#AND IT WAS ONLY FROM MY FRIEND WHO KEPT TOUCHING MY NECK.

[godhandler]

Rent A BF!

#3.5 | young toji fushiguro x reader | fluff, mentions of prostitution, aged and sometimes offensive terminology | 780 words

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2nd  February, 1996

Toji peered over the bottles of makeup strewn over the dingy floor. The client had demanded that he cover all his tattoos and scars, so here he was, sitting amongst all the street-hookers and getting his face painted over. He made sure that he grumbled enough. 

Whether or not either side would accept it, the street-hookers and Toji were friends. Everyone in Minami-Senju was, to some degree. It was a rough place in a rough city in a rough time; the bullies and the bullied were the one and the same. They stole each other’s watches and fed each other’s children all the same. 

There was no greater demonstration of this unhinged sense of community than their shared pool of makeup. Every evening, anyone who wanted some blush or mascara ventured down to Morufi Auntie’s garage (one of the very few to have one). Morufi Auntie would sit her aching back down on a stool and personally mix-and-match foundations till everyone got the shade they came for. 

Right now it was Toji who kneeled down to her level, allowing her to test her match on his cheek. She usually gets the colour right on the first try, but once she realised that she was matching the layer of grime on Toji’s face rather than his skin, she screamed for someone to get his nasty ass off her before she brought her slipper out. 

“Hag bitch,” Toji swore. 

“Gutter orphan,” Morufi Auntie swore right back.

It was the benevolent fish-seller lady who took Toji aside and taught him to rub sweet almond oil (borrowed) to get the blackheads out his nose-tip and wash the dirt off his cheeks with a foaming face-wash (borrowed). “Good for your oily skin,” she said, “like all the young ones of your age.” 

She then poured some milky rice-water essence (borrowed too) into his palms. “Pat it into your face, and now dab this–” she squeezed out a teeny tiny dot out of an already-wrung tube, “–neem gel I got from the Chamars. Put a little on your pimples, works like magic.”

“I just came to get my scar painted over.” He pouted. This was severely tanking his big bad guy persona, but at least none of the guys who’d care about it were here. In here, in the Morufi Auntie’s Makeup Garage, people called each other shit like ‘glowing’ or ‘radiant’ or ‘OMG I love your eyebrows’, disparaging guy-talk was strictly prohibited. Toji couldn’t help but feel calmer here too. 

The fish-seller lady just shook her head. “My boy was just like you at this age, never put on sunscreen even though I’d get on his ass. That reminds me– sunscreen! But before that a light moisturiser (also borrowed)– there, aren’t you looking so decent? Now, sugar, go run along to Auntie.” 

Toji didn’t like the way she baby-talked him, but he could not deny that his face felt cleaner and fresher than he ever remembered. 

Morufi Auntie kept true to her fame, churning out his colour match in one go. It didn’t take a lot of (borrowed) foundation, Toji was pretty fair, true to his noble Zenin blood, it was only the sun-tan that darkened patches of his cheeks and forehead. 

Auntie knew not to touch his scar. Toji caked the concealer on himself, and then, following her instructions, patted the colour in with a setting powder. “Blend it out, down to your chin and neck, always. Follow the shadow of your cheekbones and blend, blend, blend it in,” she’d repeat to everyone who came to her. 

He stared into the hand-mirror a street-hooker lent him. The scar crossing his lip was completely gone, almost like… 

“Like it was never there,” he breathed out. A version of him that grew up without the events that led to him getting that scar. A happier alternate universe. “Not bad.”

“It’s art, alright. No one leaves here unhappy.” Morufi Auntie leant back to admire the young boy. The garage was full of people, mostly women, patting, tapping, glossing, shining, yelling, laughing. Shared mirrors, shared makeup, shared tin-wall garage. “We’re artists here.”

“Just like geishas!” Shiki shouted from the other corner of the room. He didn’t want to miss watching his friend getting dolled up and throwing a fit and causing a huge commotion, but it went disappointingly okay. At least he won’t get on my ass about how makeup is cheating now. Shiki shrugged. Win’s a win.

“I’m not a fucking geisha,” Toji bit back, his masculinity pinched. 

“You look pretty as one, or maybe an idol singer?” Shiki stuck his tongue out. “What, I’m saying positive things!” 

Poor Shiki couldn’t duck Morufi Auntie’s slipper in time.

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a/n: the last chapter would've raised the question, "how did toji learn that you need to blend your foundation?" he lives and he learns, lol.

morufi is a bantu name from botswana. after ww2, japan offered scholarships to african students for postgraduate studies, many of whom ended up living here. chamar is a low-caste hindu surname from india. compared to an upper caste indian immigrant who often migrate abroad with a strong financial and educational safety net, one might wonder how and why the chamars came to japan.

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 28 - I Would Not Cause Her One Regret

Summary: Under the tender care of Wapiti's medicine woman, Kate receives life-changing news that will forever alter the course of her and Arthur's future. In the midst, she uncovers a gift left by Hosea, something that will carry them through the journey ahead.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Previous Chapter /

AN: 12k Words. This is my new favorite chapter, it really felt like it wrote itself at times. (There is smut coming but I'm putting it in its own chapter bc its quite long...)

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw  @yallgotkik @sawendel

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Story Tags: Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Caretaking, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

Freedom is an untamed beast, wild and feral, impossible to hold without losing a part of yourself. Some give everything for it, others bleed for it, and many spend their lives chasing its shadow, never knowing it was in their grasp all along.

As they rode deeper into the mountains, the weight of civilization fell away, its rules and customs crumbling like ash in the wind. Out here, the world belongs to no one and everyone all at once. The land answers only to the sky, and the only law is the one written in the marrow of your bones. It doesn’t ask who you are or where you’ve been—it just demands you let go.

Freedom is riding wild over untamed lands with no notion any moment exists beyond the one you are living.

Arthur followed in the shadow of Eagle Flies, the young man’s figure cutting a determined path against the twilight. Kate rested sideways in his lap, her body fragile and fevered, a weight that felt heavier than it should. She shivered against him, her shallow breaths hitching with every bump of the trail. Arthur’s heart clenched with every sign of her pain, a cruel reminder that he’d pushed her too far.

He muttered promises she might not even hear, low reassurances that the journey would be over soon, that she’d be safe and warm again. But those words felt hollow when measured against the fire in her cheeks and the trembling in her frame. All he could do was hold her close, shielding her from the chill and praying the people of Wapiti would welcome them with the same warmth he couldn’t give her.

The trek from Annesburg had been relentless—hours of climbing rugged hills, navigating shadowed valleys, and crossing the jagged spines of Roanoke Ridge. The land felt as hostile as the men who wandered it. Breathing down their necks from places unseen, watching, and waiting. 

They’d stumbled upon horrors Arthur prayed Kate wouldn’t remember. 

It began with a stench, sickly sweet and cloying, clinging to the air like decay itself. The source revealed itself— human remains strewn across the earth, picked clean, as though the forest itself had rejected the bodies. A band of cannibals had appeared from the trees. Their gaunt faces twisted with a feral hunger as they crept out like pale writhing maggots. 

Arthur didn’t hesitate. He silenced them with well-placed shots, each echoing like the rusted throat of a bell through the forest. Not bothering to wait and see who fell; he just kept firing until every movement ceased. And not a flicker of regret crossed his face. 

Kate had turned her face into his chest, her fingers clutching weakly at his coat as though she could block out the reality around them. He held her tighter, shielding her from the sight, from the smell, from everything.

From that moment, his resolve hardened. There would be no more stops, no moments of rest, no lingering—not until they reached Wapiti. 

The trail was long, but he’d make it shorter, cutting through the heart of the wilderness with single-minded determination. The thought of Kate enduring even a fraction more of this hell lit a fire in him that wouldn’t burn out until they reached safety.

As the earth turned, indifferent to their struggles, dawn unfurled its golden threads across the sky, soft light spilling over the edges of the world. The warmth kissed their weary faces, yet the weight in Arthur’s lap tethered him to the gravity of his purpose. Each breath he took felt borrowed, a quiet prayer carried on the fragile morning air.

Through the trees, thin tendrils of smoke rose from Wapiti, winding skyward like whispers from the land itself. Arthur felt as though he was standing on the edge of time, suspended between heartbeats, daring the wind to bear them the final stretch. Every creak of the saddle and rustle of leaves seemed to echo a silent plea: only a little farther.

Freedom isn’t found; it’s forged. It doesn’t merely cost blood—it demands it, devours it. 

It is no gentle gift but a treasure wrested from the clenched fists of an unforgiving world. And as Arthur urged the horse forward, he wondered if they had paid enough, or if freedom would always slip out of reach, like the rising smoke dissipating into the golden sky.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The horse’s hooves crunched softly against the brittle earth as Arthur guided Belle closer to Eagle Flies, the small, weathered expanse of Wapiti rising like a tired sigh from the valley floor. Cradled by towering gray cliffs and ancient pine trees, the reservation felt like the last refuge of a vanishing world—its fragility stark against the sprawl of the wilderness. The morning sun spilled its light like a hesitant blessing, but the shadows it cast were long and pointed, heavy with the weight of memories too sharp to be forgotten.

Smoke curled skyward from tepee tops like prayers, their buffalo-hide walls painted with bold strokes of lineage and defiance. The symbols seemed to pulse with life, stories etched into the skin of survival itself, each one a declaration against time’s relentless erosion. 

They stood not as monuments, but as promises that these people, this place, would endure, even as the world threatened to erase them.

The land bore its own wounds, raw and desolate. The soil beneath the settlement was cracked like parched lips, its breath caught in the barren lungs of fields where crops clung to life by sheer will. What should have been lush and thriving felt ghostly, the very earth seeming to groan under the strain of expectation and loss. 

Arthur saw it in the sag of the tepees, the defeated gait of a hunter returning empty-handed, and the thin wisps of smoke curling from modest cooking fires. Every detail spoke of a people stretched thin, their resilience a thread pulled taut.

And yet, amid the weariness, life stirred with a quiet insistence. Children darted between the structures like sparks in a dying fire, their laughter piercing the stillness with a wild, fleeting joy. A mother’s soft hum drifted like a lullaby carried on the wind, soothing her swaddled infant against her breast. Friends huddled close around a small fire, their voices low but warm, weaving moments of solace into the fabric of their shared burdens.

Arthur felt the weight of it all settle in his chest, heavy as lead. This place was a battleground of hope and despair, its spirit caught in a delicate dance between resilience and surrender. He wasn’t sure if Wapiti held the answers or the salvation they sought.

But as he took in the quiet persistence of its people, he couldn’t deny that even here, on the edge of collapse, life refused to be extinguished.

A young man, lean and sharp-eyed, emerged from behind one of the larger tepees, his gaze locking onto the approaching group. He called out, his voice edged with relief and suspicion. “Eagle Flies! You live, brother!”

Eagle Flies straightened in his saddle, though the weariness in his body was apparent. “I live, Paytah,” he replied calmy, even as his wounds betrayed his struggle.

Paytah’s sharp gaze shifted to Arthur and Kate. The lines around his mouth deepened as his lips pressed into a thin line. “Why have you brought these outsiders here? Their kind has brought nothing but suffering to our people,” he said, walking alongside them as they entered the heart of the reservation. His voice carried the weight of distrust, each word a stone cast into the quiet tension that rippled in the air.

“It is well, brother. They are friends,” Eagle Flies said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “This man saved my life when the soldiers were ready to take it.”

Paytah’s eyes narrowed as he studied Arthur and Kate. The pale faces, the tired eyes—signs of struggle etched into their features. Though his skepticism remained, the authority in Eagle Flies’ words softened his stance. With a grunt, he stepped forward and offered Eagle Flies an arm, helping him down from the saddle with care.

As Eagle Flies’ feet touched the ground, the murmurs began. Men and women emerged from their tepees, leaving behind their weaving, cooking, and quiet conversations to gather around. Faces painted with years of hardship and resilience bore a mixture of joy at the sight of their chief's son and unease at the presence of the outsiders. The voices grew louder, some calling his name with relief, others muttering words of doubt and disapproval.

Through the growing crowd, a booming voice silenced the whispers like a sudden burst of wind. “My son!”

Chief Rains Fall stepped forward, his long, dark hair swaying with each purposeful stride. His weathered face, etched with the wisdom of a lifetime, twisted with concern as he took in his son’s battered appearance.

“What has happened to you?” he demanded, a rich, steady baritone that carried the gravity of a man used to commanding attention. “Speak now and speak only the truth. What has brought this upon you?”

The crowd parted, creating a wide berth as Rains Fall reached his son. His hands hovered over Eagle Flies as if afraid to touch him and worsen his injuries. The chief’s gaze flickered briefly to Arthur and Kate before returning to his son, his brow furrowing with unspoken questions.

Arthur remained silent, standing firm at Belle’s side, his gaze steady but respectful. Kate, pale and feverish, leaned weakly against him. He tightened his grip on her, feeling the stares of the gathered tribe like the heat of a midday sun, judgment burning in their eyes. 

This was not his story to tell, not his place to speak.

Eagle Flies swallowed hard, voice hoarse but steady as he spoke. “Father…I led a group of men to attack a military camp outside of Saint Denis.”

“Saint Denis?” Rains Fall’s thundered, the disbelief and disappointment woven through every syllable. “You told me you were going to the mountains to seek guidance from your spirit! Do you think me a fool, my son? Your lies wound my pride deeply. Where are the others who followed you into this madness?”

Eagle Flies’ shoulders slumped beneath the weight of his father’s condemnation. “Gone,” he admitted. “Their spirits have joined the wind.”

A shadow of sorrow passed over Rains Fall’s face, his disappointment settling like a heavy cloud in his chest. “How many times must I warn you, Eagle Flies? Reckless violence will not free us—it will only hasten our ruin. Do you not see the storm you bring upon us with these careless actions? The blood spilled today will stain your hands forever.” His voice rose through the air like thunder. “Go now! Find the mothers of the men you led to their deaths and tell them what your pride has cost.”

Eagle Flies stiffened, his face flushing with fury despite the bruises that marred it. “What choice did we have, Father?” he retorted, raw with anger and pain. “They treat us like cattle, pen us in as though we are less than human. How long must we endure their humiliation before we fight back?”

“You have done enough!” Rains Fall cut him off, his voice harsh. His hand rose in a dismissive gesture, the finality in it brooking no argument. “Go! Do not make me ask again, Eagle Flies.”

Eagle Flies hesitated, his chest heaving with unspent rage, but the command in his father’s tone left no room for rebellion. With a sharp exhale, he turned and walked away, his steps heavy with resentment and shame. The crowd parted silently to let him pass, their eyes a mix of sympathy and reproach.

Rains Fall watched him go, his expression unreadable, the burden of leadership heavy upon his shoulders. Around him, the murmurs of the tribe swelled like an incoming tide, but he stood resolute, his grief and disappointment hidden behind a mask of fleeting strength.

The crowd lingered as Rains Fall raised a hand, the gesture firm and commanding, though weariness sat heavy on his shoulders. His voice, when it came, was quiet but filled with authority.

“The time for words has passed,” he said, but the deep lines etched in his face spoke of exhaustion and sorrow. His gaze swept over the crowd, ensuring they understood the finality of his command. “Go now. Each to your thoughts. There is nothing more to be said here.”

