#Edmund x fem!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

themessedupsonata · 1 year

Text

A Little Favour

Edmund Pevensie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend Edmund (aka the love of your life) asks you to help him invite his crush on a date.

word count: 2.6 k

warnings: none ig. Slight angst but most fluff and a slight mention of sex but not really

A/N: I pictured this story happening post WW2, but I made no references to the 40s so it can be read as a modern au

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life...”

Edward Rochester's speech was rudely interrupted by some inconvenient person who was knocking at your door. You rolled your eyes and mumbled a "come in" loud enough so whoever was on the other side of the door could hear you.

Edmund Pevensie's head popped through the small space of the half-opened door and you completely forgot why you were angry in the first place.

"Hi Y/N/N. Can we talk?" He smiled nervously.

You nodded and he sat down on the small couch that was in front of your bed so you could look at each other comfortably.

"I missed you, ya know?"

"We saw each other yesterday afternoon, Ed."

"Yesterday didn't count, Y/N. We were with my siblings." He pointed.

Edmund had a point. You loved Peter, Susan and Lucy; but you had multiple intimate matters that you preferred to talk about with Ed only.

"What did you want to talk about? Sounds important."

You were always closest to Edmund than of the other Pevensies. Since the two of you were four, you've been best friends. People were right, you and Ed were always joined at the hip. It was always you and him against the world and you hoped it would stay that way forever.

"I'm in love."

Your world stopped. Well, apparently it wouldn't be just the two of you against the world anymore. Now you would have to share your best friend.

"Oh, Hm… I- didn't see that coming. I mean, that’s great! If…" You trailed off with the words, but Ed seemed too lost in his thoughts that most likely involved this girl to hear you. "If you're happy, so am I!"

You knew very well that it was selfish, but you wanted him to be happy with you. You knew him better than anyone, he loved your company and even though you doubted his words a little, he always said you were cute. Why weren't you good enough for the boy you’ve been in love with for six years?

You bit your bottom lip to keep your eyes from filling with tears and discreetly cleared your throat before leaning forward slightly from your spot on the bed to snap your fingers in front of Edmund’s face, who had his head in the clouds.

"Oh, sorry. I… I'm just kind of nervous, you know? That's why I came here. I need your help to ask her out on a date." He spoke so quickly that you almost didn't understand him. He was avoiding your eyes, clearly nervous.

You sighed tiredly and knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You weren't being fair. For years you were the most important girl in his life (after his sisters and his mother of course) and your approval clearly means the world to him. If you were as madly in love with someone as Ed seemed to be with this girl, you also would be heartbroken if your best friend didn't support you.

"Of course, I'll help you, Ed. I'm happy for you. What do you have in mind for the date?"

He sighed in relief and was already visibly more relaxed.

"I'm not sure. That's why I came to you. I suspect my siblings know, but I don't want to hear their taunts. Especially if she dumps me."

You ignored all the negative feelings that came with this sentence and focused only on your friend.

"Be optimistic, okay? You're an amazing guy and if she dumps you, it’s her loss. And I think I can help you much more if you tell me who she is." You suggested.

Edmund was never one to be easily embarrassed, but for some reason today he was blushing like there was no tomorrow.

"I don't think I have a chance with her, okay? I'd rather not say who she is for now. I trust you and know you'll know how to help me plan the perfect date."

Only a mad person could agree with …

"Of course I can help you, Ed."

Mad; that's what you are.

His face lit up

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N! You're the best!" He exclaimed, getting up to hug you.

You always forgot about the rest of the world when you were with Ed. You'd give anything to be able to smell his cologne, bury your face in his neck, and be held in his warm arms for eternity.

But that would never be possible.

Because he would never be yours.

***

You guys were meeting every day to decide how Ed could ask out the mysterious girl (Yes, he was still refusing to tell you who she was) a couple of weeks ago. You honestly had no idea who she could be because as far as you knew, you were the only girl he interacts with. Your only suspect was Chloe Chapman, the most beautiful girl of your school year. She lent her eraser to you in the biology class so she was probably very nice. But she had travelled to America with her family and she would spend the whole summer there and Edmund wanted to arrange the date for three days from now. There was no way it could be her.

Apparently, your best friend knew this girl very well. He knew her favourite flowers and snacks, (Which was very helpful as he wanted the date to be a picnic) Ed insisted it would be perfect as she wouldn't like something too expensive and elaborate while also wanting something special and unique. That day you cried yourself to sleep because a picnic was your idea of the perfect date and you loved to fantasize about sharing that experience with Edmund. But now he would realize your dream with someone else.

Life was very unfair.

To make everything worse, he begged you to wait with him until she arrived. Edmund would never ask you to stay on the date with him because he wanted to have a private moment with the girl of his dreams and didn't want to make you uncomfortable being the third wheel. But he wanted you to stay with him to give him moral support until she shows up.

That was the only time in your life you hated being best friends with him.

At that very moment, you were in Edmund's room. He told you he was going to ask the mysterious girl out this afternoon and he would be here any minute with her answer.

A part of you really wanted her to say 'yes' because Ed was madly in love with her and you didn't want him to be heartbroken if she rejected him. But you couldn't help but wish she would say' no' because if she accepts, you knew Edmund would fight until the end for their relationship to last and you would be obligated to be his maid of honour and eventually the godmother of his children. The thought made you shiver.

You nearly had a heart attack when the door burst open and Edmund appeared, looking like he had won a million pounds in a marathon.

"She said yes!" he exclaimed. You've never seen him so happy before

“Oh my God, Ed! I'm so happy for you!" You replied, doing your best to look enthusiastic.

The two of you held each other for a while until Edmund broke the comfortable silence.

“You will be there, right?” he murmured against your hair.

“Of course, Ed. I will always be there when you need me.” That was the first completely true sentence you've said to him since he told you about the mysterious girl.

"Good. Thank you for everything” He pulled away from you just enough so that he could look to your face.

You were almost sure he stared at your lips and he was just as stunned by the proximity as you were. But he gently turned away from you and went to his desk to get the little notebook you both were using to plan Edmund's date. You tweaked the last details for the rest of the afternoon, but you noticed the way he avoided your gaze the entire time and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.

***

Today was the big day. Edmund asked you to get ready because you were meeting the mysterious girl today and he really wanted you to make a good impression on her so you both could become friends.

Fantastic. Simply fantastic.

You picked up your favourite summer dress and put on some simple makeup. It was an outdoor picnic after all.

Edmund arranged for you to meet at 3:30 pm at a flower shop near Primrose Hill, the place where the date would happen. Arriving at the store, it wasn't long before you found him and you forgot how to breathe when you saw the owner of your heart wearing a plain blue sweater and comfy trousers that you'd never seen him wear before. Apparently, he took your advice and bought new clothes for the occasion. He looked adorable.

“Hi, Ed” You called out to get his attention.

He turned to you and you felt your cheeks heat up as you felt his gaze travel over your body.

“You are…Wow! Y/N…I don't even have the words to say how beautiful you look” he said nervously, the pure adoration in his voice making your stomach flutter.

“Thanks, Ed. You look good too” You smiled.

The two of you quickly pulled yourselves together and set out on a journey to buy the perfect flowers for his date. In addition to her favourite flowers (which coincidentally were your favourite flowers as well), he asked the seller for help buying flowers with specific meanings. You were passionate about flowers, but you never learned about their meanings and the only flower Edmund knew was the mysterious girl’s favourite. According to the seller, red roses mean romance, tulips are true love and alstroemerias mean loyalty. You were both completely embarrassed when the kind florist recommended with a smirk that Ed buy lilies too because they mean eroticism and sexuality. He bought five different types of flowers in addition to the mysterious girl's favourites and left the store.

You were slightly nervous to get to Primrose Hill because Edmund insisted on decorating it himself, despite your pleas. You loved his best friend, but he didn't have a lot of decorating sense.

He had specifically arranged for the date to be at Ed's favourite tree at 4:00 pm, the tree was set back from the rest of the park for privacy but it was still a beautiful spot. That was the two of you's favourite hangout spot since you were kids and you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he's using your two's special spot to have a date with a girl.

You were starting to worry that he would stop caring so much about you now that he had a possible girlfriend.

The two of you arrived on the date and you were shocked to see the most beautiful picnic setting ever. Indeed, the flowers were still missing to complete the decoration, but the delicate tablecloth was full of your favourite foods that looked absolutely delicious and the comical picnic basket gave it a special charm.

“It's way too beautiful. You didn't do this on your own.” That was the first thing you said.

Ed shrugged, but you didn't miss the boyish smile on his face.

“My sisters helped me. I thought I had already overloaded you so I asked for more help. But I am offended that you would assume that I couldn't make something beautiful on my own, Y/N/N.” He said, pretending to be offended.

You helped him put the finishing touches on with the flowers and you can't help but sigh as you look at the most adorable picnic you've ever seen.

You would give anything for Ed to have done all that specifically for you.

"It's 5 minutes to 4:00 pm" Ed commented while looking at his wristwatch.

You nodded and you two sat down next to each other.

“I don't know her” You broke the comfortable silence after a few minutes.

He looked at you with confusion written on his face.

“I don't know her, Ed. But I see how much she seems to make you happy and I've never seen your eyes so bright as when you talk about her. She clearly is your world and you wouldn't have made something so beautiful and special if you didn't love her. I'm so glad you found her, Edmund… I wish the world to you both because I feel like you were made for each other” You commented, surprised that your voice didn't choke.

Every word you said was like a knife in your heart, but it was the truth. You loved him unconditionally, and you knew that Edmund loved her as much as you loved him. He still looked confused by your words, but it didn't matter. You needed to accept that you both just weren't meant to be and that was okay. You were strong and deep down you knew you would get over it. The important thing is that Ed was happy and that you will never stop being best friends.

When you looked up from your lap, you looked at your best friend's face. He had a neutral expression that didn't give away what he was thinking, but you'd never seen him look so peaceful before.

He looked away from your gaze to look at the wristclock.

“It's 4:00 pm, Y/N. I think it's time.”

You nodded in acceptance with some unshed tears and got up off the ground, walking peacefully away from Ed so he could enjoy his long-awaited date.

“Y/N where are you going?” You heard Ed's voice after walking a little less than a meter.

You turned around, confused only to see an Edmund who was clearly trying very hard not to burst out laughing. The left hand was shoved in the pocket of the trousers and the right held the bouquet with the favourite flowers of the mysterious girl.

Wait…

are the mysterious girl, Y/N/N. I can't believe you didn't notice sooner!" He exclaimed with a huge smile on his face.

"What?!?"

“These are your favourite things, sweetheart. I wanted to know your opinion about everything because it was everything for you.

“But… That day you said she said yes” You pointed, still not believing the situation you were in.

“It needed to be believable. I really wanted to ask you out like a normal person, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way. I thought that if you saw how well I know you and how thoughtful I could be as a boyfriend you would want me. I'm sorry if I hurte--"

You threw yourself into his arms and kissed him passionately. His lips were as soft and sweet as you'd imagine. He tasted like home.

“Of course, I feel the same, Ed. It's impossible not to love you." You smiled, leaning your forehead against his.

He stole one more peck and held you by the hand so you could enjoy the picnic. The long-awaited date would be the beginning of the most beautiful love story between two soulmates.

269 notes · View notes

pariahsparadise · 1 year

Text

ye of little faith | e. p.

nav. | m.list

summary: eustace doesn't believe that edmund has a girlfriend.

wc: 800

pairings: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: VERY unedited. also it's 1am and i just wrote this in a burst of inspiration, so please don't expect it to be good.

a/n: i don't really know if this will make sense to anyone lol, i think i wrote it in a confusing way, but hopefully it's okay. it's mostly eustace's pov, i wanted to try something new. also, this exact scenario has been in my head for months now.

“There’s no way he has a girlfriend,” Eustace tells Lucy, barging into the room. She immediately knows who he’s talking about, able to hear Edmund on the phone downstairs, voice softer than it usually is, taking the tone he automatically opts for when he speaks to Y/N.

“Why?” Lucy asks, half-heartedly entertaining her annoying cousin while she thumbs through the pages of her book. Unfortunately for her, Eustace Scrubb brightens at the attention, straightening up and launching into a rather well-thought out spiel.

“First of all, it’s Edmund we’re talking about. He’s awkward, way too hostile and bad-tempered. Not to mention, he’s barely of average height, and his hair? Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Y/N likes it,” Lucy says mildly, earning a scoff from Eustace.

“Y/N.” he says with disbelieving scorn, “As if she actually exists. You expect me to believe that a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you lot claim she is would actually be interested in Edmund? And so interested that she calls and writes to him multiple times a week? Yeah, right. I bet that Ed’s hired an escort to help him forget about how lonely he actually is. Or he’s paying some poor girl to play the part of a caring partner.” Eustace has had many such theories, the more creative ones dealing with blackmail and holding family members hostage, but so far, monetary imbursements seem to be the most likely.

