If they're placing bets on us, might as well give them a show to bet on, yeah?"

When you peeked up at him, you could see a mischievous glint in his eye as he scanned over your pretty face and back down to your lips before looking back into your eyes. His look made your heart skip a beat.

"Sounds like a plan to me," you answered with a small laugh before you pulled him back down to kiss him all over again.

taglist: @smolracoon25 @shadydeanmuffin @cherrypie5 @sauceonmyshorts @hhighkey @gimmebackmyskeeball @he4vens-ang3l @selcouthaesthetics @chexmixtrys @princettecharlie @amitydoodlez @abracarabbit @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @mischiefmanaged71 @asianfrustration13 @shuujin @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @browneyedhufflepuff @stevenknightmarc @deserticwren

#sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader #opla!sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #one piece x reader #sanji fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece #one piece live action #opla #black leg sanji x reader #opla!sanji x you

1K notes · View notes