Arthur stood in silence, his chest tight, unsure of how to respond. The words stuck in his throat, choking him, while Kate shifted against him, seeking comfort and rest. She needed it—desperately. Her breath was shallow, her body fragile. The tension in the air was thick, like dust settling after a stampede, an uneasy silence that hung between them all.

Paytah took hold of Lorena and Belle’s reins, guiding the horses away from the crowd. The heavy, unspoken understanding between the two men—the weight of what had just transpired—lingered. But Rains Fall’s gaze softened as he watched his people leave, the movement of the horses an echo of the quiet dispersing crowd. After a moment, he turned back to Arthur, his posture still tall, but his age and wisdom seemed to press on him, slowing his movements.

He looked Arthur over, his tired eyes searching for something—an understanding, perhaps, or a reason to be at peace with what had just unfolded.

“Arthur Morgan…” Rains Fall began, gentler now, though his tone still carried gravity. He extended a hand toward him, a solemn gesture of gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough. I am sorry for whatever trouble my son has brought upon you. Please, allow me to repay you for the kindness.”

Arthur shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the offer. His gaze dropped briefly before he met Rains Fall’s eyes. “No payment necessary, Chief Rains Fall,” he said, rough from the weight of the day’s events. He let out a short, breathless chuckle. “That boy of yours… he’s got the fire of a feral horse, all wound up ‘nd ready to buck. I just hope he learns to control that temper ‘fore it drags him into somethin’ worse.”

Rains Fall’s eyes darkened, a deep sadness flickering behind them. His chest swelled with the love he felt for his son, but it was also burdened by a father’s fear. “He is my pride and joy, Mr. Morgan.” His voice cracked slightly, the words holding a weight that spoke of both love and helplessness. “But I’m afraid even I cannot save him from himself.”

He paused, his hands clasping together in thought, before reaching for a pouch of coins, holding them out to Arthur. “I have some money,” he said steadily. “Please, take it for saving my boy. It’s the least I can offer.”

Arthur shook his head firmly, his face set in an expression of reluctance. “Keep your money…” His voice softened, looking back down at Kate, who had her eyes closed, leaning into him. “But I could use your help with somethin’ else.”

Rains Fall’s sharp eyes softened as he followed Arthur’s gaze, understanding settling in. His posture straightened, the weariness lifting for a moment as he focused on the matter at hand. “I can see that.” His eyes lingered on Kate, taking in her fragile state. “Your woman… she carries the marks of a long struggle, as if a spirit has been slowly draining her strength.”

Arthur nodded, as the Chief pressed his palm to feel the warmth of her forehead. His eyes clouded with concern. “Eagle Flies mentioned you had some kind of medicine woman?”

“Yes,” Rains Fall answered, his tone shifting to one of reverence, as though speaking of something sacred. “White Dove is a great healer. Her knowledge is vast, her hands gentle.”

Arthur took a deep breath, his hand brushing over his jaw, the strain of worry heavy in his voice. “Kate…she’s,” her name slipped from his lips, full of urgency. 

She is more to you than that. 

He hesitated for a moment, as if the name did not carry enough meaning, more than he'd intended. His voice became firm as he continued. “My wife… she’s taken ill. Ain’t been sleepin’ right, nor eatin’ much. What little she can keep down just comes back up.” 

The title graced his tongue as naturally as the breath in his lungs. The simple word filled him with so much love, an aching need to shield her from pain. An instinct as old as time, deep and undeniable. It wasn’t just a label—it was a truth he hadn’t quite grasped until now. The weight of it settled in his chest, heavy yet right.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a new wave of responsibility crashed over him, and for a fleeting moment, the world around him seemed to shift. His heart clenched, thoughts of everything he and Kate had endured together flooding his mind, all of it weaving into something more than just a bond forged in shared hardship. 

A desperate feeling that he couldn’t quite name, something urgent, primal. Paternal. 

He looked at her, her fragile form slumped against him, and a new surge of protectiveness swelled within him, instinctive and fierce. 

She’s yours to protect, she’s tied to you now. 

Though the words felt strange, even foreign. Arthur welcomed this instinct as it coursed through him, unsure of why it hit him so suddenly, but feeling that it was a part of him now, and he couldn’t shake it. 

Nothing will take that away from you.

Kate’s voice echoed in his mind, a question that still lingered—Do you want it to change, Arthur?

That longing for change—he realized it was more than just a desire. It had become something real, something solid in his heart. Something fragile and innocent cradled in his calloused hands. The quiet yearning to build something lasting with Kate was no longer just a dream. It was a promise, a reality. And in this moment, it was as if the universe had whispered a secret to him without words, pulling him toward her in a way he couldn’t explain but would never question.

Rains Fall’s expression darkened with concern, his hand instinctively reaching for Kate, as if preparing to move swiftly. “I will bring her to White Dove,” he said firmly. “She will help.”

Arthur nodded gratefully, his shoulders slumping with a mix of relief and exhaustion. He knew there was little more he could do, and the thought of White Dove’s healing touch was a small comfort in the face of Kate’s suffering.

Rains Fall’s eyes flickered to the horizon, and he let out a sigh, the weight of leadership pressing upon him once again. “You have fought long, Arthur Morgan. Rest now. We will see to your wife.”

Arthur didn’t answer right away, his mind racing with what had happened and what might come next. For a long moment, he just stood there, looking at her, struggling to find the words. Finally, he nodded, offering a quiet thanks, though the weight of his feelings was too much to put into words.

He pressed a soft kiss to Kate’s cheek, his hand lingering as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. In a low, steady voice, he whispered promises that she’d be alright, even if he wasn’t sure of the truth in them himself.

With one last look, he watched as Rains Fall gently led her away, toward one of the tepees. His heart tightened, but there was nothing more he could do now

His guilt will not purify him of his sins, as the dog that weeps after it kills is no better than the dog that doesn’t. But there is something in her—something—that will save him. 

In the way a seed buried in the earth can one day push through the dirt, seeking light, so too does a new purpose rise within him. It is the promise of a future unknown, full of potential. A chance to grow, to change, and to leave behind his past.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

By the authority vested in me, this sentence shall now be carried out. Arthur Morgan you have been found guilty and will be condemned to death by hanging. Do you have any last words? 

Arthur stood at the gallows, his hollow blue eyes locking with hers, a quiet intensity in his gaze. His lips moved in a whisper, the words carrying across the void between them.

‘Keep fighting, my wife. Keep fighting for the both of you’ 

Kate opened her eyes with a startled gasp, her chest heaving as the last shreds of the nightmare faded with her breath on the wind. The world around her slowly came into focus, her senses overwhelmed by unfamiliar details. She lay on her back, enveloped in warmth, the sensation so foreign after days of chills and exhaustion that it almost alarmed her.  

Above her, a patch of sky peeked through a hole in the ceiling of the tepee. The canvas, stretched taut over wooden poles, swayed gently in rhythm with the night’s breeze. Smoke from a central fire curled upward in soft, lazy pillows, escaping into the starlit sky. The stars themselves winked down at her, distant and serene, their light shimmering faintly through the drifting fog.  

The pop and crackle of a fire filled her ears, its sound strangely soothing. She turned her head, her cheek brushing against the soft fur of the animal hide beneath her. Her gaze settled on the flames, their golden light commands flickering shadows to dance on the walls. Tentatively, she reached a hand toward the warmth, only to pull back as the sensation of heat kissed her fingertips.  

Her body shivered, the fever still clinging to her like an unwelcome guest, but here, she felt safe. She exhaled, her breath shaking, the smoky scent of the fire mixing with something earthy and herbal—medicines, perhaps.  

As she shifted beneath the heavy layers of hides draped over her, a new awareness settled in. She was naked, her usual clothing gone, replaced by the comfort of the carefully tanned and supple hides. The rough, sweaty fabric of her work shirt and the denim of her jeans soaked in horse musk were nowhere to be found. Her skin, once sticky and chilled, now felt clean, though her limbs ached with fatigue.  

Sitting up slowly, she clutched a fur-lined robe to her chest, its texture soft but slightly coarse against her fingertips. Her gaze landed on the far side of the tepee, where two figures spoke in hushed tones.  

“H-hello?” Kate ventured, voice rasping from disuse. The sound startled even herself, carrying a tremor of vulnerability.  

Both figures turned toward her, their expressions registering surprise. Kate studied them through the wavering firelight. The older woman’s face was a map of deep lines and weathered wisdom, her dark eyes steady and knowing. Layers of beads hung around her neck, and leather wraps adorned her braids, which fell over her shoulders like rivers of silver and black.  

Beside her sat a younger woman, her features strikingly smooth and proud, framed by a fur-lined hood that rested gracefully over her shoulders. Her braids, neatly tucked away, hinted at a careful precision that contrasted with the older woman’s well-worn regality.  

Kate clutched the robe tighter, her heart pounding as the silence stretched between them. But in their eyes, she saw no malice—only curiosity and a quiet patience that urged her to breathe.

The elder woman murmured something to the younger, her tone steady and commanding yet kind. The younger woman nodded, stepping toward the entrance. She turned back briefly, offering Kate a warm smile. 

“Híhanne wašté,” she said softly, voice lilting with a musical cadence. Then she slipped into the darkness beyond the tepee’s threshold, leaving Kate alone with the elder.  

Kate blinked, her fevered mind struggling to process the events. Her gaze followed the elder woman’s deliberate movements as she worked, gathering bundles of dried herbs and binding them with twine. The firelight danced across the weathered planes of her face, illuminating every line and crease—a testament to years of wisdom and service.  

The elder woman held the bundle over the fire until the dry leaves crackled and ignited, thin trails of smoke curling upward. She approached Kate with a quiet reverence, waving the fragrant smoke in sweeping arcs over her body. Her lips moved in a prayer, the words flowing in a language Kate didn’t recognize, but their cadence was soothing, like a lullaby carried on the wind.  

“W-who are you? Where am I? Where’s my…where’s Arthur?” Kate’s voice wavered, panic rising as her fever-clouded mind spun with unanswered questions.  

The woman paused her ritual, her dark eyes flicked to the chain around her neck, carrying the gold rings. Before meeting Kate’s with a calm authority. She placed a warm, weathered hand on Kate’s bare shoulder, its touch grounding. “Hush, now. It is well. Your Arthur is with Chief Rains Fall. You are in Wapiti, among the people. You are safe.” Her words as gentle as the hand that guided Kate back down onto the buffalo hide bed.  

Kate hesitated but allowed herself to be eased back. Her muscles were weak, trembling under the weight of her illness. When the woman reached to pull the blankets from her figure, Kate clutched them tightly to her chest, her breath quickening. “Where are my clothes?”  

The elder woman made a soft clicking sound with her tongue, a hint of exasperation flashing in her otherwise serene expression. “Bad medicine,” she said firmly. “No clothes are best to let the fever out. Do not trouble yourself with modesty, child. It is my sacred duty to honor the body as I tend to it.”  

Kate swallowed, hesitantly loosening her grip on the blankets. Her chest rose and fell in labored breaths as the woman peeled the layers away, exposing her frail form. Kate’s gaze flicked down to herself, and a sigh escaped her lips. Her frame was thinner than she remembered, her skin pale and fragile under the fire’s glow.  

“You must be White Dove,” she whispered, breaking the silence.  

The medicine woman gave a slight nod, her expression softening as she ran the smoking sage in a deliberate trail down Kate’s abdomen. The warmth of the smoke hovered close to her skin, the scent earthy and cleansing.  

“I am,” White Dove replied, low and melodic, carrying the weight of her title and the assurance of her skill. “And you, Kate, are stronger than you believe. Your body knows what it must do. Lie still.”  

Kate obeyed, letting her gaze wander the interior of the medicine woman’s lodge. The space was humble, yet rich with years of careful practice. Wooden racks lined the edges of the room, their beams laden with bundles of dried plants and herbs, their colors faded but their purpose unmistakable. The faint, earthy aroma of sage, sweetgrass, and juniper mingled with the smoky air, creating a scent both grounding and otherworldly. 

In the center, the small fire crackled softly, its embers glowing beneath a tripod that held a weathered clay pot that Kate had not noticed before. The fire’s glow gently illuminated the hide walls, where faint etchings of symbols seemed to come alive in the fragile light.  

Animal hides draped over sturdy wooden beams served as insulation against the outside cold, their textures varying from soft rabbit fur to the coarse leather of bison. Scattered tools and supplies spoke of a life deeply intertwined with the land—bone knives for cutting, stone scrapers for tanning, and hollowed gourds for carrying water. 

A low bench made from a flat stone sat near the fire, its surface worn smooth from years of use as both a workspace and an altar for preparation. Kate could see the remnants of the sage White Dove had just prepared. 

Nearby, a simple yet meticulous arrangement of feathers, beads, and small carvings hinted at spiritual rituals, each item placed with care as though they held the stories of generations past. The tepee felt alive, not just with the heat of the fire but with the wisdom and traditions that pulsed within its walls.

So much of it reminded Kate of River—his people, his way of life. It all felt so distant, a world left behind in the shadow of time. Yet here it was, as vivid as if she’d never left it. She half expected River himself to step through the tent flaps, his familiar smile breaking through the haze, carrying the scent of fresh pine and the blood of a successful hunt. 

As if time were nothing more than a serpent devouring its tail. A cycle with no end, always bringing her back to where she began.  

White Dove’s voice broke the spell of memory as she ended her prayer, setting the smoldering sage bundle aside with deliberate care. “Your body tells me many stories,” she murmured, her thin, weathered finger tracing the faint scar on Kate’s side. The mark was old, yet it burned in Kate’s mind with the clarity of its origin—the arrow that had pierced her nearly a decade ago. 

The scar that set everything in her fragile world to motion.  

“You carry a great strength,” White Dove said softly, her eyes meeting Kate’s with quiet intensity. “It will serve you well for what’s to come.” 

With a groan, she rose to her feet, shuffling to her rack of herbs. She crushed some leaves with practiced precision, the aroma rising as she poured steaming water from the clay pot into a small clay cup. Turning, she offered it to Kate. “Drink this.”  

Kate sat up slowly, holding the animal hides over her breast so they would not pool at her waist. She took the cup, bringing it to her lips and inhaling its earthy, bitter scent. The first sip burned her tongue, and she quickly set it down on the packed earth to cool. 

“Thank you…for all this,” she murmured, glancing at White Dove with hesitant gratitude. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble. I just need to rest, really.”  

The older woman scoffed, a short, knowing laugh. “Rest?” She waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll need far more than that.”  

Kate frowned, her voice tinged with protest. “It’s just a bit of weak blood. I’ve…had a hard couple of weeks, that’s all.” She picked up the cup again, blowing on the steaming surface before sipping cautiously.  

“Weak blood,” White Dove echoed, mimicking Kate’s words with an exaggerated accent and a chuckle. “Is that what the tosi tivo are calling it?”  

Kate blinked, the unfamiliar phrase catching her off guard. “I’m sorry—what does that mean?”  

“It is Comanche,” her tone patient but amused, “for white people.”  

“Comanche?” Kate repeated, tilting her head. The revelation sent a flicker of surprise through her. “I… I didn’t know there were Comanche here. I thought Rains Fall’s people were Lakota.”  