“Sure, Eustace,” Lucy mumbles, having checked out of the conversation a while ago. He shakes his head at her disinterest, convinced that he is right, and leaves the room, muttering to himself disbelievingly.

A few days later, a painting gushes out water and swallows them whole, so poor Eustace, although having taunted his cousins with his skepticisms about the magical land of Narnia and called them fools for believing in the same, is forced to confront that he was wrong.

Eustace is soaking wet and miserable, still slightly panic infused. He can’t believe his eyes, convinced that he hallucinated the last fifteen minutes. Sitting on the ship, the Dawn Treader, he watches as his cousins are recognised as King and Queen. He’s related to royalty.

With a humorous snort, he realises that this is more believable than Edmund Pevensie having a girlfriend.

Hell, even the talking rat next to him is more believable.

He goes to voice the same, but is distracted by a joyous whoop descending from the sky, followed by a splash in the ocean. Eustace is too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the figure underwater to notice the hopeful glances Edmund and Lucy exchange, the faint tremour in Edmund’s hands as he snatches a telescope from a passing crew member, getting a clearer view.

“It is her!” Ed cries, only barely held back from jumping overboard by Caspian, who laughs fondly at the Just King. Eustace tries to hear what the Prince tells Edmund, but all noise turns to mush the second he sees the young woman surface, a brilliant smile on her face.

At first glance, he thinks it’s a siren. He’s heard stories about their enchanting beauty and ethereal forms, and Eustace does genuinely believe that this woman is too gorgeous to be human like he is. As she swims closer, though, and the ship's crew help pull her onto the ship, Eustace notices the lack of a tail. And though her hair is soaked and strewn across her face, and her clothes suction themselves to her skin, none of it takes away from her radiance.

It also doesn’t distract him from the fact that she’s walking right towards him.

Eustace’s mouth goes bone dry, and he gulps nervously, afraid she’ll talk to him and afraid she won’t, when suddenly, Edmund swoops past him and towards the woman. He snatches her up in a passionate embrace, hands securing her to him as he twirls her around in sheer delight.

When they kiss, chaste but heady, Eustace decides that he has never actually known anything about anything.

He’s scouring the sky for flying pigs when he hears Edmund’s self-satisfied voice behind him, “And this, my very real girlfriend, Y/N, would be my cousin, Eustace Scrubb.”

“How do you do?” Eustace says weakly, extending a hand, trying his hardest not to faint when you take it.

“Pretty well. If only Edmund would- what was it again?- stop holding my family hostage, I think I’d be great,” you rib amiably, throwing back one of Eustace’s earliest theories back into his now scarlet face.

“No, darling, you’ve got it wrong, I’ve currently got your dogs kidnapped and ready to be shipped to the pound, remember?” Edmund joins in on the fun, his smile widening as he earns a couple of chuckles from you, and a darker flush from Eustace’s cheeks.

Eustace Scrubb, though unwilling, is forced to admit, after watching the two of you interact, gravitating towards each other naturally, at ease with the love that surrounds you, his cousin’s eyes brighter than he’s ever seen them, that it is very believable for Edmund Pevensie to be dating Y/N L/N after all.

2K notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 8 months

Text

Life from a New Perspective

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Fem!reader

Characters: Peter Pevensie, Susan Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie, Lucy Pevensie, Fem!reader, Reepicheep, Oreius

Warnings: Fluff, fighting, Narnia in another battle, this came out of nowhere, I don't know where this was really going but I went with it, stupid backstory for the storyline to make sense, Edmund needed to meet his match, this is oddly cute, I thought this was going to be cringey but I proved myself wrong lol, the title is 100% based on P!ATD song

Word Count: 784

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stop, breathing hard with the prickling sensation of the people chasing you are getting closer. You spin around and see a familiar-

You furrow your brows, fighting stance barely weakening. "Reepicheep?

The brave mouse lowers his sword and calls out your name. "I thought you died?"

"When has anything ever taken me down?"

He nods, "I knew I chose you for a reason."

"You did no such thing."

"Uh- sorry but you two know each other?" You turn to the dark-haired man.

Your eye twitches. "Royalty?"

"He is the second king of old."

"The young man?"

"I prefer to be called by my name."

You close your eyes, not wanting to shout at someone with royal status. "What's your name?"

He furrows his brows, confused about how much yet so little you know about him. "You don't know?"

"I prefer not going into town."

He raises a brow, “that’s not concerning to hear.”

“People don’t like me.”

“I wonder why," he mumbles, not meaning for you to hear.

You scoff, “until next time, Reepicheep.” You jump over a log and tale off.

“Now, look what you’ve done,” says the mouse.

“Me? If anything, it was you.”

“I did nothing to run her off. I’m the reason she stayed but then you opened your big mouth.”

Edmund rolls his eyes, “whatever, let’s go.”

They take off, meeting with his siblings and a few of their warriors.

“What are we going to do now?” Susan asks.

“We can go to the river and see who will be willing to fight from there?” Peter offers, not entirely sure where else they can go to find more Narnians.

“We would have had a good swordsman had you not talked,” Reepicheep grumbles.

“What’d you say?” Lucy turns to him.

“His majesty ran off our only hope.”

“What’s he talking about?” Peter turns to Edmund and then the mouse. “What are you talking about?”

“The sarcastic decided to open his mouth and run off my apprentice.”

“Apprentice?” Lucy chimes in. “When did you have an apprentice?”

“Well-”

A group of bandits come up from behind the trees.

“Where did your apprentice go?” Peter shouts, kicking the bandit back.

“How am I supposed to-”

You jump the tree branch you were perched on and swing across the way, kicking the one sneaking up behind Edmund.

“There she is.”

You duck just in time, giving the mouse a bridge to climb and attack. “Looks like we meet again,” you nod to the third eldest Pevensie.

“Looks like we do.”

“Let’s see if you fight as good as you talk,” the corner of your lips twitch.

“Believe me, I’m good with a sword.”

“Care to make a wager?”

“Like?”

“If we make it out of here alive, we spar together?”

“You’ll lose.”

You shrug, “I’ve always wanted to be defeated by a king,” you wink and run to help Lucy.

“Look who’s decided to come out of the woodworks,” Oreius says.

“Guess who’s still in the woods,” you respond.

“You’re still not funny.”

“I disagree. I’m hilarious.”

“I think Edmund’s found his match,” Lucy whispers to his siblings.

“Were they flirting while we were fighting?” Peter asks, still baffled about it.

“They were,” Susan pats his arm. “Is everyone alright?”

“Well, if everyone’s fine. I’ll be off now,” you try to sneak away when your favorite mouse stops you.

“Hold on there.” He stands upon a rock. “You’re not leaving so fast. I haven’t seen you since that idiot got thrown out of town.”

“What?”

“Yeah, after you left, we found him stealing from everyone and threw him out.”

“No one believed me.”

“I did, that’s why he's gone.”

You smirk, “I knew there was a reason we met.”

That certainly quiets him down. “I believe there is someone else for you to meet.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying.”

He shrugs, giving the young king enough time to walk up to you. “You fought well.”

You slowly turn, “I didn’t need to save you nearly as times as I thought.”

“I didn’t need saving.”

“That’s what you say but who was the one to take down the bandit sneaking up behind you.”

“I had it handled.”

A smile dances across your lips, “I know. I just wanted to mess with you.”

He stares at the ground, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks. “I- that was uncalled for.”

“Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.” You skip over to the other siblings and introduce yourself, throwing them off; on one hand, you can be deadly and fight and on the other, you can be as sweet as can be.

It intrigued Edmund a little too much for his comfort.

#the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia imagines #the chronicles of narnia imagine #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia x you #the chronicles of narnia x reader #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie imagines #edmund pevensie imagine #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie fanfiction #edmund pevensie x fem!reader #crazyk-imagine #edmund pevensie x you #edmund pevensie x reader

234 notes · View notes

wrenwreads · 2 years

Text

she’s enough.

having her around? edmund knows for sure he’ll be alright.

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: nothing

genre: fluff, edmund pining over his bsf

word count: 591

a/n: got me giggling while i was writing lmao 😭

“It’s not fair.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as her best friend plopped himself flat on her bed.

Her parents had let her stay with the Pevensie’s at a professor’s house for shelter — who would have thought they would end up being leaders of a kingdom.

She had been crowned Queen Y/N the Eloquent. Her ever so good skills in speaking benefited their home like no other. They had fixed so many conflicts without drawing out blood with her help, the siblings wondered what they would have done if Edmund didn’t accidentally smack her in the head back when they were 4.

“What is it this time Eds?” she sighed, leaving the stack of books she was carrying from her own personal library to sit down next to Edmund’s body.

“It’s just Peter— and Susan— not to mention Lucy. Why is it always me! Why not y— them this time?! As if I can’t do anything like that. It's just I need time—“

“Eds! Edmund! Breath, please” she pleaded, concerned at the speed the words were coming out of his mouth. Edmund only remained quiet, his face flat on her bed. She sighed, standing up from her position, she — lightly — hit Edmund on the shoulder.

“Sit up!” she hissed.

Another hit.

“Sit up, you twat!”

The insult had the boy standing up in an instant, shooting daggers at the smile Y/N was playfully displaying. “Who’re you calling a twat?”. Edmund sounded offended, Y/N knew him too well that the question had an action behind it for her to fall for. “No one. Well… someone with the last name Pevensie…”

“Peter, then?”

“No,” she dismissed, shaking her head jokingly. “More like Edmund—“ she shrieked his name in surprise. He had been quick, reaching towards her in seconds — his long arms wrapped around her waist as his fingers dug to her sides.

“Edmund! Stop—“ she could barely get the words out, her laughs drowning the whole room. Edmund laughed at the attempt, tightening his hold. “I suggest you take back your words, my lady. Or you’ll be trapped forever!” Edmund announced between his own chuckles.

“Never!”

Their laughs only got louder. The sound escaping the room. Two fauns just happened to pass Y/N’s closed bedroom door, the two looking at each other knowingly. “I am really having a hard time believing that those two will always be best friends.” One said to the other.

“Hopefully, one of them will gain some courage. Who knows, maybe we’ll get Narnia’s first prince in three years' time.” The other replied.

The two laughed, knowing the prediction is highly unlikely — but not impossible.

Back inside, Edmund had stopped. His arms still around her waist as the two took a moment to catch their breaths. Y/N had rested her head against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat instantly calming her down.

Edmund watched in adoration at Y/N allowing herself to rest against him. Despite knowing each other for more than a decade — maybe even more — he still doesn’t believe someone as delicate as the girl in front of him trusts him enough to do so.

Maybe in the future he’ll finally tell her what he found so unfair. Why his siblings would continuously pester him about his buried feelings when they too had them one way or another.

For now, having Y/N allow him to wrap his arms around her, it’s enough. Knowing she confides in him as he does to her, it’s enough.

Having her around, she’s enough.

thank you sm for reaching the end. i appreciate it a lot. feel free to tell me what you <3 constructive criticism is highly valued. also accepting prompts or requests atm. love u lots xoxo

1K notes · View notes

writerdreamxs · 5 days

Text

WELCOME TO MY BLOG ! fearless era.

in which you know a little about me and make requests for short stories to me and I turn your dreams into realities. after all, I am a writer of dreams. 💐

first, introductions: my name is clarice, but you can call me clary.

I'm brazilian, so obviously english is not my first language, so there may be some errors in the imagines.

I love taylor swift (my favorite album is fearless, but I think you get the idea :) and one direction, as well as lana del rey, artic monkeys, among many other artists.

I love romcoms, whether films or books, clichés, sun, spring, roses, dogs and I am a person who really likes to talk.

my mbti is enfp, - at least that's what i think, at the moment! - and I have a sanguine temperament.

and I DON'T write smut.

below I will put a list of the characters and fandoms that I mainly write about, but if you want to request something different, feel free.

masterlist. 🌤️

BRIDGERTON 🐝

colin bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, anthony bridgerton, gregory bridgerton, simon basset.

FORMULA ONE. 🏁

all of the grid, but mainly, lando norris, oscar piastri, george russell and max verstappen.

FOOTBALL PLAYERS ⚽

richarlison, rodrygo goes, jude bellingham, vini jr, pedri, gavi, and all of the real madrid team.

HARRY POTTER (golden era)🪄

harry potter, draco malfoy, blaise zabini, fred and george weasley, ron weasley, oliver wood, charlie weasley.

HARRY POTTER (marauders era) 🕰️

remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, peter pettigrew, regulus black, severus snape.

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA 🦁

peter pevensie, edmund pevensie, caspian.

CELEBRITIES 🍾

timothée chalamet, josh hutcherson, louis partridge, andrew garfield, william moseley, tom holland, ben barnes, archie renaux, cameron boyce ✝.

RANDOM 🩷

trodrick heffley, peter parker 1 and 3, matteo balsano, simon alavrez, ramiro ponce, gaston perida, gabo moretti, lorenzo guevara, dede duarte, willy wonka, chad denforth (hsm), will turner (potc) legolas greenleaf (lor), laurie laurence, supa strikas, luke ross (jessie), carmen sandiego characters, zach mitchell (jw), jurassic world: camp cretaceous caracthers, carlos de vil, jay ja'far, harry hook, ray beech, charlie delgado, aurek, jim hawkins, jack frost, ever after high characters, scooby doo characters, hiccup, the greatest showman, dick grayson and wally west (young justice) .

🦋 well, that's it my sweeties and I hope you liked me and send your requests. 💗

WRITERDREAMXS ©, 2024. 📖

28 notes · View notes

needsmth · 1 year

Note

Hey! I’m KINDA new here so Idk how it works? But Anyway could i request a Edmund x g/n reader. Where there’s a storm and Edmund is looking for reader beacuse he’s worried, and finally he finds them in the middle of courtyard just to see them having the best time of their life running dancing spinning and enjoying the weather? (i like to Imagine that at that moment he would think something like "I wanna be theirs” iykyk)

If it’s not a problem ofc! And thank you <333

Thank you so much omg!! I loved writing this one and I look forward to getting to know you more :)

A disclaimer to all the others reading though, the reader will identify as she/her as I'm not very good at writing with non-binary pronouns. I deeply apologise.

Also, I highly recommend that you read this with the song 'Lovers Rock' by TV Girl. It just fits the mood and I swear you won't regret it <3

!! WARNINGS !!

- slight cussing (literally just one swear word)

- tooth-rotting fluff :p

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Edmund is not worried, alright? In fact, he's been feeling himself as of late. But that's the problem. He's only been feeling himself when she's around.

And yes, there's very heavy rain today so there's plenty of reason to worry. Especially since Lucy last recalled seeing his best friend in the courtyard, which, he'd gladly remind to anyone, is open-air.

And no, he's definitely not speeding down the long, pristine hallways of Cair Paravel towards the courtyard. He simply isn't. He's just... Walking at a faster pace.

Edmund pays no mind as he passes the meeting room, the throne room, his own bedroom. That's not important right now.

When he reaches the steps that lead to the courtyard, he takes note of the very heavy rain. (Susan, being the most helpful person in the world says there is probably a high chance of lightning striking.)

Edmund eyes at his navy blue silk and cream-coloured linen outfit and then back to the rain. 'Fuck it,' he thinks, stepping out into the unmerciful rain that instantly ruins his hair and clothes.

Never mind that, he needs to find her.

His dress-boots stomp against the slosh that was grass and tried avoiding puddles as best as he could. Lord knows what Peter would say to him later.

The young king shakes his mind off his older brother. Not the time, he reminds himself.

Now that he's finally here in the courtyard himself, he realises how much he's never spent his time here. (A bad situation to be finally realising this, but oh well) He made up his mind on how he's going exploring again when he's not in such a state and when the fields are dry and the sun is peeking from the sky.

He continues wandering for a good three minutes before noticing the spin of a light-pink dress in the distance.

His dark eyes widen, little specks of hope visible in the irises. He rushed to where he saw it, and there you were.

But instead of the cold, wet, miserable you that he'd previously imagined, it was actually quite the opposite.

You twirled yourself around, his presence to you unknown. Your eyes were closed, but your smile shone just as bright. Occasionally, Edmund would hear a little laugh from you, an indication of the fun you were having.

His eyes widen again, but instead of surprise, it's filled with cheeky, malicious intent.

Tip-toeing quietly so you don't hear him, (although the rain made it hard to hear anything, really) his strong arms wrap around your waist, enveloping you into a hug.

You open your eyes with adrenaline, before recognising his strong jaw and milky-white skin. You laugh in relief, pulling him impossibly closer to you. When you open your eyes again, he has a handsome grin playing at his lips before he leads you to dance.

It's not like any other dance you've learned to teach yourself for all the balls and parties you and the Pevensies had been invited to.

It's a ridiculous dance, really, if you think hard about it.

The way Edmund just keeps shimmying you around him and twirling you in ways you never thought he could, it's childish of him. A side he rarely shows but will always be open to you.

Although, you did recognise some of the steps from the more elegant dances, like the waltz. When asked, he smiles wistfully and replies, "Once a king, always a king."

Most of the time your laughter filled the air, only the dark clouds and trees as your witness.

Suddenly, you stop your feet from moving. Edmund catches onto this and stops as well. His hands were still very much around your wrist and on your lower back, however.

You hear each other's panting and the both of you look up to see a wide smile on the other's face.

You take the moment of silence as an excuse to drag your eyes around his lean figure, studying the way his wet hair shone (Very attractively, though you wouldn't admit it to him. Ever.)

God, she's beautiful, he thinks, oblivious to your shifty eyes and red face. Just how much I want her by my side... He continues in his head, How much I want her to be mine.

Of course, he hadn't said this out loud. That's just plain stupid.

But one day, he'll say it. He will. It's a promise.

And with the beam of your face that you make every time you see him... Oh yes, it's a promise.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Hope you enjoyed!! Special thanks to @lidlowa for requesting this in the first place. Your prompt had me kicking my feet in the air and shi.

#edmund pevensie #king edmund the just #chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie x fem!reader #fluff #fanfic #request

184 notes · View notes

lexxie · 1 year

Text

Being the youngest Pevensie sibling in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (gn!reader)

A/N: This will be set in the first movie, maybe I will do more parts for the next ones other time. Reader is going to be 1-2 years younger than Lucy (so 7 or 6 years old). This gif is not mine and english is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

Helen (Mrs. Pevensie) said goodbye to you in the train station after all your siblings, she kissed your forhead and said "Be good Y/N, listen to your brothers and sisters"

Everyone squeezed each other as they looked out of the train's window, saying goodbye to your mother one last time

When the train arrived at the destination, every kid was picked up, and you and your siblings were the last ones

You got tired after waiting a long time, so Peter carried you

No matter your gender, I think you would share rooms (with Edmund or Susan and Lucy) at Professor Kirke's house, but if that isn't possible you would have a room for yourself near your siblings

Or one of the eldest would sleep in the couch (probably Peter)

Discovering the wardrobe with Lucy:

The youngest often follows their older siblings

Since Peter was counting when playing hide and seek, Susan hid in a trunk and Edmund didn't want anyone with him, you followed Lucy

When both of you went in the room and found this thing covered in cloth, you were immedeatly curious

Lucy took the cloth off revealing a wardrobe, and gave you a look before entering, Peter was almost done counting

You entered the wardrobe and almost closed the door, you and Lucy looked through the small opening and then it closed completely

When some strange things touched your hands, you were confused

Until turning around and finding an amazing place covered in snow

Lucy grabbed your hand

"Stay close to me"

You walked to the light post and screamed when a strange creature appeared

Few seconds went by when your sister started walking and grabbed one of the packages the creature dropped and gave it to it, you did the same thing

After some talking, it was discovered that the creature was a faun, who thought the little humans were dwarfs

"I'm not a dwarf! I'm a girl! And actually, I'm the tallest in my class" -Lucy

Then he asked if you were children of Adam and Eve

"Well, our mum's name is Helen"

He said you were human, and seemed afraid while saying that

Lucy explained how you got there

Some time after, you found out the faun is called Mr.Tumnus

You spent time in his home, but he rushed Lucy and you back to the light post

You were both back in the room with the wardrobe, and it seemed you appeared in the exact moment you left

Edmund was still in his hiding spot and Peter approached the three

When you and Lucy tried to explain everything, they didn't believe you

Discovering the wardrobe with the rest of the siblings:

When Peter started counting, you looked around the room some seconds before running to a door

You ended up hiding under a couch in a hallway

When Lucy came back and tried to tell everyone about Narnia, nobody believed her except you

But after seeing the woods, they apologized to you two

Now your relationship with each Pevensie sibling

Peter Pevensie

He would be the most protective, since you are the youngest

I'm not sure if he knows how to play chess, but if he does, he would teach you

He would also read you stories before bed

Susan Pevensie

Would teach you lots of things

Makes you read books that can teach you something useful (in her words)

I feel both of you plus Lucy would learn to bake together before the war happened

Edmund Pevensie

Would bother you and make jokes, but not in a really harmful way (he wouldn't literally bully you)

I think he would also be protective

And be like: You can't make fun of my little siblings, only I can!

Lucy Pevensie

Since she is the closest in age to you, you would have the best relationship from all the siblings

But that doesn't mean you aren't close with the others

Lucy is your playmate

Play time is always fun, because the imagination both of you have is big

The last scenes (this one will be short because I don't have much ideas, and I don't know what your gift from the santa would be)

You were at the stone table, the place where Aslan died, with your older sisters

When Lucy helped Edmund with her gift you were so relieved

Everyone hugged, and they were all very happy

Then the coronation came

You were nervous but excited

By how I imagine the youngest Pevensie is (creative, with a big imagination, kind, extrovert and how she acted before and in Narnia), I think you would be named something like King/Queen/Monarch Y/N the Believer or Dreamer

Aslan was gone, that made you a little sad

Many years went by and life was great

Everyone grew up

One day, you and your siblings were hunting a stag when you found the wardrobe

The five of you entered it

And suddenly you were in Professor Kirke's house again, as children

158 notes · View notes

websterss · 9 months

Text

𝐄𝐃𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐄

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣ Warm | Part 2 @pariahsparadise

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒:

‣

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐄

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒: ‣

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒:

‣

‣ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎: 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie imagines #edmund pevensie imagine #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie x fem!reader #peter pevensie #peter pevensie imagines #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie x fem!reader #peter pevensie imagine

26 notes · View notes

mags0142 · 2 months

Text

Nobody's Son, Nobody's Daughter

Part IV

hello my loves, here's another part of my Edmund Pevensie x fem reader fic! We're finally getting some spice in this part!

hope you enjoy! :)

the other parts can also be found under this tag and on my acc!

word count almost 4k

The moonlight coming from the window at the end of the corridor illuminated his face just enough that Y/N saw what she believed to be tears glistening on his cheeks. Althea was sitting outside the King's chamber silently crying. Y/N tried to piece together the cause for such a scene. She figured the moans coming from the King's chamber had something to do with them. She could hear a few occasional grunts coming from a deep voice and many higher pitched moans. The King was enjoying some time with one of his mistresses apparently while Althea was outside crying.

Y/N had seen enough and quietly turned around and left the wing still in search of her own chamber.

______

Althea had listened all night. He recognized Edmund's noises, clearly he wasn't very passionate about this. He sounded rather .. upset. It didn't happen often that Edmund called one of the eager ladies up to his room but each time he did Althea felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He felt bad for a number of reasons. First of all he felt that Edmund was doing this just to blow off some steam. From the sounds they were making it was clear that Edmund was being quite rough. Althea knew he only acted like this on days when he was angry. Who could blame him? He did just lose his entire family and the threat of his own death was still dangling over his head.

Secondly though, Althea felt pained no matter what kind of sex Edmund was having. On the rare occasion that Edmund was actually enjoying himself he sounded much different than this time. He sounded soft, breathy moans leaving his flushed lips and strong hands gripping the sheets. Althea knew he would make him feel like this every time, better even, if only he had the chance to. He knew he would love his king so good if only one would let him. He was right for Edmund, he was good for him, he would be good to him.

But instead Edmund was in there, separated from Althea, with an unknown woman, pounding her small body into his mattress until she would either scramble away from overstimulation or he would finally release himself.

Althea knew this wasn't what Edmund truly desired. While he made the women squirm and yell out his name he would always retreat to his bath chamber once they were finished and take himself in hand to reach the end.

On those nights Althea wouldn't touch himself. Despite the temptation of pleasure alongside his beloved, Althea's broken heart spoiled it for him. The pain of being reminded that Althea wasn't what Edmund wanted spoiled it. Instead he spent those nights wishing he had breasts, a smaller waist and an entrance in between his legs instead of a penis. Maybe then Edmund would finally see him for what he wanted to be, his lover. He was so caught up in his own misery that he missed the woman's resemblance to Y/N and perhaps so had Edmund himself.

—-

The next morning Y/N was awoken by a maid. She was a sweet young girl, full of energy and all smiles. Y/N figured she had been sent here by her parents who probably live in the countryside. The girl looked strong like she had helped out on a farm or doing labour in the woods. Most notably though she had the accent that the people from the countryside had. "Good Morning Ma'am" she opened the curtains to let in the sunlight. "I hope you had a good night here at our lovely castle" Y/N nodded politely "I did, thank you". "I'll bring in something for you to eat shortly and a new gown." "Oh no don't trouble yourself I'm perfectly fine wearing the gown from yesterday. I'm not a noble, I don't require a change of clothes so frequently." "But Ma'am the King ordered us to treat you like we would any fine guest, a fresh set of clothing is part of that." Y/N nodded once again "I understand, I won't get in the way of your customs then." The girl disappeared in the hallway but left the door slightly ajar. Y/N caught a glimpse of Althea passing by her door. He looked inside of it and accidentally locked eyes with Y/N for a moment. Not very long, a second at best, but long enough for her to notice how puffy his eyes were.