The elder woman raised a brow as she swept the stone workbench clear and began grinding fresh herbs into a fragrant paste. “There are many different people here,” she explained. “But we are more than just tribes. We are a family, bound by something stronger than blood. Do you understand?”  

Kate nodded slowly, the words resonating with her deeply. River had been like that, drawing in lost souls from all over—those whose tribes had been scattered, those who had nowhere else to go.  

“I was saved by one of the Lakota,” Kate admitted quietly, her voice dipping with the weight of memory. “A long time ago. He taught me his language, the way of his people.”  

White Dove glanced at her, the lines around her eyes softening. “Then you understand,” she said simply, her voice carrying the wisdom of one who had seen many lives cross her path. 

Kate’s gaze dropped to the cup in her hands, the rich, earthy scent of the tea curling into her nostrils as she sipped. “I owe him everything,” she murmured, voice distant. “He found me when I didn’t even know who I was anymore. Gave me purpose when I thought I had none left. I wouldn’t be here today without him.”  

White Dove tilted her head, her sharp eyes studying Kate with quiet intensity. “River,” she said after a moment of contemplation, her tone soft and reverent, as though the name itself carried a sacred weight. 

Confusion and surprise washed over Kate’s features immediately, “h-how did you…” 

“The way you speak of him… I can feel his spirit lingers with you, like a light that never fades.”  

Kate swallowed a mouthful of tea, trying to free the lump in her throat that was making it difficult to speak. “Sometimes I feel that too,” she admitted. “It’s like… he still lends me strength when I need it most. But it’s been years. He’s gone.” Her voice faltered, a raw edge of grief cutting through her words.  

White Dove approached, the earth beneath her soft footfalls barely whispering. She knelt beside Kate, her hands gentle yet firm as they rested on Kate’s shoulders. “Gone in body, yes,” she said with a grounding force. “But not in spirit. River walks with you, child. He is in the wind that moves the grass, the fire that warms your skin. And here,” she added, placing a hand lightly over Kate’s heart, “he is always here.”  

“I miss him so much,” Kate’s eyes welled with tears she hadn’t realized she was holding back, the elder’s words wrapping around her like a balm. She nodded, barely managing a whisper. “I just wish I had the strength back then to save him.”  

White Dove’s gaze softened further, her expression both knowing and kind. “And yet he has left you with a gift,” she said, her hand moving from Kate’s heart to lightly press against her abdomen.  

Kate’s breath caught, her eyebrows furrowed. “A gift?”  

The elder woman’s smile deepened, her voice soft. “A piece of the Great Spirit’s plan, one that River will surely guide.”  

Kate’s hand flew instinctively to her stomach, the air catching in her throat. “I…” Her voice faltered, her mind grasping for logic amidst the swirling emotions. “I–I don’t understand. That’s not… no, that’s not possible.”  

"You’ve endured so much, child. He sees it, he knows. He has never truly left you. And though you’ve faced countless losses, you now carry something precious—a new life growing within you."  

A new life.  

The words echoed, reverberating like a bell in the quiet chamber of her thoughts. Her heart pounded as if trying to catch up with the revelation, and the clay cup she had been holding slipped from her fingers, landing softly on the earth below. A rush of emotions surged through her—hope, joy, disbelief, and an undercurrent of fear.  

Her mind raced to Arthur, his rough-edged voice filling her memory as she recalled their quiet talks about dreams of the future. Children. A family. She had crushed it then, before those dreams could take root in his heart. Claiming her body incapable of such things, her voice trembling with the conviction of a woman who had been resigned to a cruel fate.  

And now?  

Oh, God. She was going to have his baby.  

Kate’s chest tightened as the enormity of it settled in. She was going to be a mother again, and Arthur Morgan—a man caught between his own war with the world and his heart—was going to be a father again.  

“Do not fear it,” White Dove murmured, her hand warm and steady on Kate’s arm. “This child is a sign of strength. Just as you have endured, so will they. River’s spirit watches over you both, guiding you toward what is meant to be.”  

Kate met the elder’s eyes, finding a depth of calm that eased the storm within her. “H-how can you be so sure?” she whispered, her voice trembling with doubt. “It’s too early… there are no signs.”  

“No signs?” White Dove chuckled softly, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “The fever and sickness say otherwise. A mother’s body tells stories long before the mind catches on. And the man who brought you here, his ways are not those of a settled life. But perhaps this news will steady his wild heart.”  

Kate’s lips quivered, her exhaustion returning in waves as she slumped back against the hides beneath her. Her hand drifted to her stomach again, resting there as if to ground herself. Memories of a vivid dream, one that had lingered deep in her heart for weeks, re-surfaced. It’s meaning was suddenly clear.  

Two heartbeats, one body. 

“If only it were that simple,” she murmured, heavy with weariness and hope.  

Arthur had made his choices, ones that had led them both to the edge of ruin. She loved him with every fractured piece of her soul, but this—this changed everything. Would the promise of a new life be enough to pull him away from the shadows of his past? Would it finally give him the courage to leave it all behind?  

They had barely spoken of the events that had brought them to this point, with Arthur keeping much of their shared losses buried deep. He carried the weight of so many burdens, and though Kate longed to ease his load, the storm of worry and fragile hope in her own heart waged a relentless battle, pulling her in opposing directions.

But this game of tug-o-war on her soul will not stop her child, Arthur Morgan’s child, from growing in her belly.

Kate closed her eyes as warm tears spilled down her cheeks like gentle streams, cradling the fragile hope that had been placed in her hands. Despite the uncertainty that loomed like a shadow in her heart, she could not wait to share the news with Arthur.

“Sleep now, all is well.” White Dove whispered calmly. 

In sleep, he sang to her, his voice like a low and steady river, carrying her to places untouched by pain. In dreams, he came to her, his shadow softened by the golden light of a future yet to be written. That voice—gravelly and tender—called to her across the distance, whispering her name like a prayer meant only for her ears.  

And as she drifted deeper into slumber, the veil of the present began to lift, revealing a vision of what could be. 

A quiet life stretched before her, simple and unshaken. She saw their child, laughter ringing like wind-chimes in the summer breeze, their small hands reaching for the strength and love that only their father could provide.  

Arthur held them to his chest, his face softened with peace. With happiness. 

The edges of the dream blurred into a warm haze, but its heart remained vivid. A sanctuary where love thrived, untainted by the blood and dust of the paths they had walked. Here, in this fragile hope, she found their burdens were lifted and replaced by the weight of joy.  

And so, in dreams, she would find him, not as he was but as he could be—a man reborn by the light of their love, carrying their child toward a future shaped by something greater than fate.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur stood where the streams spilled into the river, where two currents became one. The waters laughed over the stones together, twisted through ravines together, and plunged down the cliffs of Donner Falls as one force. From this height, he could see Bacchus Bridge stretching across the horizon, its iron skeleton stark against the sky. And he could hear the mournful wail of a train whistle cutting through the valley below.  

Salmon darted through the clear waters, their pink and green bodies a fleeting blur against the clear expanse of blue. They swam downstream, migrating toward the ocean to grow and mature—a journey long and perilous. For a moment, as the clouds reflected on the tumbling surface, it seemed as though the fish swam through the sky itself, weightless and free.  

One fish caught his eye, a lone swimmer defying the current. Against the tide of its kind, it fought to return to the place it was born, battling the relentless push of water. Arthur watched as it struggled, its small body twisting with determination, before finally surrendering to the pull of the current. Drifting downstream with the others, pulled ever closer to the unknown. The inevitable.  

Like the salmon, it is the same when a man loves a woman. To love her is to fight the current, a struggle both thrilling and exhausting. But when it takes hold, there is no stopping it—no argument strong enough to resist it. Women, like the streams, could be gentle one moment, soothing a man’s spirit, and the next, they could drag him through white water, testing every ounce of his strength.

“Ready to head back, Mr. Morgan?” Rains Fall’s calm voice broke through Arthur’s thoughts. Turning, he saw the elder already mounted on his horse, waiting patiently to return to Wapiti.  

Since arriving at the reservation two days prior, Arthur had buried himself in tasks and chores, anything to repay the kindness shown to him and Kate—and anything to keep his mind from wandering to darker places. Hard work left little room for thoughts of the gang, of Dutch and Hosea, of Kate’s worsening illness. Or his own failings, the ones that had led them all here.  

Kate had been battling a relentless fever, resting under White Dove’s gentle care. The healer’s hands tended to her every need, offering what comfort she could. That’s why Arthur and Rains Fall were out here, gathering ginseng, yarrow, and sage for her collection of medicinal herbs. Every small effort felt like a desperate attempt to atone for what he did.  

Arthur mounted Belle with practiced ease and gave a nod. “Sure,” he said evenly, adjusting the reins. “Lead the way.”  

They rode in silence for a while, the sound of the rushing river beside them filling the spaces between hoofbeats. Arthur let his gaze linger on the landscape, but his thoughts were elsewhere, turning like restless leaves in the wind.  

“You’ve been awfully quiet these past few days, my friend,” Rains Fall said at last, voice deep and clear. It was less a question and more an observation.  

Arthur tightened his grip on the reins, grateful the elder couldn’t see his face. “Just got a lot on my mind,” he replied flatly, though he regretted the curtness of his tone. There was something in Rains Fall’s calm presence that reminded him of Hosea—the patience, the quiet wisdom.  

“Forgive me for prying,” Rains Fall continued, undeterred. “But you strike me as a man at war with himself.”  

Arthur sighed, knowing it was pointless to hide from someone as attuned to the human spirit as Rains Fall. “I’m not used to things bein’…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Out of my control, I guess.”  

A soft chuckle reached his ears, rich with the weight of years and understanding. “From the moment you are born, you have no control. You can’t choose your parents any more than you can choose your death—unless you’re desperate enough to end it yourself. The only choices you have are to love someone, to be kind, and to make this brutally short stint on earth as worthwhile as you can.”  

Arthur’s gaze dropped to Belle’s mane, his voice forlorn. “I reckon it’s far too late for all that.”  

Rains Fall’s words struck a chord deep in Arthur’s heart. His whole life felt like a series of choices made for him, never by him. Lyle had stolen his freedoms before he was old enough to even talk, and Dutch had stripped away any illusion of control—not just in the physical sense, but emotionally too. Arthur had never truly recognized himself, never understood who he was beyond Dutch’s right hand, his sword, and his shield.  

Who was he behind the savagery? Behind the bloodshed? Behind the beast of a man he’d become?  

Arthur couldn’t fathom what it meant to be a person—he’d never been one. His purpose had always been pain, fear, and weaponry. He wasn’t a man; he was a tool, a pet trained to serve.  

And yet, he desired violently. He desired an end to it all, a chance to be better, to become the man Kate saw in him. That vision of himself seemed impossibly distant, but it clawed at him nonetheless, leaving scars on his soul. He wasn’t supposed to need like this, wasn’t supposed to crave someone so deeply it hurt. But he did, and it made him sick.  

Because wanting something made you weak. It meant you were at the mercy of something else. And Arthur knew all too well how the world had a cruel habit of leaving him empty-handed.  

“You’re caught between the man you’re supposed to be and the man you truly are,” Rains Fall said, calm and understanding, as if he had plucked the words straight from Arthur’s thoughts. “Your wife does not strike me as the kind of woman to be unaware of that fact.”  

Arthur let out a small chuckle despite himself. How easily this man seemed to read him and Kate, like the pages of an open book. She’d been trying to guide him to a better path since the day they’d met, steadfast and rooted in her devotion.  

“She’s far too good for someone like me,” Arthur admitted, heavy with regret. “I worry ‘bout what’s gonna happen to her—to us,” he corrected himself, “after all this is said and done.” His thoughts wandered to the cold, chilling unknown that loomed ahead.  

As they approached the gravelly path leading back to Wapiti, the savory scent of roasting meat mingled with the fresh aroma of herbs, carried on the crisp evening air. The familiar smells grounded him for a moment, but the edge in his chest lingered.  

Rains Fall reined in his horse at the threshold, turning to Arthur with a quiet smile that held the wisdom of countless years. “Do not borrow grief from the future, Mr. Morgan. To become spring, one must accept the risk of winter. There will be hurt and hardships, but the wildflowers will always bloom after the thaw.”  

Arthur held Rains Fall’s gaze, the words settling in his mind like seeds in fertile soil. He nodded slowly, though the ache in his heart remained. Perhaps, there might still be wildflowers waiting for him after all.  

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate was roused from her sleep by the aching growl of her empty stomach, the pangs of hunger sharpened by the tantalizing aroma of meat roasting over an open fire. The scent was rich and smoky, stirring her senses more effectively than any alarm. 

She shifted under the warm weight of the animal hide blankets, bracing for the familiar pull of exhaustion to drag her fevered body back down. But to her surprise, she felt a marked difference—her fever had broken, and the rest had returned a measure of strength to her limbs.  

White Dove and her gentle assistant, Halona, had cared for her tirelessly. Day and night, they tended to her every need, reading her body’s cues with practiced intuition. Kate had grown fond of the two women, whose quiet kindness eased her discomfort in more ways than one. Their efforts had made the tepee a sanctuary of warmth and healing.  

The news of her pregnancy still lingered fresh in her mind, a secret she clutched close to her heart. She’d asked White Dove and Halona not to share it with Arthur, eager to savor the joy of telling him herself when the moment felt right. The women exchanged knowing smiles and readily agreed, leaving Kate to relish the anticipation of sharing her happiness when her body and spirit were ready.  

Carefully, she rose from the bed, the lingering weakness in her muscles reminding her to move slowly. Touching the rings against her breast, she rubbed them between her fingers tracing their tiny halos. She slipped on a long tunic that brushed her knees, the soft fabric comforting against her skin. Over it, she wrapped herself in an antelope robe, its heavy warmth almost swallowing her slender frame. Finally, she pulled on a pair of knee high moccasins, their soft leather cool against her feet.  

As she stepped outside, the evening air enveloped her. It was crisp and biting, carrying with it the clean, invigorating scent of pine and earth. The sky above was a masterpiece, streaked with hues of pink and blue that filtered through the tall pines, painting the world in serene beauty.  

Kate inhaled deeply, letting the chill air fill her lungs, refreshing her after the days spent confined inside. It cleared her mind and steadied her heart. Despite the gnawing hunger in her stomach, her thoughts weren’t on food.  

She needed to find Arthur. She missed him terribly, and her heart raced with anticipation. Her secret warmed her like the robe around her shoulders, and she longed for the moment she could share it with him—alone, just the two of them under the vast expanse of the painted sky. The moon and the stars as their only witness. 

Kate made her way toward the central fire, where the tribal members gathered to fill their plates and cut portions of meat from the animal roasting over the flames. The savory scent of the meal mixed with the crackling of the fire, creating an atmosphere of warmth and fellowship. Her eyes scanned the group until they landed on a familiar silhouette outlined by the glow of the flames.  

A smile tugged at her lips. There he was. Like herself, he was wrapped in animal skins, blending seamlessly with the people around him. A large sheep hide was draped over his broad shoulders like a cloak, the white fur soft and thick, resembling a ball of cotton drifting through the night air. He wore sturdy moccasins similar to hers, their thick soles a perfect defense against the biting chill of Ambarino.  