She was beginning to piece together the relationship between Althea and the Just King although she was unsure how involved the King was in it. She gave up the thought when the nice servant came back with her gowns. They were a bit more luxurious than yesterday's gown but still functional. Perhaps they were trying to make a good impression on her so that she would speak in favour of them.

"Ma'am" Y/N asked. "Oh My lady no I'm no Ma'am I'm simply Ruth, please." "Alright Ruth, do you happen to know anything about the King's advisor?" "Sir Althea? Well not too much, J haven't been here very long. But from what I could gather he acts like the King's puppy. Always following him around and I know we're all drooling over the King but so is he if you ask me. Even before ... the incident. I believe he's competent, doing a good job you know. Sometimes I wonder if they were childhood friends or something-" Ruth froze when she heard footsteps coming down the hall. "That's the headmistress, I already said too much I'm sorry I was being improper." "No need to worry, thank you so much" Y/N quickly whispered before the older servant came in to check on them.

Y/N was ordered into the library once again. This time only by Althea. She was lead past the grand room filled with books and brought to a second hall filled with bookshelves but notably also with many desks in the middle of the room. "Please, if you could compose a letter to your people, proposing a collaboration in this investigation. I will come check on you later." Y/N nodded, she noted that Althea had no right to phrase this request like an order but she would look past that seeing as they were in a difficult situation. She sat down and quickly began writing. Composing such requests was something she had practised very often, before noon she was done with the letter. She got up and tried to find a staff member to show the letter to Althea. She quietly stepped out of the hall and back into the main library. She noticed some books and scrolls of paper splayed out on a table not far from her. The King was sitting at the table, alone this time without his advisor in sight. He must've felt that he was alone too because he looked quite dishevelled. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows and some buttons at the top were undone. He rested his forehead on the palms of his hands and ran his fingers through his dark hair.

Y/N had to admit she was a bit unsure what to do. She was well trained in diplomacy and international relationships. But she had little training on how to console a grieving man. She wasn't sure if she should act professionally or kindly.

It may have been unwise but in a moment of pity she decided to display kindness.

"Your Majesty, are you quite alright?" She asked softly, respectfully keeping her distance. The King jolted up and stared at her for a moment. "Oh of course, I'm sorry miss Y/N I hadn't noticed you come in." "I was just in here composing a letter to arrange a meeting with my people for you." She explained as she slowly came closer. "Alright yes thank you very much Y/N.." The King mumbled as he looked back down at the table. "If I may ask, what are you researching, your Highness? Perhaps I could be of assistance." She offered kindly and stopped when she had reached the edge of the table. "Actually I am trying to plan our meeting. I have to admit, my older Sister Susan was responsible for foreign affairs, I'm afraid I might not be aware of all there is to know. Except for the basics that is." He explained quietly, obviously ashamed.

"Oh do not worry Your Majesty, I know how to handle my people. I can lead the discussion if you wish."

"No no I uh I believe it is important for me to take the lead on this. I trust in your abilities Y/N but as I am sure you understand as sole ruler of Narnia I need to make my dominance clear." The King tried to sound very polite contrary to what he just said.

"I understand Your Highness but if I am allowed to make a suggestion perhaps dominance isn't exactly what you need but rather collaboration. Especially for the Yuvak people, we are not impressed by displays of power, we seek responsible, understanding and well-educated partners to work in a team." Y/N explained looking at him seriously. He nodded "I understand, thank you Y/N, your advice is greatly appreciated." He smiled up at her, probably his attempt to seem kind rather than strong.

His smile was nice, handsome even, but not very honest. If anything he seemed tired, tired of grieving, tired of ruling alone, tired of being so very unsure of what to do. Y/N felt sorry for him and worried. She knew that grief could very quickly develop into something more permanent, something that would take over the mind and slowly take over the entire body until there was nothing left of a person but their shell. People who were eaten up by grief usually, almost always ended up ending their own lives. It was absolutely crucial that King Edmund would avoid this fate. Not just for himself and his own well-being but also for the political climate. If the Just King were to die, Narnia would once again be left without a legitimate ruler. The consequences of this would be grave, their entire population would be in great danger.

Y/N gave him a kind smile "Of course your Majesty, I'll do whatever I can to support you" She bowed to him as a sign of respect.

The King gulped quietly as he looked at her bow down. He had not realised it until then but he was very grateful for Y/N. She was clearly a very skilled fighter and well-educated diplomat. They had not officially spoken about her occupation but he felt that she was clearly a diplomat, an ambassador maybe even. It was the only way to explain her fighting skills, her knowledge about foreign affairs and her good ties to her own government. She seemed so at ease and always in control. The King felt ashamed that a diplomat was handling everything better than he, a monarch, was.

Something else that he noticed which he did not quite admit to himself was that Y/N was also remarkably beautiful. She looked kind yet fierce. The way her eyes looked at him made him burn with a sensation new to him and it was as if her voice was hypnotising him. No matter what she said he was listening intently. Looking at her lips move when she spoke caused ideas to pop up in his head which he forced away the moment they appeared.

He told himself he was just tired, that he was pent up from all the stress and that a couple of nights with his mistresses would fix these impure thoughts.

After all he was a King, he could not go around starting affairs with commoners, no matter how intriguing they were, no matter how remarkable they were.

"If you'll allow, I shall take a look at what you have prepared so far for the meeting." Y/N looked down at the table, her voice filled with motivation.

Edmund gave a small smile and nodded "Please, feel free."

And so they looked over his material together, her filling in where she could with what she knew. They were working well as a team, Althea noted as he stood in the doorway of the grand library. He had come to collect the letter and check up on Edmund. Slowly he began feeling that he shouldn't have trusted her that day at the crime scene. He remembered telling Edmund how she was probably on their side, now he wasn't so sure anymore. Sure she wasn't attacking Edmund actively but he felt as if she was getting too close to the King. Only a traitor would seek such closeness, she was probably the one who killed the other Pevensies.

Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions, but either way she was bad news to him. Althea knew Edmund like the back of his hand, and had accompanied him through most of his reign. He was supposed to be the one helping Edmund the most, not this stranger. He bit his lip, his heart full of envy and took loud quick steps towards them.

The two unintentionally took a few steps apart from eachother as if caught doing something they shouldn't. "Miss Y/N, I take it you finished what I asked you to do ?" "I did, here, please review it and tell me if it is to your liking." She looked at him with very kind eyes, maybe even pitiful... "May I ask what else you are doing here then? Disturbing the King while he is preparing!" Althea felt himself getting angrier again, losing control of his emotions. "Althea." Edmund said, sternly yet softly. Althea turned to look at him, hearing his voice always grounded him. Hearing Edmund call his name was like a remedy to his illness. No one pronounced his name quite as beautifully and lovingly as Edmund did.

The King gave him a soft, reassuring smile and Althea felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "She's helping us Althea, who better to prepare a meeting with the Yuvak people than a Yuvakian herself ?." Althea nodded, us, Edmund was right, us, perhaps Y/N could be of use to them, us. With that he turned around and exited the library again so as to not feel any more of these unpleasant feelings.

Y/N tried to ignore the obvious hostility from Altheah but she didn't have to. "Please excuse him, you must know .. Althea is truly my dearest friend, if I may get so personal. And I'm afraid he's looking out for me. As a friend but also as the King's advisor he wants to look out for my safety."

"I understand your Highness. Although I do not have any intentions of hurting you. It goes against the oath I swore in Yuvak, everyone who is working in the name of our country cannot initiate an attack."

"Well, Miss Y/N, that might be true but keep in mind that we did meet after you single handedly killed 15 grown men." The King chuckled a bit as he picked up where they left off their work. Y/N appreciated his attempts to comfort her but she couldn't let go of the feeling that Althea was bothered by something else.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly, the two of them gathering evidence, preparing questions and possible plans for how they should proceed in this case. Her letter had been impeccable, the perfect balance between demanding and polite, short yet conclusive and composed with a wonderfully rich vocabulary.

The sun was setting when a servant called on the King to tell him his dinner was ready. "Oh already? I must admit I had not realised how long we've been working I ... Y/N how about you join me for dinner tonight? As a thank you for your support." The King offered and Y/N couldn't help but smile "You are too kind your Highness, I would love to join you tonight." She replied bowing to him in gratitude. "Very well, I shall meet you at the table then."

With that both the King and Y/N were taken away by servants to get ready.

"Oh my, an official dinner with the King! How exciting!" Ruth giggled as she tightened the corset on Y/N. "Oh no my dear, it is just a way to say thank you. This can hardly be considered official."

"Well that's even better, no?" Ruth smirked "if it's unofficial, that means less restrictions." She winked at her but before Y/N could reply she pulled the laces so tightly it took her breath away.

—-

The King had to admit it felt good to have someone else sitting at the table with him again. He had been feeling so lonely each meal without his beloved siblings. Y/N was of course no replacement for them, but it was still nice. That's what made him so emotional, he told himself, that's what was making his heart beat and his hands a bit clammy. Not at all the sight of Y/N gently biting down on the meat and her tongue darting out to lick off a drop of sauce from her lips. Not at all the thought of those lips on his body, his dick. Licking it, the way she licked the spoon. The King had to admit his trousers were starting to feel a bit tight about halfway through dinner. They weren't talking much, mainly because all conversations had to be initiated by the monarch and he was busy trying to contain his semi boner.

As it was customary, the guest got up first and after bowing to him, and showing off a magnificent pair of breasts, Y/N was led back to her chamber.

Edmund also quickly made his way back to his quarters. He had barely entered the room when he palmed his dick through his pants in a desperate attempt to feel relief. He was quite unsure what to do now, he felt strange that Y/N had this effect on him. He blamed it on his grief, making his emotions all over the place. Never before had someone had such an effect on him, not without trying at least. This was obviously a sign that he was unstable.

Nonetheless he quickly prepared a bath and slipped into it. He sighed as the warm water covered his pale skin and he felt his muscles relax. Now, finally, his hand slowly went down his chest and then his stomach until finally reaching his length. Edmund couldn't possibly hold back the moan which left his lips the second he felt that firm grip on his aching cock. He began pumping slowly, trying to make the pleasure last. He closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards onto the rim of the bathtub.

Sometimes when masturbating he asked himself if Althea could hear him, not this time though.

This time his thoughts were utterly occupied by a certain someone, her lips, her eyes, her voice, her intellect, her talent, her absolute smoke show of a body. Before he knew it he was desperately pumping his cock barely holding back a moan of her name until he soon reached one of the most intense orgasms he ever had.

After calming down he concluded that this was pent up energy, he wasn't actually attracted to Y/N he just needed an outlet.

He looked at the reflection of the room in the big window facing the ocean. He would have almost caught Althea standing in the slightly cracked doorway, dick in hand, panting, if Edmund hadn't been too occupied with justifying his most recent sexual fantasy to himself.

#edmund pevensie #fanfic #oc #edmund x reader #the chronicles of narnia #lgbtqia #narnia fanfiction #slow burn #fandom #smut #fem reader

4 notes · View notes

lady-ashfade · 2 years

Text

Narnia Masterlist

Request for this fandom: Closed

Rules.

Prompts.

Angst: Red

Fluff: Pink

Both: Orange

Comfort: purple

A little bit of everything or nothing: green

But female and gender neutral readers only.

Peter Pevensie

Prince Caspian

Edmund Pevensie

#peter pevensie x fem!reader #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie #narnia #narnia x reader #edmund pevensie #Edmund pevensie x reader #prince caspian #caspian x reader #prince caspian x reader #edmund pevensie x y/n

34 notes · View notes

maximoff-pan · 5 months

Text

the ultimate deception | benedict bridgerton (part one)

summary: you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. What happens when Lady Whistledown comes to know of your identity? How will your relationship with Benedict evolve?

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!(artist)reader

word count: 4k

warning(s): poor writing and dialogue (sue me, I'm rusty lol), very unedited so if there are mistakes, I apologize, misogyny, penelope aka Lady Whistledown's biggest defender

a/n: this is definitely going to be more than one part, but I wanted to post something after so many months. Let me know how you like it (or don't like it haha)...comments and feedback are much appreciated <3

• • • • • •

“I wish I possessed merely an ounce of your talent.”

Benedict’s gaze seems to be wholly absorbing your latest painting, a depiction of the botanical wonders of London’s Royal Kew Gardens.

You puff out a breath, blowing on the feathery end of one of your writing quills. In your haste, it had gotten loose, tickling your face irritatingly. Tucking it back behind your ear, you wave him off. “You have much more talent than you give yourself credit for.” You admit through squinted eyes, scanning your work. “You simply lack conviction. And you worry far too much about what others think of you.”