Her gaze caught on his old gambler's hat, now adorned with a new feather charm, its soft plumage swaying gently in the breeze. It was likely a gift from one of the people or something he had traded for during his endless efforts to repay their kindness. The sight of him like this—fitting in so effortlessly—warmed her heart. 

Arthur had a way of slipping into their world as though he’d always belonged, like a lonesome buck searching for his herd and finding a place among them.  

Beside him stood Eagle Flies, engaged in what appeared to be a lighthearted conversation with her cowboy. As Kate drew closer, the sound of the young man’s laughter reached her, a warm and genuine sound that made her smile grow wider.  

Eagle Flies noticed her first. His keen eyes lit with recognition, and a small smile played across his lips. With a subtle nod, he clasped Arthur’s arm in a gesture of brotherhood, one that spoke volumes about the bond they had formed in their time together. Then, without a word, he turned and departed.  

Kate placed a hand on his shoulder, and Arthur turned to her, his features lighting with surprise. Without hesitation, he set his plate of meat on the nearest surface and framed her face in his warm, calloused hands.  

"My sweet girl," he murmured, his familiar rough timbre washing over her, making her knees weak with adoration. "What’re you doin’ up? You feelin’ alright?"  

His questions came rapid-fire as he checked her face and body for any lingering signs of illness, his thumb brushing gently along her pallid cheek. Which was now turning a shade of pink under his gaze. The tenderness in his touch stood in stark contrast to the hardened exterior he usually wore.  

“I feel wonderful,” she assured him, carrying a smile she couldn’t suppress. “Better than I’ve felt in weeks.”  

She saw a flicker of guilt pass across his handsome face at her choice of words, a shadow of self-reproach he couldn’t quite hide. “Thank you, Arthur.”  

“For what, darlin’?” he asked, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer. His piercing blue eyes searched hers, as if trying to unravel the depth of her gratitude.  

Kate reached up to stroke his rugged cheek, her thumb gliding along the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard, thick and overdue for a shave. “For bringing me here, for protecting me. For standing by me while I recovered.”  

Arthur smiled, that bashful, boyish smile she loved—the one he reserved for moments like these when her praise left him flustered. “I’d do it all again,” he admitted softly. “Though I hope I won’t have to.”  

Pulling her into his chest, he sighed, a sound heavy with relief and affection. “Hated seein’ you in pain like that,” he confessed. “Damn sight nearly broke me.”  

Kate pressed her face into his chest, mumbling against the warmth of his shirt, “I’m well, Arthur. More than well.” She inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar mix of smoke, pine, and musk that clung to him.  

Arthur reached for his abandoned plate and held it out to her. “Think you can try and eat some?”  

Kate nodded, accepting the small portion of meat and vegetables with gratitude. As she took her first bite, Arthur filled another plate for himself, sitting beside her by the fire. 

For the first time in days, the world felt steady again.

Together, they joined the others, settling onto overturned logs as the flames flickered and danced, casting dark shadows over the gathering. The warmth of the fire fought against the creeping chill of nightfall, and a comfortable silence lingered as plates emptied and bellies filled. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon, leaving the sky painted in deep blues and blacks. Stars began to wink into existence, their light glittering faintly above the treetops.  

As the reservation quieted, a soft melody began to rise from the gathered people. One voice turned into two, then three, until a full chorus swelled, singing in their native tongue. The song carried through the air like a living thing, winding between the fire’s glow and the cold night, weaving a tapestry of history and culture. 

It felt like the land itself was joining in, harmonizing with the crackle of the flames and the rustling trees. The occasional howl of a wolf, or cry from an elk joining the orchestra in its own language.  

Arthur leaned closer to Kate, his breath warm against her cool cheek as he murmured, “Think you can translate what they’re chanting?”  

Kate stifled a chuckle, shaking her head. “It’s not chanting, Arthur—they’re singing. And don’t ever let them hear you call it that.”  

A grin tugged at his lips. “Fair enough.”  

Kate paused, tilting her head to better catch the song. Closing her eyes, her brow furrowed as she picked through the lyrics, trying to parse the Lakota words amidst the many other languages blending together. 

“It’s a song about reclaiming identity,” she finally said softly. “About standing together as a community, returning to nature, and rejecting the way society’s trying to change them.”  

Arthur nodded thoughtfully, his gaze returning to the fire. He didn’t need to say anything more—his silence held a reverence for the moment, the music wrapping around him as snugly as the sheep-hide cloak draped over his shoulders.  

After a moment, Kate began to hum quietly, her voice low and melodic as it slipped seamlessly into their rhythm. She translated the lyrics into English as she sang, her voice soft enough for Arthur’s ears alone. He listened, mesmerized by the emotion in her words, the way they made the distant and unfamiliar feel close and deeply human.  

The song, in both languages, seemed to bind them to the world around them—a moment of peace and connection amid the chaos of their lives. For the first time in what felt like forever, Arthur let himself simply be still, soaking in the beauty of the night and the voice of the woman at his side.

I might be more like an animal, than you would have thought at first. Your only conviction was that I would have to choose.

I’ll be running with the animals soon. Always swore by the same remedy, to battle feelings with thought, but lately there’s a change in me. The words don’t really do.

Humans rip open so easily, like paper heads in the rain. I won’t be my own enemy. The skull no longer fools this body.

I’ll be running with the animals soon. Into everlasting now, I’ll unfold mysеlf. Slowly, parts of me.

I’m herе to be more like an animal.

I’m here to fight more like an animal.

I’m here to eat more like an animal.

I’m here to bite more like an animal.

I’m here to move more like an animal.

I’m here to hunt more like an animal.

I’m here to rest more like an animal.

I’m here to play more like an animal.

I’m herе to be more like an animal.

As the singing came to an end, the gathering began to disperse. Hunters, elders, mothers, warriors, and children alike offered their farewells, their voices softer now as they drifted back to the comfort of their lodges. The fire crackled quietly in the stillness, its embers glowing as if reluctant to fade. 

Kate and Arthur remained seated on the overturned log, her head resting gently against his broad shoulder. Their fingers intertwined, a silent promise exchanged in the cool night air.  

Arthur stared into the flames, his eyes distant and shadowed, lost in thoughts that weighed heavy on his soul. Kate watched him intently, her heart aching for the grief and guilt etched into his face. It was the same expression she had seen during their night in Annesburg, when uncertainty and frustration had driven him to the edge of what any man could bear.  

She remembered how she had held him that night, cradling his trembling frame as his soft tears soaked her chest in the silence. She had whispered soothing words until the storm within him subsided, giving way to the steady rhythm of his breathing. But even then, she knew it wasn’t enough. There was still so much he carried, a burden too great for one person alone.  

Her free hand glided over her belly, where the first stirrings of life had begun to take root. Over the next nine months, she would be swollen with his child—a little piece of them both, growing steadily within her. The thought of meeting this tiny person, of holding them and nurturing them, filled her with a sense of purpose she hadn’t known she needed.  

Kate was certain the news of the baby would ease some of Arthur’s pain, offering him a beacon of hope amid his struggles. She could already imagine the spark it would ignite in him, a reason to fight for something brighter. To become the man she knew he could be—the man their child deserved.  

“Ready to turn in, my love?” she asked softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to pull him back to the present.  

Arthur turned to meet her gaze, his tired blue eyes searching hers for a moment before he nodded silently. “Which lodge is yours?” she asked, glancing across the rows of tepees glowing softly with firelight.  

His voice was low, tinged with exhaustion and a rare vulnerability. “Y’sure you wanna stay with me, darlin’? You can still sleep in White Dove’s tent if you’d rather. I won’t be upset.”  

Kate raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he’d suggested something completely absurd. “You kiddin’ me? Quit being silly, old man. I want to stay with you.”  

A small, tired grin spread across Arthur’s face as he stood from the log with a quiet sigh, extending his hand to her. Kate rose, slipping her arm around his waist, leaning into the warmth of his embrace.  

“Besides,” she added with a soft smile, “I always have the sweetest dreams when I sleep next to you.”  

Arthur’s grin widened just a touch, and he pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head before leading her toward his lodge. Together, they walked through the quiet encampment, the stars above a silent witness to their love and the promise of a brighter future. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur’s lodge sat quietly on the edge of the reservation, a modest sanctuary tucked away from the hum of the reservation. Originally used for storing extra furs, dried meat, and other supplies, it had been generously cleared out by the people to provide him with a warm, sheltered space. Though Arthur had offered to set up his own camp, they insisted he stay somewhere better protected from the cold Ambarino winds.  

Holding the flap open, Arthur gestured for Kate to duck inside. She stepped through, marveling at how surprisingly inviting the small space was.  

In the center, a humble fire glowed softly, its embers casting a flickering warmth that filled the room. Arthur knelt by the ashes, adding a handful of wood chips and buffalo dung. A skill taught to him by the tribe to revive the flames and keep them burning through the night. As the fire grew stronger, Kate let her eyes wander around the lodge.  

Against the canvas walls, crates and boxes were neatly arranged, serving both as storage and structural support. Arthur’s cot lay near the fire, piled high with animal hides that promised warmth on even the coldest nights. His saddlebag, folded and topped with rabbit pelts, served as a makeshift pillow. A few hides draped over smaller crates created a reclined space she imagined he used for writing in his journal late at night.  

Kate shrugged off her antelope robe and draped it over the crates, adding to the cozy arrangement. Kneeling on the fur-covered bedroll, she slipped off her moccasins and stretched out on her stomach near the fire. The heat from the flames quickly seeped into her skin, chasing away the chill of the night.  

Arthur watched her with a small smile, his gaze soft and full of affection. Tossing his sheep-hide cloak into a corner, he tugged off his moccasins and left them by the entrance. Slowly, he slid off his suspenders, setting them aside with care. His gambler’s hat followed, then his leather shirt, revealing the expanse of sandy hair and gentle lines that contoured his torso. Now dressed in only his trousers, he settled beside her, reclining against the fur-covered crates.  

Kate waited until he was comfortable before shuffling forward on her stomach, her head coming to rest in his lap. Her cheek pressed against his firm thigh, and she sighed, feeling more at peace than she had in weeks.  

For a long moment, they sat in silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound between them. Their eyes met, the unspoken desire swirling in their shared gaze enough to make her heart race. Arthur’s hand found its way to her head, his fingers slipping through her hair. He began to massage her scalp, untangling knots with a care that belied his rugged exterior.  

Kate melted under his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she opened them again, unable to look away from his face. Her fingers moved to his chest, tracing the defined lines of muscle with feather-light strokes. She twirled the coarse hair between her fingertips, letting the texture ground her in the moment.  

Neither broke their gaze as their hands explored, gentle and reverent. His thumb brushed against her temple while her palm flattened against his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath her touch. Their connection in the firelit room felt electric yet soothing, a sanctuary of their own making, where words were unnecessary, and their love spoke through every touch. 

She suddenly sat up, leaning her weight on her wrist as it rested against the warmth of his thigh. Her lips found him with a desperation that felt like they had never stopped searching for him. Arthur responded in kind, his kiss deepening as his hands roamed over her back, feeling the heat of the flames and pulling her closer, if that was even possible. 

As he opened his mouth to let out a shuddering sigh, Kate seized the opportunity, her tongue darting against his, earning a ragged, breathy moan, from the depths of his chest. They explored each other’s mouths as if it was the first time, foreign yet familiar. As if they had been apart for years, and by some miracle, fate had reunited them. 

Arthur tugged at her arm, pulling her closer, gripping her thigh with the other hand, urging her to straddle his lap. She didn’t hesitate. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a fire in their wake. But before the heat could consume her completely, she stopped him with a question that had been burning inside her for days.

“Arthur?” Her voice was soft, trying to steady the rush of emotions that clouded her thoughts, the bliss in her body making her words feel weightless. 

“Hmm?” came his low, breathy reply, muffled against the hollow of her neck.

Her hand gently cupped his face, guiding him to look at her. “Why did you call me that…?” She hesitated, but only briefly. “Back when we arrived at the reservation?” Her mind has replayed his words endlessly since then. My wife. 

Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion, before the memory clicked. “My wife?” 

Kate nodded, her gaze enduring. 

A small, sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his lips, flushed red from her kisses. “Oh... I didn’t think you’d remember that,” he stammered, tinged with a nervous tenderness. “I dunno, guess it just felt... right.” 

Her heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words sinking in. “Do you think of me as your wife, Arthur?” The question came out more serious than she had intended, but it had to be asked. 

He straightened, his gaze locking with hers, no hesitation this time. “I… Yes. Yes, I do see you as my wife.” His voice was steady now, firm. He meant every word of it.

Kate’s eyes widened, the reflection of the fire flickering in her eyes like molten gold. She didn’t speak for a long moment, the gravity of his words settling in her chest. “You really mean that?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it carried with it a world of emotion, meant only for him. His heart.

Arthur’s hands found her neck, cupping it gently as he wiped away the tears she hadn’t even realized were there. “I do. You’re mine, Kate. Mine and mine alone. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my days, if you’ll have me.” His voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability of the words choking him. He looked away, his emotions threatening to spill out. “I know this isn’t the life I promised you, honey. But I’ll save up, buy you a pretty ring...” He took her hand and rubbed at the empty space where a ring would sit. “I’ll make you my wife, for real.” 

Kate smiled through the rush of emotions that swept over her, and her warmth filled his heart in ways nothing this world ever could. Oh, how he adored her. In that moment he wished he were the wind, so he could kiss every inch of her skin and weave through her hair. To carry her scent with him forever. Through this life, and the next. 

Her smile faltered for a brief moment, a shadow crossing her features. “And what about the gang? Everything you fought for, everything you helped them build?” 

Arthur’s eyes darkened for a moment, as the weight of his past settled back into his chest. The future he had imagined with her could not exist within the chaos of his reputation, the people he had once called family. A deep sigh escaped him, a cold gust slipping in through the cracks of his thoughts, licking at the flames of the inevitable. 

The fish fighting against the current, must let go of the past and turn towards the future. 

“I’ll still help ‘em while I can,” he began slowly, “but I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about the future… about you.” His gaze softened, locking onto hers like she was the anchor keeping him grounded. “You’re my future, Kate.” His words were sure, steady. “I gotta put you first. If these last two days taught me anything, it’s that I want you far away from all this.” He stressed the final words with a firmness that left no room for doubt. “And we’ll never look back.” 

Kate’s smile returned, but her eyes held a flicker of something more. Reaching around her neck, she slipped a silver chain over her head, two gold rings glinting in the firelight as she held them up. Their glow danced between their faces, the light kissing them with a quiet oath.

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized the rings—worn and well-loved, relics from his father figure’s hands. His eyes softened, and he swallowed back a sob. “Hosea…” His voice cracked, the memories of his father’s wisdom and love choking him. 

“Hosea made me promise to give these to you when the moment felt right.” Kate explained, cupping his palm and letting their gentle weight cradle in his hand as she slipped the chain off. 

“Always one step ahead... He knew things were changin’, even before it all fell apart.” Arthur admired the rings, recalling memories of Hosea and Bessie’s devotion. 

Kate nodded, her smile tinged with sorrow. “He said you’d know what to do… take me far away, and never look back.” She echoed his words, like a vow that hung between them, delicate and sacred.

Arthur sniffed, trying to keep the emotions at bay. “Christ, I’m gonna miss him.”

Kate’s fingers carefully plucked one of the larger rings from his palm, then gently took his left hand in hers. “I am too, Arthur. But… sometimes things change for the better. My whole world changed when I met you.” She slid the ring onto his finger with quiet reverence. 

Arthur watched her with a tenderness that made his heart ache. He kissed her knuckles, his lips soft and full of longing. “Reckon you’ve changed me for the better... and yet…” He hesitated, a familiar doubt creeping in. “Yet I keep making a mess of myself.”

With a free hand, she cupped his cheek, guiding his gaze back to her. “Maybe we just need something worth fighting for.”

Arthur’s laugh was breathless, full of love. “My darling Kate, you’re the reason I fight.”

Her eyes locked onto his, fierce and full of determination. “Perhaps a reason… for both of us.” 

As he slid the ring over her finger, past the knuckle, it settled against her skin with a commitment that both felt deep in their souls. And then, softly, like a secret whispered just for them, Kate spoke the words that stole the breath from his lungs. 

“I’m pregnant, Arthur.” 

The words seemed to echo in the air, a divine truth. To speak them aloud felt like releasing a beautiful secret into the world. The weight of her confession hit him like a wave, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at her, his breath catching in his throat. His pulse thundered in his ears. 

“You’re…” The words failed him, as his heart leapt in his chest. Everything suddenly clicked—the protectiveness, the need to shield her. “Oh, my girl…” His voice trembled with emotion, and he pulled her into his arms, clutching her close. “How—how is that possible? I thought—”

Kate’s fingers found his lips, silencing him. “I don’t exactly know how, but I know it’s there. I’ve known for some time, but I just couldn’t let myself believe it was true.” Her forehead pressed against his, and new tears, joyful and free, fell down their cheeks. “I knew our love would bloom into something wonderful.” 

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only them, and the life they would build together. Arthur cradled her neck gently, pulling her close as they embraced, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. A familiar chill of unease crept into his mind, but he banished it before it could take root. Nothing—not fear, not doubt—would steal this moment of joy from him.

And yet, beneath the elation, a quiet resolve began to form. The countdown had already started ticking in the back of his mind. Nine months—no, likely less. He couldn’t let her bring their child into the world while they were still trapped in the chaos of the gang’s life. The decision came as naturally as breathing: he would do whatever it took to make things right and ensure she had a safe place to welcome their baby into the world.

Despite the timing, despite his failures, despite everything, the news of this child—his child—growing within Kate filled him with a hope he hadn’t felt in years. A new purpose ignited within him, fierce and unshakable.

“Kate…” he murmured, his voice raw with wonder and disbelief. His thumb swept across her cheek, brushing away the tears that glistened like firelit jewels. “You’re carrying our child.” The words felt foreign, surreal, almost more of a question than a statement, as if he needed to hear it again to believe it was real.

Kate’s lips curled into a soft, radiant smile, the same smile that had captivated him from the start. “Yes, Arthur,” she whispered, her voice steady and full of love.

“You’re going to be a father again.”

AN: I had SO much fun writing this chapter, everything from Eagle Flies and Rains Fall to Kate's pregnancy reveal. Ugh I just love them so much and it was so nice to finally get the secret out there. There are a lot of emotions going on between them right now and I want to be able to explore that in more intimacy. This chapter would've been over 20k words if I included the sex scene I initially wrote...but like I said before it will be in its own chapter! This gives me more time to tinker with it, as well as add to it without worrying abt the WC.

Thank you all so much for the support, and for reading this work that has become something so dear to me. I love all of you, and endlessly appreciate all the love and comments and feedback! 💗💗💗

[unbeleevable]

Never knew I squeaked

Good Lord

Learning new things about me everyday 🙏

( tags for on this one 😭)

[st4rbwrry]

𝒟𝑅𝐼𝐹𝒯𝐼𝒩’ 𝒩 𝒦𝐼𝒮𝒮𝐼𝒩’.

✧｡˚ eren’s over just being your best friend.

𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 8.7k fem!reader, lowercase intended, girly girl reader, friends who rlly like each other, smoking, drifting, fluffy scenes, eren is super soft for reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, car festivities, kissing, neck biting, bits of roughness, multiple orgasms + overstimulation, choking, ass hits, cunnilingus, daddy kink, pet names ex. ꒰ baby, pretty, luv. ꒱ , praise, sub/dom, thicq!reader, goofy loving cutesy shit, minors do not interact! comments & reblogs are appreciated.

"i'm outside."

why is that text always terrifying to receive? it's the quickest way to make your heart fall to your ass in milliseconds. you can't help but roll your eyes and suck your teeth because he's too early, or maybe you were too late. it's only nine thirty so you're confused why he's here already. dropping the puffy makeup brush in your hand, you stand up from your brightly lit royal vanity with intricate carvings in the pearl-toned wood. slipping your painted white toes into a pair of hot pink teddy bear slides to make your way out of your bedroom and towards the front door for this asshole. 

eren gets smacked in the face with your prettiness the minute you open your door, smelling like marshmallows and looking like a fucking bratz doll. your beauty stuns him every time. the six-foot-three man before you rests his weight against the wall on the outside, one arm stretched above as he leans over you with a wicked smile on his deadly gorgeous face. he's wearing a white graphic tee with pink graffiti spray painted on reading killer alongside a lavender nissan 350z. it's old merch connie was testing for his line. he also makes eren's shirts for his auto shop. 

eren's also attired in black slim jeans and beat up 550 new balances, his signature racing shoes. his silver chain on his neck dangling as he kisses your forehead, the move so slick. you've noticed he liked to touch you a lot, give little indications of affection. kissing your hand, your cheek, your face overall. he grabbed your ass a lot, and it's so excessive you have to give him a hard swat and a death glare to actually make him stop. 

"hello, eren," the way you say it has annoyance laced in it. turning away from him and walking away with that salacious sway your hips have. eren tongues his inner cheek, chuckling as he enters your home and shuts the door. he forgets how quick you walk, literally speed walking to your room since by the time he gets there you're already back on your powdered white tufted ottoman doing your makeup. riiverdance by beyoncé plays softly from the small speaker you kept on your windowsill so the music travels better. 

"damn, i can't get no kiss? you fussy with me already." eren remarks, looking below him to see the fluffy black cat brushing up against his leg, scooping her up with one hand and petting her as he takes a seat on your bed. 

"no. . aht aht! outside clothes, off the bed!" you're snapping your fingers at him as if he's your cat, eren swiftly raising his ass off your bed, blinking slow. 

"where am i supposed to sit, woman?" 

"the floor like always."

"tryna get cat hair on my shit," eren sucks his teeth, sinking down to the ground and groaning when your cat scrambles to get out of his hold, never liked being touched for long periods of time. 

"you literally decided to pick her up knowing you're wearing white. that's your fault." 

you were right but he couldn't resist holding her. that's his daughter. he's not giving you the satisfaction of being right though. manspreading, eren cocks his head to the side to watch you closely. you can see his entire reflection in your mirror, quickly glancing his way and ignoring the way he slowly licks his lips and knocks his legs in and out, unbeknownst to you, to chill his dick. 

"so fuckin' gorgeous," eren smiles, those bright white teeth making you wanna fold immediately. eren loved watching you do your makeup. eyes softening for you. he found it so mesmerizing. you surely didn't need it but it made you happy so it makes him happy. "you wearin' that white on your waterline like i like. that jus' f'me?"

you pucker your lips. "mhm, nah. i just like it. i do nothing for your gratification."

"ouch," eren holds his tatted hand to his chest, shock overcoming his features. "keep hurtin' my feelings like that 'n your ass won't have a ride tonight. or no food."

that last line alarms you more than anything. one thing you didn't play about, and he knows this especially. . . is your hunger. you honestly haven't eaten much all day. working a shift at the hospital and only having a salad on your break wasn't filling at all. you all talked in your group chat about how saturday's the perfect day to go drifting tonight and grab some chinese at your favorite restaurant in town. your check hadn't hit yet but eren being him since he likes you so damn much offered to pay for you. you declined, as usual, but he didn't give a fuck about what you said, you were coming either way. to be honest, he missed your little sweet ass. a lot. you've been working mostly overnight shifts, being a SPT wasn't for the weak. and he's been busy at the shop fixing and selling cars. your days apart, aside from texting and facetiming made him want to be in your presence. he felt complete with you. you had to know that.

"if you gonna play with me about my food then ima just head to bed right now and starve," you basically threaten him. eren hated when you don't eat enough, makes dumb jokes about how you'll 'lose those thick ass hips of yours.' the boy will make it his mission to grab you something quick. he's your food and weed dealer. also your personal chauffeur, absolutely loving when you're his passenger princess.

"don't be fuckin’ dramatic, brat. i'm playin'. you know i got you," he stands back to his feet to come by you, pressing his midsection to your backside, where you can also feel the outline of his dick, trying your best to ignore the way it makes your face heat up. teasingly, he starts sliding his warm hands over your shoulders and down to your waist. cautiously, you eye him, having a hot wave of panic hit you when he begins tickling your left side. your most sensitive side, mind you. you screech and twist your body into a curling position trying to escape his attack. 

"eren! get the fuck off me, bro!" he's laughing hard at your attempt to twist and yank away from his grasp, screeching and biting his arm which he flinches from and moves away. 

“oww, fuckin’ gremlin,” he hisses dramatically, as if you’d stabbed him. “next time smile when you see me at that fuckin' door. gimme a 'hey, daddy' with it, too. it'll make my dick jump."

"your dick jumps for me enough."

eren’s eyes meets yours in the reflection of your vanity mirror. he shrugs nonchalantly, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“well,” he begins, dragging the word out as he takes a step closer to you again. “you wanna see it?” 

you roll your eyes, his voice dropping lower, becoming more intense as he continues. “know you wanna see it again.” 

“says who?” you raise your brow, testing him. 

by again, he means accidentally when he was showering at your place and forgot to grab his boxers before he went inside your bathroom, thinking you were sleep when you were in fact up reading on your phone. wanting to laugh at the memory of him turning red in the face and trying his best to shield his dick with his hands. making a snide comment about how badly you wanted to stare at it. 

“you heard me,” he states simply, his gaze never leaving yours in the mirror. he's leaning directly over you, forehead nearly touching yours. his presence is overwhelming, filling the small room with his raw masculinity. this is a regular thing by the way. his constant teasing. waiting for you to let up. 

“okay, daddy,” you grin mischievously.

“mhm,” he kisses his teeth, and at the same moment his phone vibrates in his pocket. eren fishes for it, checking a text from connie. 

"connie’s outside, you done?” 

“you rushing me now? i don’t like this rennie tonight,” you tsk, shaking your finger like a disappointment mother. standing to your feet, you brush out the curls in your head by running your fingertips through them. 

you do look so pretty tonight. wearing an oversized pink greenbay packers jersey with a flowy white mini skirt, eren watching as you enter your walk in closet to fish for some white socks to scrunch at your ankle, and the same pair of sneakers he currently wore. my little twin. 

“sorry, i’ll be on my best behavior.” 

you smile, standing on your tiptoes and pinching his cheek, eren liking the view a bit too much, trying to fight the urge to grab your hips and pull you close. “such a good boy. now, let’s go!” 

“wait, i want a kiss, wife,” eren smiled, trying to lean in before you pull away and shove your hand in his face. 

“leave me alone, pervert!” 

connie’s goal tonight was to show off the enhancements he added to his neon green scion frs, the car humming outside of your house when you go to say hello to him. he mentions that he’s going to swing by to pick up his girlfriend before he meets the two of you there. she didn’t live too far so he was able to make it before you two did, eren always having to make a mental note not to drive like a dickhead when you’re in the car. knowing your nerves are bad. they’ve gotten slightly better though since you’re with him all the time. 

you loved drift meet up’s because it was a free car show to see all the cool ass cars, most of the models popular in japan. men and women in groups drinking and bumping music as they interact. it’s illegal as hell where you live but sometimes everyone’s able to get away with it if they don’t act too much like jackasses. this spot was mostly secluded from open roads or police. 

eren walks alongside you, his arm loosely draped around your shoulders as you both make your way  to the forefront where cars currently span in action. his car wasn’t parked too far, planning on performing a show himself in a little. the adrenaline pumping through the crowd as drivers send their vehicles skidding around corners and spinning donuts in the dirt your favorite, and his. connie arrives not too long after, eren going up to talk to him before you’re locked in, excited for him. 

“i need to teach you how to drift one of these days. i gotta see your pretty ass behind a nissan 240sx or sum,” he says, pulling you closer into his side so you can hear him over the noise. 

“that’s specific,” you laugh, looking up at him while chewing your gum, rocking with him. 

eren grins down at you, his hand tightening slightly around your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. “what can i say? i have a type.” 

“you sure do,” your voice trails off, focused on connie’s loud car screeching and swinging before the crowd around you. cheers vibrating your ears like a concert. the feeling like a movie. you don’t notice that eren keeps his eyes on you the whole time, admiring you as you jump, clap, and scream from excitement. pulling your phone out to record your friend. 

removing yourself from his arm, you notice the cars currently in the circle beginning to depart and make way for others. “con’s!”

eren shakes his head as he watches you bolt towards connie’s car, jumping up and down like a kid, bending low to give him a high five. “that was fucking awesome!” 

“yeah, fuck with me!” he continues to slap his palm with yours. you look over to his girlfriend in the passenger seat, reaching over to twinkle fingers. 

“hey girly!” luna smiles, tucking her long dark hair behind her ear since it blew everywhere from the wind. 

“hiii!” you giggle. 

“shit was good, i taught you well,” eren approaches, their heavy hands interacting, shaking before snapping their fingers. 

“yea, whatever. you always want full credit, asshole,” connie sucks his teeth. 

“oh my god, we should totally drift each other!” luna suggests. connie whips his head in her direction. 

“wha—who said you driving my car?” connie blinks, flabbergasted. 

luna goes to hit his arm playfully. “cabrona, i meant she can get in the car with eren and yall do yall lil’ thingy thing.” 

“oooo, yayyy!” you approve instantly, clapping your hands together and turning to eren with puppy eyes. “oh, please?! i wanna shotgun!” 

“be my guest, sweetheart. but don’t try to hang your head out the window again like a damn dog, or else,” his voice drops low, a warning lacing his words as he gives you a knowing look.

“mhm, i make no promises,” you wink, racing towards his car. 

connie laughs at eren’s strained face, his friend knowing deep down he loved it. connie knew a lot you didn’t know. like the fact that eren’s madly in love with you, and has been ever since freshman year of high school. it’s not secret to anyone, really.  as eren approaches his parked car you bounced impatiently beside, he opens the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb in before walking over to the driver's seat. the interior of his black r34 gtr is pristine, everything from the leather seats to the carbon fiber accents shining under the sunlight. you loved when he picked you up just to take you for a ride. he works on cars practically all day given he owns an auto shop, detailing and adding enhancements being his daily thing.

he’s getting his hands dirty and his mind fried from mechanical work. he customized this car to make it his own, his name written in japanese on the right corner of front window, a front spoiler splitter, apexi gt specthe which makes his exhaust sound like fucking gunshots, which terrifies you. on top of detailing the body of the car with giant dragons painted silver on either side of the vehicle. standing out to the crowd uniquely. 

eren makes his way inside of the vehicle, big hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts his legs in his seat, your eyes locking there momentarily before he inserts his key into the ignition, firing up the extremely loud engine. an anxious smile shows on your face once you see everyone yelling over the power of his car, having been in it a million times, you still hated the sound, triggering your sensory overload. but, you loved the thrill. swallowing, you turn to him, balling up his shirt on his hip to grab his attention. 