Benedict smiles, receiving your words as the highest of praise. He reaches out to take a better look at the piece of art before him. “You flatter me.” He mumbles in awe. “But I suppose there’s a chance you could be right.”

Chuckling at his words, you grin knowingly. You’re right. It’s more than a chance…you just are. He knows it too.

You both continue to steadily eye the painting, you out of critical evaluation of your work, and him in sheer admiration of it.

Benedict’s favourite part remains the beautifully bloomed magnolias that are scattered across the canvas. He’d been sure to tell you numerous times of their elegance while you’d been working on it, eagerly awaiting the finished product. As you’ve come to realize, Benedict loves watching you work. It’s one of the prices you’ve had to pay for his allowance of your workstation being at Bridgerton House, if you could even call it that.

You are grateful, truly. You wouldn’t be able to make your own living without his kindness. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to keep to yourself in the way you prefer to.

“When will Augustus Leighton be displaying his latest work of perfection?” Benedict’s question reminds you of your fate as an artist.

Augustus Leighton is the pseudonym you paint under. Using his name, you have become a well known artist among the ton, even going so far as to have a painting hung at Buckingham Palace. It’s difficult, you must admit, pretending to be someone else. But it’s a necessary evil.

Painting as a woman would get you nowhere. Especially as a woman with no money (particularly at the time you began), no status, and no husband.

Your mother is a seamstress with little to her name and your father was a servant to Violet and Edmund Bridgerton, before his heart became too weak. He passed away when you were thirteen, only a few years after the Bridgerton children had lost their own father. You’d grown up with little money, but Violet had been kind to both you and your mother, seeing how close you’d become with her children.

You were raised alongside them, Benedict and Eloise becoming your closest of friends. At three and twenty, there are five years between you and the two siblings in either direction, with Eloise being freshly eighteen, and Benedict having turned twenty eight. To this day, they remain two of only three people who know of your true identity, outside of Penelope Featherington.

You hadn’t exactly meant for Eloise or Penelope to find out about it, but once they had, it became comforting to have more than just Benedict to speak to about your predicament. Especially considering, although Benedict has been wonderfully supportive, he could never understand the struggle a woman must endure in a male dominated world.

“Likely never. This one is a gift for Lady Danbury.” You answer Benedict’s inquiry after a bout of silence. “She’s spoken about her love of these gardens quite regularly, so I thought, why not have Mr. Leighton recreate it for her?”

“How will you get it to her?” He questions.

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I have my ways, lest you worry about it.”

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The next few days are interesting to say the least. You’d somehow managed to get the painting delivered to Lady Danbury, and as far as Violet had been willing to speak of her latest visit with the formidable aforementioned woman, you have been made aware that she adores it.

You’d also heard more about it from Benedict, who’d mentioned something about her being at a loss for words, an ultimate shock to both him and his mother. They’d never seen her look so bewildered.

According to Eloise, Lady Danbury had been surprised to receive such a gift, especially of something so near and dear to her heart. She’d said it reminded her of her time with the Queen, telling the young Bridgerton woman about the months just after her husband had passed, when a new independent lifestyle began to bloom for her.

The painting itself reminded her that women like her could be free, and one day, they would be. That sort of metaphorical mindset had definitely appealed to Eloise’s sense of social justice. She’d been more than excited to tell you about the older woman’s reaction to your art, claiming it to be a wonderful revelation.

Today though, as you sit in the Bridgerton’s common living room, the opposite representation of said female autonomy rests in your hands. The paper feels rough against your skin as you pass it to Eloise who’s propped excitedly to the left of you. You’ve never been a fan of Lady Whistledown’s gossip column, although you can admire her unabashed confidence. But despite her strong will as an author, which could be seen as an inherently empowering trait, you are of the impression that she goes about it in an entirely backward way.

Women don’t need to put each other down to build themselves up. It accomplishes nothing, consequently acting as a source of nourishment for the patriarchy you find yourself trapped in.

“You’re not going to read it?” Eloise asks as she takes the pamphlet from you.

“I never do.” Is your instant reply.

Penelope perks up at the mention of the column, eyes trained curiously on you. If you had known better, you’d say she was a little too interested.

But at this moment you shrug it off, listening with no suspicion as she asks a simple, “Why?”

You don’t have the hindsight to understand why your stomach turns at her question, but you respond anyway. “I tend to think of Lady Whistledown as a poison.” It’s the first time you’ve voiced such an opinion.

Penelope and Eloise turn to you in surprise. “Come again?” Penelope’s soft voice cuts through.

“She is a poison.” You repeat before explaining yourself. “Do not get me wrong, I hold admiration for her bravado, but her words, the things she writes, they cause nothing but pain and conflict for those she chooses to sink her teeth into.”

“But she’s an independent woman.” Eloise interjects. “One who is doing more than any of us could dream of. She is making a name for herself!”

You try to think about your next words carefully, but your mouth makes quick work of a reply. “A name which she hides behind, casting stones through the guise and safety of anonymity.”

Penelope lets out a scoff from beside you. She’s always been one to defend the infamous gossip columnist. “At least she does not hide herself behind the mask of a man.” That feels like a shot. “The people know full well of her gender, despite her true identity remaining a secret.”

You hear the implication on her tongue. The same cannot be said for you.

And she’s not wrong. You do hide yourself behind the mask of a man. You’d never once denied that.

You sigh. “I know you must think of me as a hypocrite.”

Eloise agrees hesitantly. “Only a little.” She admits. “It’s just that you do the same as Mr. Leighton.”

You soften at her honesty. Truthfully, you understand where she’s coming from, but you can’t help the urge you feel to defend yourself.

“I disguise myself as Augutus because I know that no artist or art critic alike will take me seriously as I am. I want to share my work with the world, that is simply all I want. It’s all I have ever wanted.”

“Does that not make you a coward?” Penelope inquires, although it feels less like a question and more like an opinion. This is what she believes. And she's entitled to that.

“Perhaps.” You nod in acknowledgment. “But it has also made me uniquely successful. And I take great pride knowing that my work is highly regarded, in spite of the fact that I have to be someone else to succeed.”

“Does that ever bother you?” Eloise persists. “Knowing that no one will know you for the work you have done?”

Before you can respond, Penelope chimes in with a query of her own. “Does it ever make you feel guilty, lying as you do?” This feels like a challenge.

You turn to Eloise, answering her first. “No, I feel quite unbothered. I like the privacy it provides me.” Your gaze flicks between the two girls, a fire in your eyes as you speak.

You answer Penelope’s question next. “Guilt is one of the last feelings to cross my mind.” You feel content with it. “Because of Augustus, I have my own money, my own independence. I do not need a man to survive or to be happy. I have choices. And that's a facet of my life I never dreamed could have existed. If there is anything more empowering for a woman than that, I cannot think of it.”

Eloise listens to your words carefully, absorbing them, reveling in them. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Independence is a sign of true equality. And you have that. Not because of the name you hide behind, but because you’d used the insecurities of men to your advantage. You’d played the game and won.

“I suppose I have been quite short sighted.” There’s much less arrogance in her tone. Eloise sounds humbled. “You’ve given me a new perspective to think about.”

Penelope does not enjoy the direction this conversation has headed. “Surely you cannot think yourself above someone such as Lady Whistledown.”

Your face scrunches in thought. “Above?” You stipulate. “I do not think myself above anyone, gender aside. But I do think I have a much higher sense of self respect than she does.”

“And how could that possibly be?” Penelope has to bite her tongue. She wants to say more, defend herself more. But she cannot.

Eloise cuts in. “Lady Whistledown has the utmost confidence in herself. I dare say more than all the women in London combined. As much as I have come to see your side, I cannot agree with that.”

“One’s high level of confidence is of little concern here.” You deliver. “Often, in matters regarding the human condition, such as these, it can act as a detriment.” Your eyes narrow as you speak. “Self respect and self confidence can coincide, but they are not the same.”

Eloise laughs out of confusion. She’s not used to being this clueless. “I don’t understand.” She says.

“Ah,” you decide to stop tiptoeing around the subject. “I merely think that no self-respecting woman would use the pain and suffering of other women, or any other person for that matter, for their own profit and entertainment.”

Eloise’s smile drops. “Oh.” Again, she hadn’t thought of it that way. But what resonates with her most is that you’re not wrong.

“Is that what you truly think of Lady Whistledown?” Penelope’s voice is calm and collected for the first time this afternoon. It almost scares you.

“Yes.” You say, before voicing, “However, I mean no offense to either of you. I know how much you girls adore her column. I just want more for you than what she does. A life of gossip is dangerous, and you deserve so much more.”

If you had known you’d been talking to Lady Whistledown herself, maybe you would have kept those opinions to yourself. But little did you know how much your life was about to change, how dangerously you’d walked the line, and how much vengeance rests in Penelope Featherington’s soul.

Future note to self, do not play with fire if one does not wish to get burnt.

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

“(Y/n), I think you need to see this.” Benedict holds up the newest edition of London’s famous gossip column.

Your heart sinks at the look in his eyes. I’m sorry they seem to say.

You haven’t even read it and you already know it’s bad. Handing it to you, Benedict looks hesitant, almost in preparation of what's to come. As you take it from him, you glance down at the ink on the paper, her handwriting etched in your brain.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to read:

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It has come to this author’s attention that a certain individual is playing an unforgivable game of deception within the world of classical art that this ton so highly regards. This artisan has gone to great lengths to keep their true identity from you, painting under a well recognized pseudonym.

By now you may have guessed, this artist is a woman. One who has tricked you and lied to you by passing her work off as that of a man’s. What a horrid crime it is to keep such a secret from you, and a desperate one, I must admit. A woman so foul as to seek such attention for her art, far too greedy to be content with the life so many of the wonderful women of the ton lead. Instead, she parades around disguising herself so she can live a life she feels entitled to.

This author asks you to consider the arrogance of it all. But the question remains, as I am sure you are desperate to uncover: who is the serpent who remains among us?

And so it is with great sorrow that I announce the once beloved Augustus Leighton is a fraud. A man never seen in the public setting, has given us a reason why. He is a woman.

And her name, ladies and gentleman of London, is (Y/n) (L/n).

As I am sure you, gentle reader, are shocked at this revelation, I will take a moment to address the woman this particular entry concerns.

May I remind you Miss (L/n), I have ears and eyes everywhere. Or did you forget? It would do you a world of good to remember that the next time you think about besmirching me. And, as I write this, I must say, this warning goes for all. Heed it, live by it, breathe by it. I am not a woman you want to cross.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

Panic crawls through your body. You want to cry, scream, maybe even simply die from the anxiety you’re feeling.

“What am I going to do?”

Your voice cracks, it sounds like glass breaking. Shattered, ragged, and tired, and Benedict can do nothing but hold you.

Again, as your body shakes and caves into the pressure you think, what am I going to do?

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The moment Eloise enters the room with Anthony at her side, your mind is sent ablaze. Only three people had known about Augustus. Only three people could have possibly let it slip, and you know for a fact it wasn’t Benedict.

As much as you want to believe Eloise would never do something like that to you, you can’t help but feel like she might have offhandedly mentioned it to someone. Her mouth had always worked much faster than her brain.

Benedict’s gaze meets yours in understanding. He hopes his sister hasn’t done this; he’ll be furious if she has.

You’re about to say something when a certain eldest Bridgerton catches you off guard. Anthony smiles when he sees you, eyes twinkling uncharacteristically so.

“I had no idea you could paint like that.” He says. “I must admit, I’m quite proud of you.”

You blink rapidly in confusion. Proud? In all the years you’ve known Anthony, he’s never told you he’s proud of you.

“So you’ve read the column then?” Your head hangs in shame. Everyone in London has probably read it by now.

“Everyone has.” Eloise pipes in timidly, confirming your suspicions.

She’s nervous, understandably so, fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. You assume when you finally catch her gaze that she’ll avert it quickly, but instead, she holds it well.

We need to talk.

Benedict, reading the room perfectly, coughs in apprehension. “Brother, how about we let these ladies be for a moment? I’m certain they have some things to discuss.”

“Of course.” Anthony nods with a smile, not before reminding you how proud he is of you.

If anything good can come of this, it might just be that.

Once alone, Eloise is eager to assure you of her innocence. “I spoke to no one.” She promises. “Blood be forgotten, you’re my sister (Y/n). I would never betray you like that.”

The look on her face is one of pure panic; she needs you to believe her. And despite everything, you do. It almost makes you feel guilty that you questioned her.

“It’s alright.” You assure her. “I know you wouldn’t.”

But that only leaves one person…

“I think Penelope is Lady Whistledown.” You're taken aback by Eloise’s words, like a stab to the chest. Twisting the knife in further, she corrects, “I know she is.”

Moments of silence pass before you can collect your thoughts. “How long have you known?”

This is where Eloise loses her composure. Pure shame is etched upon her features. “I caught her a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks. A few weeks… A FEW WEEKS?

“Oh.” Your murmur is dejected and weak.

Eloise had known you’d been slandering Lady Whistledown in front of Lady Whistledown, and she’d done nothing to stop you, except defend her best friend’s honour. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to agree with you.

“I wanted to say something.” Eloise stammers. “But I couldn’t. Penelope doesn’t know that I know.”

You inhale a staggered breath of air, face falling to your palms. “I’ve been such a fool. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You have not.” The girl beside you opposes before continuing, “Trust me, I am furious with Penelope. The things she’s done and said about me, about the people I care about, I’m not sure I can forgive her for it.”

You scoff lightly. Trust her? How are you supposed to do that?

Sure, Eloise has certainly been burned by Lady Whistledown before, but she’s always had her name to fall back on. “You have no idea what it’s like, Eloise.”

“I’m sorry.” She slumps in apology, shrinking in on herself. Eloise likes to think she can understand where you’re coming from. She’s a woman, same as you, one who has the same struggles against the patriarchy, and yet, hers are much different.

“Don’t.” You dismiss her apology in frustration. It feels harsh but necessary. “You always speak about feminism and the difficulties of being a woman. How it is impossible for you to hold title and rank, or to be recognized for your accomplishments. But you are a Bridgerton Eloise, and that comes with more privilege, more title, more rank, and more acknowledgment in society than you seem to understand.”

Eloise’s brow furrows. “More often than not, that name is a burden, something you could not possibly grasp.”

“And I should not have to.” Your lips pull into a thin line. This isn’t a competition, but you feel it necessary to defend your point wholly. “I am the daughter of a servant and a seamstress. I have no money, no control, and no future if I am not to marry. Since the day I was born, I belonged to someone else. You talk of struggle, but you have no idea what it truly means.”

Eloise doesn’t like what you’re implying. “You think I live a life of luxury? That I am a stranger to the adversities life has to offer? I can assure you, I know much more about the struggles of which you speak. My mother has prepared me for the purpose of my future; finding a husband is imperative.”

“You plan to remain unmarried, correct?” You ask her seriously.

“With every fiber in my being.” Is her scathing reply. And it only serves to prove your point. But you can see her side of things too.

“El, you defy your mother with your distaste for society. And while I applaud your determination to fight for equality, your fault remains in your failure to recognize the entitlement that has been bestowed upon you simply by having that choice. Unlike so many women, you can choose to live your life as a spinster. For you, those options exist. For me, I have not one choice besides finding a well suited, at best, middle class husband, because that is all I am suited for.”

In this moment, her heart shatters for you. Is that really what you think of yourself? “You cannot possibly mean that.”

“It’s how it has to be.” You affirm.

“It’s not.” She disagrees. “There’s so much more for you than a husband.”

Both your defenses are down, walls have collapsed, and you’re starting to get through to each other. She’s starting to grasp the gravity of what this means for you. Your career is more than likely over, as is the steady source of income you’d managed to build. Except where before you’d had less than no money to your name, you now had a healthy dowry (that you’d earned no less) to find a more comfortable suitor.

Eloise sees it now. What Penelope has done is monumentally life changing.

However, as emotional as this circumstance is, you still feel the need to reach out. She’s your sister after all.

“Eloise,” your eyes search hers. They tread in a sea of empathy. “I never meant to imply you have lived a life without misfortunes. I’m not trying to diminish your hurt. But I thought if you heard my side, you might come to understand mine.”

She softens at your admission, having gotten carried away in defending herself. Nodding, she smiles gently. “I do.” She says. “And while you may not bear the Bridgerton surname, you do have us. Every Bridgerton will stand behind you, always.”

Against every fibre in your being, you believe her. Somehow you’ll always have this little family of yours, somehow you hope you’ll be okay…

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x female reader

2K notes · View notes

d4yl1ghts · 1 month

Text

flashback

anthony bridgerton x pregnant, wife, fem!reader

summary: your son gets stung by a bee and anthony is reminded of his father

warnings: mentions of death, panic attack, pregnancy

It was the perfect afternoon; sunny and peaceful. You were sat outside with your husband, Anthony, watching over your son and daughter. Your daughter was making daisy chains and your son was wandering around your large gardens and messing around. Turning slightly, you stared at Anthony, he looked so pleased that you couldn’t help but let your lips curl upwards.

Anthony could feel your eyes on him and so he turned towards you and hungrily kissed your lips. As you pulled away, you said: “Tony, it is such a wonderful day.”

He tilted his head to look at your children who were laughing to themselves. He then glanced down at your growing stomach with a proud smirk in his face. You rolled your eyes at his antics. He looked at you with lust and you couldn’t help but feel slightly weak at the knees. You sighed contentedly as his lips moulded into yours perfectly.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth hastily and you moaned into his mouth.

You instantly pulled away as you heard your son crying. “Arthur!”, you yelled as you ran over to examine him. “What happened, sweetheart?”, you asked softly as you grazed over his little body. He pointed towards a bee and then to his arm. You moved to look at Anthony and you saw fear cross his features. “Let me see.”, he dragged Arthur towards him. “Ow!”, Arthur yelled as he was dragged. Anthony’s breathing was slightly uneven as he analysed the sting.

“Okay, it’s fine.”, he stated, mostly to himself. You knew of how Edmund had passed and you understood Anthony’s approach to the situation. “Arthur, let’s take you inside, shall we? You can have some chocolate.”, you said as you gently took your son’s hand. “Watch over Bianca whilst I’m inside, I’ll come back in a minute, my love.”, you eased your husband.

You left Arthur with one of your maids and quickly made your way outside again where you saw Anthony pacing and muttering to himself. You walked over rapidly and grabbed his wrist. “You’re okay, our son’s fine.”, you muttered to him as you raked your hands through his groomed hair. He melted into your touch as he grabbed your waist and held you tightly. Tears fell down his cheeks and you made sure to wipe them. “It’s okay, my love. Breathe with me, Tony.”, you guided him and he did as instructed.

He eventually calmed down in your arms and you called your daughter over. “Let’s head in.”, you smiled down at her. Anthony took your hand and Bianca’s and lead you both in where you checked on Arthur. He was fine but he gladly accepted the gifts you offered him. Anthony sat beside him and kissed his head fatherly.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #fem!reader

894 notes · View notes

pariahsparadise · 2 years

Text

respite

nav. | m.list

requested by @bories : hi!! i just read a few of your stories and i'm in love with your writing,, i come to you humbly asking for any story will byers or edmund pevensie related, preferably fluff? doesn't matter much what it's about, i'd just love to read more if you ever get feel like it ! :))

wc: 0.5k

pairings: edmund pevensie x gn!reader

warnings: unedited work, not proofread, swearing

a/n: i decided to go with edmund because he is and always will be my favourite book boyfriend lol. also, it's been a while since i've written, so this is probably trash. enjoy?

“Come back to bed, idiot.”

Edmund’s head snaps up from the papers clutched tightly in his hand at the voice, shoulders relaxing once he manages to place your familiar form. Your eyelids are practically glued together, making you squint at him, and you’re swaying slightly where you stand, drooping like a wilting flower. You’re very obviously tired, and Edmund’s heart pangs at the dark circles he spots under your eyes.

“In a minute,” Edmund tells you, not having the heart to deny you outright. “Why don’t you head back? I’ll just be a moment, I swear.” With his luck, you’ll probably be asleep in seconds, and he’ll be able to finish up his battle plans before dawn.

“Fucking liar,” you mumble, voice sleep-ridden, and Edmund huffs a laugh at the soft call-out. You drag your feet along the cold marble floor as you make your way to him, hopping slightly to sit yourself on the cleaner side of his desk.

“I’m not lying,” Ed lies, dropping the papers so he can take your hand. He smooths his thumb over the ridges of your knuckles, before lifting it to his lips so he can brush small kisses on the trail his thumb mapped out. You smile at the feeling before his words register, which causes the corners of your mouth to drop again.

“You’ve barely had any rest this week, Ed,” you admonish him gently, shifting off the table to straddle his lap. A pink flush creeps on his cheeks as you lift a hand to his jaw, smoothing your palm up the defined edge to tilt it up.

“Not to mention,” you whisper lowly, using the proximity to lay a series of gentle kisses on his skin, ranging from right below his ear, all the way to his collarbones, beyond grateful to his unbuttoned nightshirt for giving you the shameless access, “The bed’s cold without you.”

“You’re cruel,” Edmund breathes out, growing more flustered with each heated brush of your lips, “Evil, even.”

“Yeah?” you say, pulling away to meet his eyes, “And what would you call your little stunt with my hand just now?”

Edmund purses his lips, looking away from you, “Fair point. You win.”

“I always do,” you tell him, deadpan, as if Edmund isn’t the most infuriating person to argue with. It’s mostly because he’s usually right, but you try to avoid admitting that as much as possible. His crown wouldn’t fit his head if you helped make it any bigger.

Edmund just grins down at you, knowing you’re full of shit, before standing up with no warning. Your hands curl into his shirt tightly as your legs lock around his waist instinctively, though you know he would never drop you, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh as your boyfriend carries you through the halls towards your shared bedroom.

Work can wait till the morning, Edmund tells himself. All that matters right now is the sleepy individual in his arms, and his own heavy eyelids, begging for a respite.

748 notes · View notes

infiniteimaginings · 2 months

Note

Could you write some angsty Anthony bridgerton x wife reader. Maybe he took his anger out on her cus he was stressed or something.💋😭😫🩷

A Loving Marriage (Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Anthony had married you, he adored you during your courtship. He showed his affections through floral arrangements, joyous laughter, your dance card always had his name first. When he married you though, some things changed. He would be warm, but it slowly dimmed. He was always in his office, he never spoke to you, why does he do so? Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her Warnings: Angst Word Count: 4.0k A/N: I love angst, I love it! I looked at this request three times, midnight struck, and I turned into a writing goblin.

It had been a nice day, you had finally drawn your husband, Anthony Bridgerton, out of the house to have a delightful picnic with you. The two of you were discussing anything but pressing matters, laughing, eating the small sandwiches, drinking the sweet but tart lemonade. Occasionally your fingers would touch, a burst of energy escaping into your bodies until your fingers interlocked, accepting the warmth with open arms.

The sun was shining brightly, the clouds perfect white and fluffed into shapes the two of you pointed out and playfully teased each other for. The slight tilt of his head when you spoke of a cloud being shaped as one thing, his squinted eyes and scrunched nose were all that mattered to you. The way the sun kissed his skin and a few freckles had come to light, it was so beautiful to you, he was so beautiful.

When Anthony turned his gaze to you from the heavily brightened sky, the corners of his eyes crinkled with the smile he gave you. His toothy grin was matched with him asking, “What is it?” You paid no mind to the question, simply smiling at your husband, your heart warming as you stared at him in adoration. You shook your head, “I just love you.” You told him, the comment making him smile wide, his teeth showing in his grin. The day was beautiful, and neither of you could deny that fact. To make the day even more beautiful, flowers were spread around your blanket on the ground, showing proof of spring.

You began to ramble a bit about the newest items you saw in the shop, Anthony just listening with loving eyes. A bee had hummed and buzzed as it circled around your head, when Anthony noticed he straightened up, his eyes widening a bit in fear. He went to move the dreadful creature from you but the bee had found its attention with him instead, buzzing around his head. Anthony had fallen still, horrified.

Anthony had just returned from shooting with his father, Edmund Bridgerton. The elder man had clasped his shoulder, telling him that in due time he will be able to show someone his best. He gave him a truthfully meaningful message about having to show someone your worst before you can show them your best, but the message didn’t stay in Anthonys head very long.

The elder had noticed a group of vibrant purple Hyacinths within their gardens, his wife's favorite flower. He decided to pick the flowers with a hum, expressing how Anthonys mother would love them. The younger boy laughed and began to pick a few himself, his father standing up, swatting a very persistent bee, Anthony shaking his head playfully. He expressed how his younger sister would be quite jealous until he noticed his father had not responded.

”Father?” Anthony spoke, turning to Edmund, the man was touching his neck. “The bloody thing stung me.” He told his son, moving his hand a bit with a twitch of his mouth. A bee sting didn’t mean much, so Anthony nodded and continued to pick a few flowers until his father began to gasp for breaths. Anthony stood, walking to Edmund, “Father, what is it?” He asked, and that question would be repeated a multitude of times with no verbal response.

Edmund Bridgerton had turned to his son, a bright red patch on his neck where the bee stung him, his face extremely pale, his eyes almost black as he struggled to breathe. Anthony watched his father struggle for air and collapse into his arms. He couldn’t even hear when he yelled for someone to help, he didn’t even hear when his pregnant mother, Violet Bridgerton, had come running down the small hill after seeing them through the open door in the back of their home.

Everything happened so fast and all Anthony could process was his father reaching up to cup his mothers cheek one last time, before his hand fell and the light left his eyes. Edmund Bridgerton died that day, Violet Bridgerton became a widow that day, he and his siblings lost their father that day.