“promise me you’ll be safe,” you look up at him, worried.

a soft smile tugs at his lips as he sees the concern in your eyes. he reaches out, brushing a stray curl of hair from your face with his thumb. “don't worry, princess. i'll take care of both you and my baby here.” 

“i’m trusting you,” you whisper, biting your lip. “don’t hit anybody, i don’t need you going to jail. and please don’t hit connie, because he will kill you if you fuck up his car.” 

eren smirks, his hand dropping from your face to gently cradle the back of your neck. his grip is firm yet tender. “now why’d i risk traumatizing my girl like that?” 

you suck your teeth and pull away from him, crossing your arms. he only sets his hand on your thigh now, and you let him. “aren’t you going to start driving?” 

eren laughs heartily, his hand tightening around your thigh as he does. he revs the engine, feeling the power beneath them rumble in anticipation. his eyes flash dangerously in the dim light of the cars. “promise me something, too?” 

“what?”

“we’ll finish playing mommy and daddy when we get home?” he grins. 

“oh please, you know you can’t handle me,” you tease. such a bad habit you two have. joking too damn much. but by this point, from his end especially, you’re aware none of it is a joke. 

eren raised a brow, feeling threatened. “oh, i can’t?” 

“nope. and you’re too scared to admit it,” you taunt, fluttering a kiss in his direction. 

“mhm,” eren kisses his teeth, he gives a curt nod, as if making a mental note. “ima hold you to that.” 

“drive the damn car, eren.” 

ignoring the warmth in your chest from his flirting, he finally shifts the car into gear. with a roar of the engine, he accelerates onto the street, leaving behind a cloud of smoke. malice at the palace by BONES is bumping through the stereo system as eren expertly maneuvers his car around the road, each turn and drift executed with precision. the sound of the engine reverberating through the car sends a rush of adrenaline through him. you hated to admit how fucking good he looked right now, your hand gripping onto his bicep as you giggle each time he executes a perfect drift, tires screeching, watching connie’s car across from his spin around each other. part of him hopes to impress you. and clearly he has by the huge smile on your face. you’re like a kid in a candy shop, eyes lit up. 

“i’m doing it!” you yell, eren watching as you climb up on your seat, skirt rising from the wind blowing, your ass hanging out making his eyes go wide. 

“꒰♡꒱, sit your ass down.”

“woo!” it’s too late, now you’re banging the palm of your hand on the outside of the door, staring at others who hollered back at you, your curls flying in the wind. the people screaming and cheering louder the more you raised your upper body outside of the window, being sure to secure yourself. eren’s hand instinctively clutch onto your ankle. 

“goddamit,” he groans, but couldn’t help the feeling in his heart from your pure laughter. you’re enjoying yourself, that makes him happy. but your safety is important. given that, he slows down just enough so that it feels safe for you not to jolt and fall out of the car. despite your reckless act, he couldn’t help but marvel at how fearless you truly are.

connie’s car slides vertically next to eren’s, taking your chance to reach out and graze your fingers with luna’s as she leans her body outside of the window like you do, the two of you screaming like fans of your favorite superstar. the adrenaline pumping through your veins is exhilarating. 

eren’s hitting on the brakes, causing the tires to yell and the car to skid sideways. with a swift move of his foot on the gas pedal, eren launches his car into a perfect 360-degree spin. the car gracefully arcs around its axis before smoothly coming back onto its original trajectory, all done. the world outside blurs into a whirlwind of colors and shapes as you scream into the wind, lowering your body to take your seat in your original position. 

“that was sooo fun!” the sound you make is the cutest, giggling and bouncing your legs, full of energy now. he adores the glint in your eyes, but he also couldn’t hide the upset on his face. 

“i’m sure. next time, listen to me when i say don’t hang your body halfway out the fucking car. you’ve never done that before, what if you flew out?” the sudden change in his tone takes you aback. 

“i can take care of myself,” you retort, your defiant words making him clench his jaw. 

“not saying you can’t. i’m telling you don’t be so fuckin’ reckless,” his hand moves from the steering wheel to smooth down his face, keeping himself calm, despite the current situation being anything but serene. he doesn’t mean to ruin your mood. surely didn’t want to cause an argument. he just needed you to understand where he was coming from. “don’t die trying to show off.” 

“don’t die trying to protect me.” 

“꒰♡꒱ . . cut that big girl shit, seriously.” 

“aren’t we meeting our friends to get food? let’s go.” 

connie did mention they’d be grabbing food right after, eren clenching his jaw and pulling his attention away from you. he tries not to keep you at these events for too long, sometimes things get rowdy and guns are drawn and he wouldn’t allow either of you to be around that. shifting his car back into drive, he pulls away from the scene to trail behind connie. you hated the current silence of the car, picking up your phone to distract yourself from any conversation. as you pull up next to your group, onyankopon popping up a minute after, eren kills the engine and opens his door with ease. he rounds the car, opening the door for you. you give a quiet ‘thanks’ before speed walking away to luna. eren sighs deeply, sucking his teeth and locking his car, pulling a puff bar from his pocket and leaning against his vehicle to calm himself for a minute. 

“you okay? you look sad?” luna frowns as she holds your hand, ready to cross the street to enter the chinese restaurant. 

you make an awkward expression, not really wanting to make it a big deal. “nothing, i’m just hungry! also kind of have a headache from the whiplash.” 

glancing beside you, you see eren approaching onyankopon, shoving his keys into his pocket while simultaneously colliding their hands for a handshake, hearing the small ‘yo, wassup’ from the pair before you turn your head away, luna pulling you along with her. the five of you find a booth inside of the almost empty restaurant given its close to closing, being one o’clock in the morning and all. you take the time to catch up with luna since she’s been busy with esthetician classes and try your best to avoid eren . . even if he’s sitting directly next to you. this act can only go for so long before the two of you catch glances repeatedly, still making little interactions with the group together if you had to. you didn’t want everyone knowing that you two had a small fight. was it really a fight? you were fine, at least that’s what you liked to tell yourself. 

time passes and onyankopon is the first to leave, mentioning he has to get up early for work and saying his goodbyes. that leaves luna and connie to cuddle up next to one another in the booth, your eyes studying the way his arm is draped around her shoulder while he listens intently on everything she says, bopping her nose with his finger as she giggles cutely. you smile faintly, looking down at the food you’re playing with at this point with your chopsticks. 

eren glances at you as he finishes his plate, a finger pressed to his temple as he leans his elbow on the table. you feel his glare, turning his way to see what he wanted. his eyes holding a certain intensity that only you seem to understand. “come take a ride with me.” 

you continue to fiddle with your chopsticks, swallowing air. “where are we going?” 

“i need to talk to you about something.” 

you’ve dreaded this. unsure of what was going to come from him when you two were alone. you’re not sure if he’s still mad about earlier, his reaction when luna brought up your car moment laced with irritation, like he wanted nothing to do with it. honestly, there was nothing more to talk about. he knows you don’t like confrontation, so you hoped he wouldn’t make an entire conversation about why he feels the way he does. a simple apology should’ve sufficed. the anxiety is pumping through you now, wanting to groan from his seriousness. one thing you’ve learned about eren was that he was big on communication. if something bothered him or he felt like certain things needed to be talked about, he’d take that chance to fix it. when he’s serious about something, it gave you goosebumps. 

his gaze lingers on yours, the flickering candlelight on the table casting an enchanting glow on his features. you swallow, nodding. “okay.” 

“we’re gonna go,” you grab the couples attention across the booth, connie and luna sitting up the moment you and eren stand. 

“awe, okay boo! it was nice seeing y’all,” luna waves to both of you. eren’s patting his pocket for his keys, pulling out his wallet to set cash on the table for the both of you. 

eren smiles. “you too, love. i’ll see you tomorrow, con.” 

“bet, see you. y’all be safe.” 

the car shifts into gear and pulls out onto the quiet street, the sound of heavy wind encasing the vehicle the only thing you could hear, blurring out the world. eren drove possibly fifteen minutes to a spot only the two of you go to. it’s secluded, parked under a giant tree in a grass field high on a hill that overlooked the city night. it’s surely a romantic destination. the two of you go here whenever you need to rant about life or just escape. it’s been your spot since high school. the slow melody of rnb fills the interior, creating an intimate atmosphere. the two of you sit for a moment, eren fishing for his puff bar to take a few passes before you finally say something. 

“can i?” you ask, voice an almost hushed whisper. gesturing towards the object. 

“yeah,” he’s handing it your way, clearing his throat before leaning back into his seat, smoothing both hands down his thighs before adjusting comfortably, closing his eyes momentarily. 

eren takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “lemme start by saying i’m not mad at you.” 

you blink, shifting your body so all of your attention is on him so he feels important. you tend to stare off into nothingness during these moments. 

“yes, are you stubborn as fuck and it pisses me off at times? absolutely. you know when it comes to you, shit like that makes me anxious. i have that urge to protect you, and it’s always been like that. so don’t think i’m being immature by wanting to care for your safety. i know you’re grown, and you carry yourself well. but sometimes i need for you to just listen when i get gut feelings about shit.” 

“i know, and i apologize,” you reply almost instantly, the thought being on your mind the entire dinner, but unable to let the words pass. “i do appreciate how you care for me. i was just having fun and didn’t want my mood to be ruined. it was dangerous, anything could’ve happened.” 

despite his uncertainty, there's no denying the sincerity in his gaze; a raw vulnerability that contrasts sharply against his usual confident demeanor. struggling to say what’s really on his mind at the moment. “you still have that bad habit of never wanting to be corrected.” 

“yeah,” you lower your head to your thighs, fiddling with the fabric of your skirt. “still working on it. i tend to be too aggressive when i want to be right.” 

“i’m glad you understand. but, that’s not what i wanted to talk to you about.” 

you look up. “what is it? did something happen?” 

eren takes another deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to reveal. his gaze never leaving yours as he prepares to lay his heart bare. “look . . i’m g’na be straightforward with you. i don’t need you to take this as something that has to be figured out immediately. i’ll give you the time and space you need to think on it if you’re feeling the opposite. but. .”

his cheeks flush slightly under your scrutinizing stare. it’s clear that whatever he's about to say is far from easy for him. he’s scaring you. “me and you, we been close since kids. i have love for you for life, but i need you to know that it’s been hard just being your friend. my emotions are consuming me, and being around you all the time is only making it more difficult. i see myself being with you, being in love with you. . for a long time now.” 

the confession hangs heavy in the air between you both; raw and vulnerable, yet undeniably true. his heart pounds loudly in his chest as he waits for your reaction, bracing himself for either acceptance or rejection. either way, he’d stand by what he felt. and if you didn’t feel the same, it would hurt, but he would respect your boundaries. you’re unsure why you’re not . . surprised? he’s always been extremely affectionate with you, much more than a best friend should be. wasn’t necessarily fond of seeing you with other men or hearing about who you slept with. you told each other everything. had sleepovers. shared beds, and at times when you fell asleep before him, he’d brush a finger along your cheek and admired your beauty. 

"my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewife that gets to stay home and do whatever you want. shit, start your own business. i'll pay for it all. i'll take care of you. i want you to myself, always. never wanna leave you. wanna get your name tatted on me. kiss you all day. cuddle, watch your favorite movies and shitty supernatural tv shows. run you bubble baths 'n fuck you real good every time i come home. buy you that wolf gray kia k5 with pink interior you've been wantin'. send you on vacations. buy you all the sanrio plushies in the fuckin' world. want you to be mine, ꒰♡꒱."

" eren. . . "

"i'll even learn how to cook for you, princess. 'n you know i'm bad as fuck at that shit," eren chuckles, raking his fingers through your hair. you laugh with him, tears in your eyes. "but i'll learn for you so i can always make you some authentic udon ramen or birria tacos, all that good shit you love. cause you're my girl 'n you deserve it all."

eren's hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer to him. his fingers trace small circles on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. his touch is gentle yet possessive. a tangible manifestation of the love he's been harboring for you. each stroke of his fingertips against your body feels like an exploration, a journey into the depths of your being that only he has access to.

“talk to me,” he bites his lip, lips nearly brushing your own, unable to help the pure attraction towards you. it’s stronger than ever right now. 

“i feel the same way,” you lean in, moaning from his touch, his hands on you all the time, though somehow now they make you weaker. “i just didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

eren’s breath hitches, a combination of shock and relief consuming him. “why the fuck would you think that?” 

your shoulders shrug shyly. “i don’t know,” your voice drags quietly. “sometimes shit like that doesn’t work for everybody. and we have a great friendship. i didn’t want us being together to fuck up the vibe.” 

“we not everyone,” he states, brushing a curl from your pretty face. “and we act like we date anyways. wouldn’t be no different.”

you recepriocate the act, brushing a few brown strands of hair that fell in front of his face, locking eyes before your lips press against his in feverish kiss. his tongue parts your lips, exploring the warm cavern of your mouth with a passionate intensity. his hands roam freely over your body now, one tracing delicate patterns on your lower back while the other slips beneath your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin underneath. every touch is filled with desire and longing, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you. the heat in your face blows higher, as if the ache to kiss him was a distant dream. to finally taste him was something you hadn’t known you needed. both of your hearts are pounding in your chests, every beat echoing the intensity of your feelings for each other. 

“you have no idea,” he whispers huskily, pecking your lips. you moan, body melting into his touch. you could slip through his fingers like puddy, this center console blocking you. “how much i want you.” 

“show me then.” 

eren’s eyes darken with desire. his hands slide down to grip your ass, climbing over the console to reach for the recliner on your seat, your flushed face heating up from the close proximity, his hair brush along the apples of your cheek, his smell intoxicating. you giggle when he goes to remove the headrest of the chair, banging his hand into the seat so it’s completely flat and you’re resting on your back. eren hovers completely over you, bringing his body to the passenger side, squeaking when you feel his hardness brush against your clit, a clear indication of just how much he wants you. taking your lip between his teeth, he gives it a playful nip before trailing hot kisses down your neck, going to capture your lips in another hot kiss, rolling his hips into yours making you gasp. you trail your hands underneath his black shirt, hands sliding up his broad backside.

“i need you,” you whimper, knees disconnecting to spread yourself for him, scooting higher up the seat. your desperation makes his control slip further. 

“fuck,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire, tracing along the curve of your waist before dipping lower to tease at the hemline of your skirt. “you’re making it hard for me to keep my shit together.” 

“lick me up,” you whimper, pushing your hips down so your core presses against the bulge in his jeans, eren keeping down the moan in his throat, studying you. your thumbs slip into the band of your skirt, trying to indicate that you wanted them off. “please, m’dripping.”

“fuck,” he whispers again, this newfound sense of lust you had enrapturing him. “anything for you, baby.” 

his hands slip beneath your skirt to explore the softness of your thighs, smoothing over your ass as you raise your hips so it’s easier for him to pull off your skirt, his mouth watering at the bare sight of you wearing no panties. you’d slipped off your sneakers, the balls of your feet digging into his shoulder blades as he pushes you further up the chair for both of your comfortability, craning his neck between the plush of your heated thighs. he breathes in your scent, moaning into a kiss he places on your inner thigh. 

“c’mon—ah!” your breath is taken from you for your impatience, eren’s mouth circling around your clit for a quick feel before he’s lowering his tongue to taste all of you. locking his eyes with yours as you thread your fingers through his hair to push away, deciding to remove the hair tie from around your wrist to tie his hair onto the back of his head. 

the taste of you on his lips drives him wild, craving this for years on end. eren groans from the sweet taste you leave on his fat tongue, his breath fanning over your sensitive flesh sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. eren growls in approval at your submission, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer to his mouth, swallowing down your clit, sucking on your pussy to hear you make those pretty noises he’s only heard once in his life. accidentally, of course. maybe catching you fucking yourself coming up the stairs without your knowledge, wanting to surprise you with food while the two of you studied for finals. he’s always kept that to himself, knowing you’d be extremely embarrassed by it. of course, he didn’t know it’s because you couldn’t stop thinking about what he wore in p.e; a black deftones muscle tank he cut as a crop top with gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into a manbun with his skin glistening in sweat from the insane weather out. dark ink around his skin making your mind run rapid. 

he releases his mouth momentarily, popping off your clit lewdly to murmur, “you are fuckin’ drippin’.” 

your back arches into his embrace, craning your neck as you rock against his face, eren grinning wickedly at your muffled sound, his tongue delving deeper into your folds. he laps at your entrance, thriving for every drop. his hands move to spread your legs wider apart, giving him better access to feast on your needy cunt. you hum in ecstasy, the sensation from the metal ball of his tongue piercing flicking your clit, using it to tease and torment you. his dark eyes watching you like prey, squirming and gasping from every suck. 

“fuck, baby,” he moans. “you’re so sensitive.” 

his hands move to cradle your ass cheeks as he pushes your ass up to fuck his face better, pussy glistening under the moonlight. his tongue continues it’s relentless assault, curling and connecting his tongue with your aching cunt feverishly while suctioning his lips around your swollen clit. your hands stretch to grip onto the door handle, moaning when his hand goes to smack the back of your thigh. eren growls at your helpless moans, his tongue delving deeper into your slick folds, slithering inside of you to prep you. his hands pinning your legs wide allows him unrestricted access to your throbbing cunt.

“wet n’ pretty ass pussy, baby. so, so pretty. jus’ like you, right?” he groans against you, increasing the pressure on his tongue, thrusting it in and out of you rhythmically. his free hand moves to play with your clit, rolling the sensitive nub under his thumb as he devours your pussy. 

without waiting for a response, he resumes his ministrations, his tongue plunging back into your dripping cunny while one hand continues to toy with your clit. his actions intensify as he listens to your desperate whimpers. his tongue laps at your slit greedily, drinking down every drop of your sweetness, thumb working overtime on your clit, rubbing up and down mercilessly.

“stick your fingers in me,” you whine, the brokenness in your tone only making his dick harder. he’d rather shove his dick in you, but he wouldn’t deny what you pleaded for. 

eren chuckles darkly at your plea, and within a second, his ring and index fingers are slipping inside of you, eren curling them upwards, searching for that sweet spot deep within your pussy.

“like this?” he sputters against your clit, your juices encapsulating him. your inner thighs tremble from the switch up, biting your lip and nodding. “fuck you up real good? ‘till you cream on me?” 

“y-yesss, f-fuck,” your sobs overtake you, his tongue continuing it’s relentless assault on your sensitive bud, licking and sucking it into oblivion. eren hums in agreement, his fingers pumping in and out of your soaked cunt. he watches his fingers pump harder into your quivering cunt with furrowed brows, mumbling expletives to himself in fascination, your cunny squelching and sinking them in each time they threatened to pull out. 

“ima sink my dick in your shit, fuck. i’m too fucking hard for you,” he groans against your clit, pace quickening, the combination of his fingers fucking into you while his tongue circles around your clit pushing you closer to the edge.

“keep fucking me, baby. fuckin’ love your tongue.” 

eren loves your cries so much it’s hurting his dick bad, his fingers pumping harder into your twitching cunt, begging for you to cum. you’re drenching his fingers. he removes them when he notices your hand is cupping underneath his jaw, pulling his face in deeper and swaying your hips, the balled up expression on your face reading all he needed to know. you stretch your legs high, clamping your thighs shut and wrapping your arms underneath the curve of your knees to angle them towards your chest. eren licks his lips before sinking his tongue deep into you, thrusting his tongue like he’d use his dick.  

making a noise of approval, you grip onto his hair while maintaining your position, yanking his head back and forth, screaming as his face clashes with your pussy, tongue fucking you open until you finally cum. your tummy caves in, lifting your head to press into your knees as you catch your breath, streaming out praises of ‘yes, yes yes, baby,’ as he continues to fuck you on his tongue, uncaring of you drenching his nose and chin. 

while you take time to recuperate, eren’s leaning his head up to clean his face with the back of his hand, licking off the remainder as he reaches down to unbutton his jeans, slipping them down to his thighs and giving his dick a few slow strokes, the sight of it, thick and long, glistening with precum is enough to make anyone drool. eren holds onto it teasingly, keeping it just out of reach as he watches your reaction. “knew you wanted to see it again.” 

you cover your face. “shut up.”

with a lustful gleam in his eyes, he lines the throbbing tip against your wet slit, sliding it up and down to gather your arousal before he’s grabbing the back of your neck to look into your eyes, heavy body hovering over yours, trying his best not to lean all of his weight onto you. granted, that’s exactly what you wanted, to be suffocated under him. feel weak, submissive. 

“tell me you’re okay.” 

you nod, eyes slowly closing, unable to keep focus. “yes, m’okay. it’s okay.” 

the feeling of being sheathed within your tight pussy makes him shudder, removing his hand from your neck to balance his body by gripping onto either side of the leather seat after locking your legs flat. you reach for the recliner to level the seat up a little more, eren kissing your forehead. you drag your body lower so it’s easier for him to move, shivering from the full feeling he gives you, and that’s only half of him. 

“fuck,” he gasps, grinding into you slowly so you’ll adjust. you swivel your hips, teeth biting into your lip as you stare at the sharp cut of his jawline, emerald eyes clamped shut. “that’s it.” 

with each heavy thrust, eren can’t help the animalistic groans emitting from him, the deep baritone of his voice making your clit pulsate harder as he fucks himself deeper into you. your skin clapping as he pounds into you hard, hitting your spot and making you cry for him. he wheezes within the crevice of your neck, both of your moans colliding within the small enclosure, vibrating over the music flowing from his speakers. he’s fucking you faster with each thrust.

“s’so good, f-fuck,” the wind gets taken from you with every harsh pound, grunting beneath him and taking it all. he felt so fucking good, you couldn’t believe you waited this long just to let him fuck you. too many opportunities missed. for good and wrongs reasons though. 

“that’s it, you’re such a good girl,” his mouth gives you a chaste, sloppy kiss to your pouty lips. everything he does makes you want to cum. heavier and stronger than the last. he’s a fucking trip. 

“i’m your good girl?” your bottom lip is pulled into your mouth, teeth baring as you smile drunkenly. 

“ ‘course you are,” he kisses you again, prolonging it this time, your body slipping lower giving him the chance to fuck you even deeper, stretching you open and stuffing you full. you can feel him all in your tummy, your brows furrowed. “better than that. you’re my baby.” 

“i’m your baby?” the drag out of a whiny tone as you grip onto his chin to keep his eyes on yours has the man before you crumbling. 

eren practically whines from the way you speak to him, molding your frame into his seat from the strength he fucked you with, listening to your pussy cry for him. “you’re my baby.” 

“my pussy loves you,” you move with him, your tight cunt squeezing him, feeling that warmth build up in your stomach. 

“it does, huh. tell me how much, love.” 

“loves it so fucking much, daddy.” 

“that’s what i wanted to hear,” he hisses, groaning and fucking you faster, straightening his legs so he gets a get angle, hitting into you with all his weight. “oh god, baby. you feel so fuckin’ good.” 

“yeah, daddy?” you whimper, biting your lip. 

“yes, babydoll,” eren groans in agreement, cursing to himself as he slips his dick out, the two of you gasping from the disconnect, eren lifting himself from you. “bend over.”

you use the seat to turn yourself around, hiking yourself further up to give his big body space to settle behind you. you keep your thighs pressed together, shifting your ass back against him and arching your back low. you jump when he lands a heavy swat to your ass, hissing as his fingertips grip your flesh and bounce your ass back, mesmerized by how it moves. he draws his hips back, flexing his dick to make it jump into the right position to easily slide within your wet opening, the angle allowing him to hit deeper within your pussy than before. 

“unh, sshit,” eren moans, hands grabbing either side of your hips and tugs you back, your ass clapping amongst his toned abdomen. your forehead is connected with the seat, mouth agape as you feel the swell of him slip in and out of you, eyes scrolling to the back of your skull. 

“sshit, you’re so deep, ah!” 

his thrusts become more forceful, hitting even deeper within your pussy. with every stroke, he feels himself getting closer to release. eren growls, his canines grazing your skin as he leans in to bite your neck, your filthy whine only serving to heighten his arousal. he continues to thrust hard into you, each movement sending you both closer to breakage. 

“g’na cum, baby,” eren whimpers, rolling his waist into you, that pressure in his lower abdomen threatening to break. 

“noo, don’t cum yet,” you whine, shaking your head pleadingly. “n-not there yet.” 

“i won’t. won’t cum yet, baby,” he hisses in response. “wanna wait for daddy? so we can cum together?” 

“mmnh, wanna cum with you, baby,” your head nods drunkenly, sightly blurry. your body aches from the lack of space in the car, but it felt so good to be overpowered by him. drilling his dick into you harder. 

“take it f’me, ꒰♡꒱.” 

“i’m taking it, baby. for you.” 

“moan f’me,” his lips get closer to your ear, eren’s eyes squeezing tight, jaw wide as he fucks your pussy open. 

“m-moaning for you, babyy-ah!”

“fuck it back f’me, act like you wanna get fucked,” eren growls in pleasure, his thrusts continuing.

“i’ll fuck it for you, fuck it for you,” you’re straight up sobbing now, rolling your ass back to meet his rough strokes, dripping down your inner thighs. you’d never been fucked this good before in your life. could have possibly been the chemistry, or the longing for him. “ooo-mnmg, i feel it.” 

eren smirks, his hands moving to encircle your throat. his grip tightens slightly, cutting off your air supply, his clothed chest on your back and the coldness from his silver chain tickling your flesh. “eren, ima cum again. k-keep it there.” 

your body shudders beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing as you feel your orgasm breaks through you, pussy clenching tightly around his cock and whimpering vehemently in his face, sobbing from your inability to withhold your orgasm as well as the overwhelming way he fucked you. 

“ren,” you weep, reaching your hand behind yourself to try to push his hips away. but he doesn’t budge. eren grips your wrist to bend it still behind your back, slowing his movements the last motive. 

“you came without me, baby. bad girl,” he tightens his grip on your wrist, giving an open mouthed kissed over the side of your face. 

a small cry fell from your lips. "s-sorry. fuck, rennie . . please.”

"please, what?” he grits his teeth, the shortest hairs in front sticking to his forehead while the others threaten to fall loose from the small bun on the back of his head. the silver bracelets on his wrist clanking as he yanks you back to meet his aggressive thrusts. 

"please, eren—s-slow. i’m sensitive.” 

"that's not my name. what's my fuckin’ my name, ꒰♡꒱?" he grunts dominantly, pressing a harsh kiss to your temple, knowing what he needs.

"s-shit—daddy, please!” 

despite your pleas, he keeps fucking you mercilessly, his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy with ease. the sensation of being buried within you is too intoxicating for him to stop.

“jus’ a little more, baby. please take it a lil more,” his hand lands heavily on your ass, slowing his thrusts a bit for your sake and to feel your pussy constrict and beg to swallow him deeper as he shifts his hips slightly back, the tip of his dick kissing your entrance before he’s shoving it back in. circling his hips, ass flexing and becoming apart of you, pushing him towards another climax. 

“ooo, you fuckin’ me so good.” 

“ ‘cause it’s you, ‘cause i love you.” 

with a final powerful thrust, eren buries himself deep inside you. his cock twitches within your pussy, reaching in between to pull his dick out just in time, spurting his cum directly on your backside. your scream is deafening, covering your mouth and grinding your ass back as you cum again, unsure how that’s fucking possible. your body betrayed you, acting as if you’ve never been fucked in your whole life. but, truth be told, you’ve never gotten fucked that deep, or that good. 

“fuck!” eren’s tone is deep, stroking his dick while his other hand held your ass, thrusting into his hand to draw out every ounce of cum you wanted out of him. eren nearly collapses onto you, panting heavily as he recovers from his orgasm, slowly softening but knowing he can go another round. maybe at your house this time.

he kisses your neck softly. “are you okay, love?”

you nod, heaving, mouth dry. trying to regain your vision. “y-yeah. m’good.”

before rolling off of you, he gives you another kiss before he’s climbing back into the drivers seat to pull his pants back up, fishing for a wipe inside of his center console. 

you’re laying on your stomach now, cheek resting on your arms as you catch your breath, eren smiling down at you, kissing your spine as he wipes up his mess. “so pretty, baby.” 

that makes you weaker than anything he’d just done to you, hiding your face within your arms, still looking at his gorgeous face. he loves you so much, it’s always been clear. you hate how long it’s taken you to realize that. 

“i don’t have to think on it,” you suddenly say, eren staring intensely. your lips curve into a smile. “i know i love you too. for a while now.” 

the sparkle in his eyes makes your heart absolutely melt. “for real?”

you nod. “yeah. my dream is to get you that big ass loft you want with the tall glass windows that overlook the city. decorate it how you want, be my pretty fuckin housewif—”

“shut. the. fuck. up,” eren sounds out, smushing your lips together so you wouldn’t see the redness in his face. of course you’d mock him. you giggle into his mouth, squeaking when he goes to tickle your hip, eren laughing when you turn to hit his arm. 

“seriously, eren, i hate that shit!” 

“blah, blah, blah. love you too.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[reshinless]

kiss him to shut him up ☆

summary. literally the title.

director's note. greetings disciples, i feel as though I have been FLOPPING!! so have something I'm frfr proud of, happy 1.5k disciples!

pairings. albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, neuvillette, dainsleif, diluc, xiao, kinich

warnings. kissing n all that sap (yuck), fluff/suggestive

albedo is busy talking to you about his latest experiments, wrapping his jacket around you to ensure you don't get cold while resting at his lab. maybe he didn't notice the sneaky glances you set from his ocean eyes to his lips.

"and so... it basically recreated a somewhat circle of-" peck! ... "huh?"

he doesn't which feeling is more dominant; flushed or confused. yet he won't complain too much, displaying a simple smile as he slowly blinks with confusion, lovingly at least.

alhaitham happened to be ranting about a drunkard he spotted at the bar he and his friends (cyno, tighnari, & kaveh) went to while playing TCG, cyno's treat.

but when it truly sinks in that you had just kissed him, he wished you had kept it for a little longer. honestly was very close to leaning back in and letting it lead to something else, but he wouldn't let his pride down. deciding on giving a smirk, and poking one of your cheeks.