Anthony was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts when you swatted the bee away mindlessly. You hummed with a breathless chuckle, “You know it’s spring when the bees are out.” you spoke, looking in the basket for another small snack, unaware of the daze Anthony had just been in. He blinked a bit, looking around as he deeply inhaled, trying not to ruin your nice moment. He clapped his hands to his knees, “Well then.” He began, “I think I have some paperwork to attend to.” He told you, standing up and brushing himself off. You looked up rather quickly from your spot on the blanket, “Can’t it wait? We were having such a nice time.” You said, pouting ever so slightly.

He shook his head, leaning down to you, pressing his lips to yours in a short kiss. “Unfortunately it can not, enjoy the rest of the picnic.” He spoke hastily, walking back into the home, leaving you alone to watch the sky.

Days had passed, Anthony had not joined you again for a picnic, nor had he joined you for any sort of meal after that day. You didn’t understand why he felt the need to lock himself in his office, what was so interesting about paperwork he could tend to at any time? You were worried for him, you knew the footmen in the household brought him food, you just weren’t sure if he ate any of it.

With that, you decided to pay your husband a visit. You dismissed the footman at the door and simply knocked, a muffled ‘Come in’ came from the other side of the door. You gently opened it, smiling sweetly at Anthony who looked up at you, expressionless. You closed the door behind you, observing your surroundings and your husband who sat behind a desk, papers piling it. He looked like he hadn’t slept, if he had then he looked like her hadn’t slept well.

You walked to him, slow steps, the heels of your shoes sounding muffled as they clicked upon the polished floors. “You’ve locked yourself away.” You told him, standing in front of his desk, fingers twiddling in front of you. Anthony kept his eyes on you, quill pen in hands, plenty of papers around that needed signatures. He cleared his throat, “Well, some matter can not be left.” He told you simply, head looking back down to his work.

You walked around the desk, hands smoothing along his shoulders, he tensed more than relaxed. “You need a break.” You hummed to him, gently pressing your hands into the blades of his shoulders. Anthony leaned his head back into the chair, sighing, “I’m sorry my love, I just have so much work to do.” He told you with closed eyes, his mouth in a frown. Your expression mirrored his and you turned his chair a bit, taking his hands in yours. “We should go to town, go for a walk.” You suggested, “Maybe we could pick some flowers and visit your family.” You continued on, hands holding his slightly larger ones in yours.

You saying that seemed to invoke some sort of reaction from your husband, he removed his hands from you, “No.” He spoke harshly, turning back to the papers. You huffed, trying to get him to look at you, he wouldn’t budge. “Why do you refuse to spend time with me? Is your paperwork that important?” You pressed on, standing at his side, pure disbelief on your face.

Anthony put his clenched fists on the desk, “Yes, it is!” He spoke loudly, not looking at you. “You are interrupting very pressing matters, so go.” He told you, head turning to you ever so slightly, one hand raised to point to the door.

The outburst had shocked you, you stood there with a hand to your chest, a frown on your face, tears threatening to prick your eyes. “Anthony I merely hoped…” You began, trying to find the words, instead you found yourself stumbling over them. Anthony shook his head, hand to his temple as he looked back down to the papers, “I care not for your wishes, leave!” HeYou stood up straight, swallowing harshly with a small sniffle. You bowed your head to him, “Of course Mr. Bridgerton.”You spoke, walking out the room, hands clasped together and head held high as you left him alone to his work.

Anthony had not come to the bedroom that night and you had not visited his office for the rest of the day. Neither of you had come down for dinner, eating respectively in separate rooms.

The next day, mid afternoon, you walked into the office area with a tea tray. Typically, a maid would bring it in for you, but you had seemed to reject the idea and believed you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. Anthony had heard the sound of the door opening, no knock, no announcement. He looked up and saw you setting the tea tray on the low table in front of the seats in the office. The tray had two teacups and saucers, a teapot with freshly brewed tea, a sugar bowl, a milk jug, and a strainer. All of which were porcelain with multicolored, delicately painted flowers and the Bridgerton name along the side.

Anthony sighed deeply, he didn’t look irritated, he just looked tired. “ Did I not tell you to leave me be?” He asked since you had not greeted him. You didn’t look at him as you prepared your cup of tea, “That is such a way to speak to your wife Mr. Bridgerton.” You spoke sarcastically, stirring in your sugar and taking a small sip to see if it were to your tastes. A warm smile formed on your face after you drank the warm liquid, sitting comfortably in the chair a little ways across from Anthony's desk, a table in the way of you being directly in front of his desk.

Anthony clasped his hands together, elbows on the desk, “What are you doing?” He asked, lips pursed. You placed your cup on the saucer, “If you truly believe I will let you sit in this office and rot,” You spoke, finally looking at him, “you are gravely mistaken.” You told him, expressionless. Anthony tilted his head to the side, he didn’t believe he was ‘rotting’ in the office space, but he couldn’t speak since you beat him to it. “I shall remain here and tend to you until you see fit to conduct yourself as a gentleman.” You stated, hands in your lap, straightening your posture, “Or to put sourly,” You began, “an adult.”

“Do not treat me like a child.” Anthony told you, hands dropping back to the desk, no movement towards the quills.

“Then do not act like one.”

“What has prompted this?”

You pretend to think for a moment, pulling up your hand to count, “Your blatant disregard for your wife in your own home,” You spoke as you put up a finger, “your refusal to acknowledge her presence or engage with her” you continued, putting another finger up, “or even talk to her.” You finished, putting up the last finger, slightly glaring at him.

There was silence from Anthony as he bit the inside of his cheek, twitching his nose. Due to the silence, you continued to speak, “I vowed to cherish and support you through all, but I will not endure your silence.” You explained, shaking your head a bit with your words. Anthony sighed, moving a few papers out of his way, “You are aware that traditionally wives do not-”

“You did not marry me due to my traditional nature.”

There was more silence from your husband until he ran a hand through his hair. “You will not leave until I discuss ill with you?” He asked, seeming to be contemplating the idea that he just spoke into existence. You nodded, “Precisely.”

“Very well, let’s discuss ills.”

The Bridgerton man stood from his desk and strode to sit next to you. You gestured to the tea and he shook his head, leaning forward, clasping his hands. His leg shook and tapped the floor as he struggled to find the words, “My fathers death left my mother heartbroken, she never remarried.” He spoke suddenly. The words confused you a bit, was that why he had been so closed off? You turned to him fully, crossing your leg over the other, “Your mothers strength,” You began, taking a breath, “is commendable.” You commented, the Brdigerton in front of you chose not to look at you but he nodded. “She said her love for your father was true and her devotion for your father lies strong.” You continued on, thinking about the older woman and how powerful she was for standing strong for her children. “She does not need to marry if she does not wish to.” You completed your thought at his words about his mother.

Anthony put his hands on his knees, straightening himself. He sucked his teeth, “I understand that,” He told you, “but you do not understand how she flinches when they refer to her as Dowager.” He continued on.

At parties they would announce Violet Bridgerton as Dowager VIscountess Bridgerton, and they have for the many years since Edmund Bridgerton had passed.

“My mother remains a widow.” Anthony continued, voice slightly cracking when he thought about the way his mothers hand would tighten around his arm when someone greeted her as ‘Dowager’.

You nodded in understanding, no matter how strong Violet was, it still hurt. You just didn’t process why that caused him to pull from you. “Nevertheless, I am not,” You told him, the words causing him to look put his face in his hands, “hence my lack of understanding of your coldness and sudden refusal to be with me.” You spoke, staring right at him, hands in your lap picking at your nails.

“What if you find yourself a widow?” Anthony asked suddenly, now fully turned to you.

“Pardon me?” You asked blankly, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted.

“What if you find yourself to be a widow?” He repeated, slightly differently.

“If you suspect you may act recklessly, you must inform me at once." You told him cautiously, hand moving towards him, but he pulled back. "My father's passing was but a consequence of being outdoors.” He stated blankly, eyes staring forward, distantly. He never talked about his father's death, it wasn’t a topic he was very open about. “He committed no recklessness, yet the heavens saw fit to claim him.” Anthony's hands were beginning to shake before he clenched them into fists, “A virtuous man, struck down."

“Anthony-”

“What if I do not live a graciously long life?” He asked, head snapping to you, “What if I meet my end, just as young as my father?” He asked another question that you had no answer to other than, “Anthony you will live a long life-”

He stood abruptly, face red, eyes watering, “How could you possibly know that!” He yelled at you, “You do not!” He continued to yell, face such an angry red it almost scared you. He didn’t seem angry though, his eyes were filled with fear, he was scared. You did not expect him to yell or be so emotional, it hurt you deep in your heart to see him look so terrified about what could happen.

Anthony began to pace, hands in his hair and desperately pulling at his collar. “I didn’t even wish to marry,” He told you, seemingly muttering to himself. “I feared leaving my wife alone, especially if we were to have children.” He continued, not gazing at you at all.

You stood, slowly walking to him, “Yet, here you continue to stand,” You said, “alive,and wed.” You reminded him, concern flowing through you as he paced.

He stopped walking, looking at the wedding ring on his finger. “My mother was left with eight children to raise alone.” He mumbled, having to clear his throat from how low he was speaking. “I, the eldest, lost my father when I was eighteen left to carry his title and responsibility.” He spoke to you, reminding himself of all the information he didn’t know when he was eighteen and how he had to figure it all out, how he had to be the man of the house at such a young age. “I do not wish for you and our future child to endure the same fate.”

You were quiet, “Then why did you marry me?” You whispered, your expression was slightly crinkled but you were listening. Anthony had turned to you, a soft but sad expression on his face. He gently held your hands, looking into your eyes. “My affection for you was undeniable.” He confessed, cupping one of your cheeks with his large hand, a bit of sweat dripping down his forehead from being so worked up. “It was so difficult to be inexplicably in love with you and watch for you to have other suitors.” He continued, drawing a breath, “I was drawn to you, as a moth to flame.”

You licked your lips, “Yet, you still harbor fears of leaving me-”

“The responsibility of children and a title you cannot shed unless you remarry.” He interrupted you, thumbs rubbing at your cheeks. He looked at you desperately, desperate for you to understand how he was feeling, but you could not. “Which I have no intention to do.” You retorted to his comment, he is the only man you believe you’ll ever love and nothing will change that.

Anthony nodded, dropping his hands from your face. He remembered how he wasn’t there for his mother, for his family sometimes. “I acknowledge that I was a challenge to deal with for my mother.” He spoke, and you were aware of such things. He had admitted these feats to you during your courtship, during small corners of vulnerability. “I just do not wish for you to face similar struggles alone.” He finished his thought, ultimately refusing to meet your gaze as he found the bookcases to be far more interesting.

You shook your head, “She did not endure it alone.” You stated matter-of-factly. Anthony looked up, eyes blinking in confusion, “What?” He asked you, so you continued. “Your mother, she had you, she had Benedict, Colin, Daphne. All of her children were her solace and support.” You expressed to him, reminding him of all of his siblings. They all had each other, they were all her shoulder to cry on just as she was theirs.

Anthony sighed for the thousandth time within that conversation, “We were not easy children.” He told you. Eloise didn’t wish to marry, he had been such a terrible man of the house in the beginning, Benedict did not wish for the responsibility, Colin rushed into things too quickly, Daphne had so much going on when she was named the diamond of the season, his younger siblings couldn’t even fathom the world they were in.

“No child ever is.” You told him simply, holding his hand gently. This time, he did not pull away.

You smiled at him, kissing his cheek gently and pulling back to look him into his eyes. “Now,” You started, letting out the puff of air that was compressing your chest the entire conversation. “I’d prefer if we do not speak the subject of your demise as if it were to greet us at dawn.” You told him, the comment causing him to chuckle a bit, holding your hand a little tighter. “You will come down for dinner and we will enjoy a meal together.” You told him and he nodded, “I will be down in a moment, I shall see the papers are put away first.” He spoke, looking around to all the papers scattered on his desk and some even on the floor.

You left him to the papers and asked your maid to get dinner started, the woman asking if there were any preferences you wanted. The door had closed and Anthony was soon left alone.

Once the door had closed Anthony had begun to gasp for breath, unbuttoning the top of his shirt for air. His chest began to have as he leaned against the door, tears filling his eyes. He furiously wiped at them, trying so hard to push them back but he couldn’t stop them when a choked sob left his lips. His hands were shaking when they reached his face to wipe at his eyes hurriedly. The topic of conversation was difficult, you were so sure that the two of you would grow old together with your children, that you would not have to worry about being a widow, but Anthony was not so sure.

Everyday he saw a little bit of his father in himself and it terrified him. Such a good man was taken from the world by something as simple as a bee and it scared Anthony of everything around him. Sure, before he was not scared of death, even going as far as to call for a duel where he was prepared to die for his sister's honor. But now, he had you, and he did not wish to leave you.

Anthony shakily clasped his hands in a prayer, praying for all the time in the world to be with you. Praying for more time than his father had, praying for a chance. He muttered small prayers, “Please, I just wish to be with her, I will never ask for anything else.” He cried out quietly, eyes closed, tears pouring from his eyes. “I just want time, time with her, please.” He begged quietly, his prayers in reflection to how lonely he saw his mother was. She had so many children but he knew that his mother wished for his father to be there to help her everyday.

A knock had sounded at the door, the noise caused Anthony to stand quickly and rush to the other side of the room with documents, back to the door. He cleared his throat, sniffling one last time, “Enter.” He spoke, the door opening.

“Lord Bridgerton, dinner is served.” A footman had announced, standing in the doorway.

Anthony put the documents away, wiping his tears without the man noticing. “I shall be there in just a moment's time.” He told the man, putting some documents into the drawers. The man nodded and closed the door, going to inform you of the comment.

The door closed once more and Anthony felt his legs were so weak that he had almost collapsed into the furniture. One of his hands gripped the edge of the drawer, the other clawing at his chest. He felt as if every time he took a breath his chest would tighten, he felt nauseous, dizzy. The room was spinning and his vision was blurry from his tears. It almost seemed as if he were dying, but he was not, everything felt like so much but nothing was happening.

It all felt like too much.

He tried to take a few more deep breaths, the pain ceasing and his vision returning back to normal. He slowly exhaled, blinking and wiping his tears. He clenched his jaw as he stood up straight, muttering some words of ‘man of the house’, ‘loving husband’, ‘time’. He couldn't connect the words even if he tried, all he knew was that he was going to dinner.

All he knew was that his father's words rang in his head, but he kept shaking them from his mind. “You cannot show someone your best without allowing them to see your worst.” If only his father had told him how difficult it was to show someone your worst. How frightening it was to show true vulnerability, to find the words to explain feelings you don’t even understand fully yourself.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #angst #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #Infinite Imaginings

827 notes · View notes

wrenwreads · 2 years

Text

frozen festivities

winter time in narnia, and peter thinks he’s going to lose his mind

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!bsf!reader

warnings: nothing

genre: fluff

word count: 606

a/n: if i didn't have such bad cold allergies, i wouldn't have written this bc this is where the idea came from lmao.

"Ed, it's freezing. Move over!"

It had been snowing that day, the castle's stone walls trapping in the cold. The four siblings and Y/N situated themselves in the sitting room where the hot blazing fire lit up by the fireplace warmed them up.

It seemed to not be enough for Y/N, for now she's desperately trying to get Edmund to scoot a bit to give her a bit more of the fire's warmth.

The said boy only scowled in return, further burrowing himself under the big blanket he took to prove his point of not moving.

From the back, Peter, Susan, and Lucy huddled themselves together, a cup of hot chocolate in their hands. The three had been talking casually when Y/N and Edmund's loud whispers of what they like to call bickering had caught their attention. Now they were just plainly conspiring.

“Honestly, one of these days I’m going to lock them both in the cleaning closet until one of them gives up,” Peter spoke, eyes set on as the two as they went back to their usual activity of bickering. This time, blanket sharing.

“Why don’t you get your own?” Edmund asked. “Because!” Y/N answered back, rolling her eyes. “Because what, Y/N?”

Lucy flicked her attention to her oldest brother, scoffing as she did so. “Nothing will happen in that closet. For all I know, they’ll just find something to entertain themselves.”

“Or Y/N will find something to get themselves out,” Susan added.

They could only sigh, watching as their brother and (their almost) sister-in-law hopelessly interact with each other as if everything’s platonic.

“Ed, will you please — pretty please, I’m literally begging you — just move over so I could sit down for 5 minutes under warmth and then I’ll leave. Or you’ll best friend will die from hyperthermia, and no one will save you from Peter’s teasing.”

At the mention of the older boy’s name, Y/N allowed her eyes to flicker towards the three, where Peter only rolled his eyes with a smile forming on his face. Y/N giggled, before her face morphed back into a scowl upon meeting Edmund’s amused gaze. “What?” she asked blankly.

Edmund shook his head, the amused smile on his face not faltering. “Nothing.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she starts to walk away from the fireplace. This caused Edmund to falter, face scrunching up in confusion. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think?” Y/N answered back, her lower arms raised, proving the obvious. Although, it seemed to not be obvious for the boy as he only tilted his head to let the girl elaborate. This made her sigh, rolling her eyes once again as she lowered her arms. “To get my own blanket. Like you told me too.”

Edmund scoffed, removing his arm from where it had been huddled against his chest to opening it up, bringing a side of the blanket with him. “As if I’d let you. Just come under here.”

She rolled her eyes once again, this time playfully as she placed herself under Edmund’s open arm, where the boy was quick to wrap around her. She let out a sigh of relief at the warmness, earning a chuckle from Edmund. “Warm now, are we?”, he asked, looking down at her face, one side smushed against his shoulder. She only hummed in delight, closing her eyes. A fond smile grows on Edmund’s face. Soon after, he rests his head over hers.

“I am absolutely going to lose it.”

Peter had to share, causing his sister’s to giggle.

thank u for reaching the end !! this one’s another giggly one i had to write. i hope u enjoyed xoxo

#edmund pevensie x y/n #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #the chronicles of narnia x reader #x reader #pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie x fem!reader #edmund pevensie x f!reader #edmund pevensie one shot #edmund pevensie fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie x you #wrenwritesed

836 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 4 months

Note

I just read Jerry and Hedwig reacting to us bleeding on the sheets what about the guys👀 specifically silas (cause my daddy issues run wild for him)😩

Silas, Dr Kry & King Edmund drabbles: bleeding through at a "sleepover" (or in their house)

The girls reaction male!yanderes (mob boss, doctor & king) x fem!reader Warnings?: sexual indication, disgusted by blood, yandere

Silas:

You're on a mission with him, staying in a house belonging to the second in command. Being the boss’s little darling has its benefits — especially in these situations. If you hadn't been his, chances are that you would get killed for ruining someone's sheets.

"Silas", you whisper while shaking him carefully. "Please, wake up. Oh, God, please wake up ..."

He grunts and opens his dark eyes, looking around confusedly before fixating his eyes on you. He freezes.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asks raspily and grabs your arm.

"I bled through ...", you whisper weakly, body full pf panic. "I didn't know, I wasn't supposed to start now!"

Silas removes the cover to look at the stain. He doesn't say anything as he removes them all before picking up his phone to call one of his most trustworthy men.

"Don't worry about it, baby", he says tiredly. "I'll fix this."

"Will your second in command get mad?" you ask hesitantly.

"He won't. He knows better." Silas holds the phone to his ear. "I need you to bring me new sheets and to send someone to buy whatever Y/N tells you to get. Here Y/N."

He gives you the phone. You tell the man on the other side what you need. He replies politely, knowing better than to talk informally to you. Silas stands by, watching carefully and rubbing your back.

As soon as you get what you need, you get out of your bottom clothes and change. Silas sits down in bed with you in his lap. He brings his legs up to trap you in his embrace. His rough hands sneak under your shirt to massage your aching stomach.

"You know ...", he whispers in your ear, hand traveling lower. "Exercise helps with cramps ... I know something that is a great form of exercise. Want me to show you?"

You grab his hand, moving it back to your stomach.

"Come on", he smirks against your jaw. "You'd like it."

"I'll kick your nuts if you continue talking", you warn him.

Silas chuckles and pulls the blankets higher, kissing your forehead.

"Women and their temperament", he grins and softens his face. "Guess I have to wait then. Why don't you try going to sleep, little thing? It's late."

"Are you sure your second in command won't be mad?" you ask carefully.

"If he even dares to snarl at you, I'll stain his sheets with his blood instead." Silas kisses your lips with a reassuring smile. "You have nothing to be worried about, little thing, I've always got your back."

Dr Kry:

He has installed a baby monitor, just a week prior, to being able to supervise you 24/7. He wakes up by hearing shuffling from the machine and takes a look to see you grabbing all of your sheets in your arms. Dr Kry frowns. Are you going to sleep on the floor again? You have such weird ideas to entertain yourself. But the look of sheer guilt and horror paints your face, knocking those thoughts out of his head. Dr Kry hurries to grab his silk robe and hurry up to your room.

You're currently washing them in the bathtub. You freeze when you hear him unlock the door and enter the room.

"Where are you?" he asks.

"Here", you reply quietly, watching how he enters the bathroom.

Dr Kry crouches down beside you on the floor, putting his hand on your shoulder. He glances between the sheets and your face.

"What happened?" he asks.

"I-I bled through", you say. "I'm so sorry, doctor, I will fix it-"

"No, you're not." Dr Kry grabs your arm and pulls you up in your feet. "I'll fix it. You're not well, you shouldn't do this."

You feel bad. Dr Kry works long shifts and during his only rest, you've forced him up to clean up the mess you've caused.

"Y/N, it's fine", the doctor reassures you and walks over to give you a short hug. "Things like this happens. You should look at it from another angle — you can be pregnant. You're fertile. Alright? That's a good thing. A very good thing."

He's secretly glad that his poisoning hasn't affected your reproduction organs. You need them. He wants you to have them. Dr Kry wants nothing more than to have children with you.

"Let's stop crying and realize that this isn't a big thing, okay?" he says and wipes your tears. "You don't have to be ashamed. I've watched much, much worse things."

"Like what?" you ask quietly.

Dr Kry smiles teasingly. "I've seen people spill urine samples on themselves, have had people using the rear temperature stick for a patients mouth, and whatnot. This is nothing. It's natural, nothing to be ashamed of."

You try not to smile. "Did someone really use the wrong temperature stick?"

Dr Kry grins and nods, happy to see you a bit calmer.

"Let's get you some painkillers now so you can go rest", he says and puts his hand on your back to guide you. "I'll change the sheets, and you can just sit by, okay? Everything you need is in the bathroom."

He sits with you until the cramps stop, and decide to stay in the room with you while you sleep, just in case you would wake up again. He smiles slightly for himself. The poisioned air hasn't ruined your chances of ferility, he couldn't be more greateful.

King Edmund

You're terrified of telling him. Edmund is the type to believe that you can hold it in. With absolutely zero knowledge about females, risk is that he will get mad at you for ruining his expensive sheets instead of understanding. You know that he buys them from special places. One of a kind.

Edmund has never been taught how women work, it has been taboo and unnecessary for him, as a king, to learn. The only thing he knows is that a woman bleeds once a month, and that is it. Nothing more. He doesn't know how it works or why it happens.

But you can't stop the maid from telling him. He comes walking from his office with a deep frown on his face. You're dead. Before sending the maids out, he walks over to the bed and inspects the damage. When the girls are gone and the door is closed, he turns to you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

"I thought that you would get mad", you admit quietly. "It's your expensive sheets ..."

"And you think that it'll help the situation by sending one of the maids to tell me, instead of telling me yourself?"

"I didn't send her. I didn't want you to know ... at all."

"Why?"

"I told you ... I was scared that you'd get mad. You'd have told me to keep it in."

He groans, hiding his face in his hands. "For fucks sake, Y/N!" He removes his hands. "Why in the living Hell would I care more about about a pair of sheets rather than my own wife?"

You don't answer. Edmund walks over and grabs your shoulders before pulling you into a hug.

"You underestimate me, my jewel", he mutters and kisses your temple. "Now, go take a bath."

He tells a maid to fill the tub with scalding hot water to soothe your cramps and tells another maid to change the sheets.

"Burn the sheets and the night gown", he tells the maid. "I don't want anyone unworthy to see my queen's blood, got it?"

And the maid nods quickly before running off.

While you sit in the steaming tub, Edmund sits on the floor beside it, keeping you company. He should be doing work, but instead he's here, with you.

"I'm sorry about your sheets", you sigh and lean against the tub. "I know that they're expensive."

"Shut up about those fucking sheets now", Edmund groans and caresses your cheek. "I have enough to buy a hundred more sheets. I could buy the entire world, if I wanted to. A few sheets are nothing for me."

He leans over to kiss your wet forehead.

"Are you disgusted?" you ask carefully.

"A bit ... but not as much as I thought I'd be", Edmund replies with a grimace. "I'm more concerned about you, to be honest. Seeing you bleed, in any way, makes my heart sink in a disgusting way. I'm just angry I don't have anyone to blame for your pain."

You try to joke. "Blame my parents for making me a girl."

But he looks deadly serious. "No, never. They made you ... my wife and queen. I could never blame them for giving you this pain." He sighs and taking your hand. "If there is anything i can do to take the pain away, tell me. Teach me."

"Well, you actually had this right, the warm water. It helps."

"Anything else?"

"Sugar. Just for the hormones."

Edmund nods, thinking. He shouts for a maid to tell the kitchen staff to make cakes. He then turns back to you and smiles proudly. Maybe he isn't as bad as you thought?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #female reader #yandere ocs #yandere king #yandere male #male yandere

1K notes · View notes