"what was that for, hmm?"

capitano is secretly someone who talks a ton when you get to know him despite his cold exterior, he's very fond of getting to tell you about his day, not being able to necessarily tell anyone (other than pierro)

before you could pull away from the simple peck on his crusted lips- it's almost immediate that he pulls you back in, giving you barely any time to breathe. simply leaning in more to the kiss, a hand behind your head grasping your hair to prevent you from getting away. it's alright, he loves a chase.

"trying to tease me, my love?" a deep, dark chuckle emits from his raspy throat as he runs a hand down your spine, from your scalp to your back, his eyes pierced you with love.

childe is sooo obviously cheeky about this, his teasing is inevitable when you're the one initiating this. yet he finds himself so stunned from the whole thing, he could feel the blush creep up from his neck already.

he was busy telling you about his previous adventures, trying to impress you and show off his strength, yet the only thing he was able to see from how you looked at him, you were set on your lips on his.

"a- ahh... ahem. feeling uhh... bold i see."

wriothesley is in the category of chasing your lips, trying to immediately reel you back into the peck you caused. pulling you in by your waist so you can't escape his touch. he can't say he wasn't used to your teasing, but this time he wanted you to taste your own medicine.

holding you close, until the very line of saliva that connected both of your lips finally broke apart, it was your turn to be flushed with embarrassment.

"oh, look who's all blushy now."

neuvillette is the one who's stunned this time, yet his hands trail back to yours before you can step away a little too far, his eyes telling you everything that you need to know.

"don't run away now, c'mon..."

his smile was soft and genuine, he felt himself trying to lean in further into your touch, so he could stay asleep forever in your arms. he lands another kiss on your lips. he loves to express how much he loves you, yet he doesn't know how to apply and put it out there.

dainsleif found himself leaning back in almost immediately, he didn't wanna run away from you giving him affection out of everything. his cold fingertips trailing up your nape, a soft grasp on your hair (a bold move indeed!)

"...is that the berry flavored chapstick i bought you last week?"

he loves to notice the little things on you, he knows you appreciate it as well, a loving smile, his eyes equally just as loving, staring at you, and only you.

diluc won't admit the deep-seated embarrassment that envelops him. at first, the warm flush spread from his neck to his cheeks, yet he could notice the very same for you. trying to play it cool, his arm that encircles your waist, drawing you in with a tender grip.

"i suppose this isn’t how I imagined our evening would go,"

his voice was strained, maybe his paperwork could wait till later.

kinich is one of those who pulls you in by the waist, yet finds himself almost too flushed to go through with it. not that he doesn't want to, he's scared that you wouldn't want the same, yet he finds himself leaning in the same way you were, just to taste you again.

"leaving me so soon, you're mean."

ajaw calls you both corny as he comes back from a little walk (with certified dog walker mualani). you could hear a "human! take me back to where we whence came!" (the springs nearby) as you let out a chuckle. a sigh from kinich, he'll have to train him to be a little nicer.

xiao can barely comprehend what you just did. his cheeks flushed with teal. and to give context, it's canon that xiao's blood/insides are all teal- so when he blushes, it's teal, I did a bit of research on this :P but think of it how you will!

he argued that you shouldn't go out tonight, he can handle himself! yet... maybe your little kiss was a little.. maybe very convincing.

"y- you think this will change my mind about all of this, huh?"

[auroralwriting]

spencer smut perhaps? he's all shy but the second your lips touch his he snaps?

guilty as sin

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (18+)

you think spencer's too shy to do anything, until he gets a taste of you

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut, dirty talk, p-in-v, wrap it before you tap it, sort of dom!spencer, multiple orgasms, spencer is whipped, season seven spencer is implied, soft and fluffy but also a smidgen kinky, spencer’s a gentleman, he’s still a nerd, begging, orgasm denial, he’s also a tease, light praise, it’s smut you get the gist

"Oh, come on? You're seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing happened with Lila Archer?" Emily laughed as she sipped on her beer.

It was a chilly autumn night. Your team had just returned home from a case a few hours prior. You were still dressed in your work clothes, like the rest of our colleagues. Somehow, you were convinced to go to the bar before it got too late into the evening. A sort of celebration that you all had caught the killer so quick with only two casualties. That was rare. Emily had even convinced Hotch to join you all. Since meeting Beth, he'd began to grow out of his shell. It was nice to see him happy again.

The liquor in all of your systems was enough to allow the silly conversations to flow with ease. Seeing as Emily and you had not been on the team when the Lila Archer stalking case was worked on, you had a fair amount of questions.

"You were with Lila Archer, alone, for hours on end," Emily took a sip of her drink as she continued her mini-rant. "and you didn't bang her?"

Derek emitted a slight chuckle, "Well, she did make out with him in the pool."

"The pool? Spence, you dog!" You gasped, quickly following it up with a laugh.

Deep down, this conversation bothered you. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had the biggest crush on Spencer. Or it could have been the way JJ was staring at you, no doubt profiling you. She was the only one who knew of your feelings for the genius. Of course, she was nothing but comforting and supportive. JJ was trying to catch a read on if she should end this conversation before it really got to you.

"I- She initiated it," Spencer weakly defended. "I just, well, kissed her back." The whole table erupted in oohs and laughs.

You kept your longings locked from the man. Kept in faded color, lowercase, locked away inside some secret vault you kept in your heart. It was better this way.

"You don't have it in you to do anything more, my man." Derek slapped Spencer's back. His words, meant to be supportive, just plain were not. "A man of honor, truth, justice, pat-"

"All right, I think we've all had enough to drink tonight." Hotch cut off Derek's drunken ramble. "Let's all make sure to call cabs home."

You grabbed your belongings, just a jacket, purse, and scarf, and stood up along with the rest of your friends. Everyone bid each other goodnight, small hugs passed along. Reaching in your purse, you went to grab the twenty you'd left, just in case. Your purse, however, was seemingly empty, besides a lipstick and your wallet. "Oh, shit." You muttered, having no way to pay for a ride home.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked, hearing your call of distress.

Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. "I don't have any cash to get home."

Spencer was quick to reply, "Oh, well why don't you just ride with me? Riding with another person is thirty to fifty percent more safe than being alone, especially while intoxicated. Uh, you can just spend the night, I know you live further away and I'm sure you're tired."

"Thanks, Spence. I'll pay you back," You offered as the two of you walked outside. You felt a chill run up your spine due to the cold, September air.

"It's no problem." Spencer nodded, reaching over to slightly tighten your scarf. The touch of his fingertips on your neck was enough to warm you up completely.

Penelope gave you one last squeeze as you hopped inside the cab with Spencer. The ride would only be fifteen minutes away from his apartment, which wasn't bad.

You stared out the window, watching as it fogged. You dragged your finger over the condensation, drawing yourself a little picture to keep occupied. Your eyes cast up on their own, deciding to focus on the reflection in the window. You were sure glad they did. Spencer was staring at you, unaware that you could see him. His stare sent another round of shivers down your spine.

Always the gentleman, Spencer helped you out of the car once you'd arrived to his apartment. It hit you that you'd actually never been to Spencer's apartment before. You wondered if it looked anything like you'd imagined.

And it was. Exactly as you'd imagined, actually. Dim, warm lights that gave a cozy feeling. He had a brown, leather couch with a green blanket over the top. Books were scattered all over the apartment, but it was done neatly. They were probably organized in a way that would only make sense to Spencer.

"Sorry it's such a mess," Spencer apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not at all," You replied. "I guess you've never seen my place."

Spencer hummed, "I haven't."

Being a good host, Spencer offered to make you some tea. You sat at his island while he poured some water in a kettle to heat up.

"So, you know you can be honest with me, right?" You decided to awkwardly start a conversation. The silence was just not doing it for you.

"Of course I know that," Spencer nodded. His back was turned to you as he prepped your mugs.

You shook off your nerves, "Did you actually not sleep with Lila Archer?"

Spencer turned around at your words. "I didn't sleep with Lila Archer." He confirmed. "If I did, you know Morgan wouldn't stop talking about it for the rest of our lives."

A small chuckle came from you. "He really wouldn't." You mused.

"Plus, she's, uh, not my type." Spencer boldly continued after a pause of silence.

"What is your type?" You asked curiously, heart increasing, a deep hope he said you were his type.

"I don't know." Spencer mumbled.

The kettle began to whistle, you could see Spencer's body physically relax at this. A distraction. He passed you the tea which you graciously thanked him for. The two of you sat in a comforting silence as you drank.

Spencer looked so gorgeous in this way. His hair was a bit disheveled, untamed from the long flight. His eyes held no signs of tiredness. Your case was in California. You'd left this morning. He must've also slept the whole way home. His brown locks mesmerized you. Oh, how you wanted to curl your fingers in them. Not to mention the ghost of stubble on his face. You imagined tracing your fingers over it softly, wishing to feel him shiver under your touch.

Maybe it was the remaining alcohol still in your system, or maybe pining after him wasn't doing it anymore. You don't know what came over you when you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his.

Spencer didn't move, you didn't move. It was an odd standoff. "Spence," You softly mumbled his name. You could see his eyes staring down- oh. At your lips. Somehow, you knew he wouldn't do it You watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of nerves.

It was like he couldn't speak. But you knew it the moment you locked eyes again. You'd know that look anywhere; desperation. It was probably gleaming in your eyes, too. You could definitely feel it.

A sudden wave of confidence crashed over you and you felt yourself pushing your lips against Spencer’s. It took him maybe a full second to process what was happening. His large hands came to grab your face, pressing you closer to him. The kiss felt like nothing you’d expected of Spencer. He took control over the situation quickly. He pushed against you hard, slipping his tongue between your slightly parted lips. It was messy, rough, yet filled with such genuine passion it was dizzying.

“Spence,” You pulled back breathlessly. His eyes were filled with something new, something more lustful.

He softly shushed you, hands still on your face, pulling you back in. It was slightly teeth-clashing, hot. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Spencer muttered between kisses, his voice a near whine. “Just couldn’t make the first move.”

Spencer pulled back, rushing around the counter to where you sat. He pushed apart your legs to stand in between them. His fingers grabbed your chin, thumb on it and his first finger under your chin. He gently forced your head to look up to him. His cheeks were flushed, and you assumed yours were a near identical reflection.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer whispered. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you anything, everything.”

“You, I just want you.”

That’s all it took for Spencer to kiss you again. your hands went around his neck to pull off his tie, your hands then moving to unbutton his dress shirt. His worked just as quickly to undo yours.

“Not here,” Spencer muttered, eyes falling to your half-bare chest. “My room’s down the hall.”

With Spencer’s hand in your own, you quickly ran to his bedroom, a soft giggle escaping your lips and how cliché this all felt. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. You leapt onto his bed, landing on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair that ended on the back of his head.

“Hi, boy genius.” You smiled, voice soft and warm. It reminded Spencer of a hot vanilla latte, or maybe something like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, warm, delicious.

“Hi, pretty girl.” Spencer replied, thumb rubbing sweetly over your cheek.

You both stared into each others eyes for a moment, taking in the delicacy of the intimate moment. Spencer slowly pushed his lips onto yours. It was the most gentle kiss of the evening, and it reminded you that Spencer wasn’t doing this because he felt like it. No, you were his type. Not Lila, you.

Spencer and you slowly discarded the rest of your clothing, allowing Spencer to slowly drag his fingers over your bare skin, admiring your beauty. “You’re almost as beautiful as Aphrodite,” he muttered. “I would say prettier, but the ancient Greek believed it would curse whomever was called more beautiful because Aphrodite wanted to remain the most beautiful.”

Even during moments like this, you loved Spencer’s rambles. Slowly, Spencer began to kiss all around your jaw, moving down your neck and to your chest. Your hands found his hair as you arched into him. He spent some time licking and sucking on your chest, loving the way you sounded for him, the way you pulled on his hair. He loved the smell of your skin, how soft it felt beneath his lips and tongue.

“Spencer,” you whined, pulling harder on his hair.

The man looked up to you, eyes gleaming as his mouth popped off you with a small pop. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need more,” you replied.

“Like what?” Spencer teased, slowly dragging his finger down your stomach. “Need more here?” He asked, playfully biting at your chest. “Or… here?” Spencer’s fingers trailed over your thigh, slowly moving from the inside to the out.

You groaned, “Oh, there! Please, there!”

Spencer also groaned in reply, “Didn’t take you as a begger,” he muttered. “but I love it.”

Slowly, Spencer moved his finger to your aching core. It slowly ran through your folds, causing you to moan loudly. “Spence,”

“Is this all for me?” Spencer cockily asked, referring to your wetness. You nodded quickly, pulling him down to kiss you once more. As he kissed you, he slid a finger inside, just to the first knuckle to gather some of your slick. He brought it back out and slowly began to circle your clit with it. Pulling back from the kiss, you became a mess of moans, whines, and breathy sounds. Spencer slowly kissed up and down your neck as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “This enough for you, baby?”

“Inside,” you stumble out. “Please, inside me.”

Spencer couldn’t help but give you exactly what you wanted. How could he when you begged so nicely for him? He brought that same finger back inside, plunging it until it reached his final knuckle. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, allowing you grace to adjust to the new object inside you.

“How’s that?” Spencer asked.

“Good, so good,” You babbled.

His finger multiplied and became two. They pumped in and out, adding slight curls to his fingers every now and again. His thumb went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it for added pleasure. “This what you wanted, sweet girl? This what you’ve imagined me doing to you?”

“Yes, yes!” You moaned.

Spencer smiled, “I’m not going to lie, I’ve imagined this moment for the last year.” In any other occasion, you would’ve became bashful at the declaration, but you were already too far gone with the alcohol and pleasure in your system.

It was then Spencer’s fingers hit your soft spot, causing your back to arch. “Oh, baby!” You cried out, grabbing onto the man above you and wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“There?” He asked.

“Oh, yes! There!” You answered quickly.

Spencer worked his magic, adding another finger as you stretched for him. It didn’t take long for your first orgasm to hit you like a sea of stars. Spencer softly shushed you, helping you relax.

“You okay?” Spencer smoothed your hair as he looked at you carefully.

You nodded, “Please, Spence. I want you.”

Spencer wasted no time lining himself up with you, allowing some of your slick to gather on his hard-on. He pushed in, causing you both to groan in unison.

“Oh my god,” he breathlessly said. “You’re so tight, oh my god. Baby, you feel so good.” His voice raised, slightly higher than normal as he resisted the urge to move until you said so.

“Move, move, please,” You told him. He wasted no time pushing his hips forward and backward, pulling your legs up around his hips once more.

He fit you so good, so right. Everything in that moment felt perfect, like he was made for you. You were made for him. It took Spencer less than a minute to be snapping his hips in record time. You felt like your eyes were going to roll back at the pleasure.

Spencer grabbed your chin the way he did earlier, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see your pretty eyes.”

Still reeling from your last orgasm, it took you no time to feel your climax approaching once more. “Spence, I need to come,”

“Not yet,” He groaned. “‘M almost there, baby. Hold on,” You felt a loud whine emit from your throat. The sound of it made Spencer’s dick throb, and you felt it. “Doing so good for me, honey. Oh, god, I’m almost there. So good.”

You were on the brink of orgasm. You weren’t sure if you could hold it any longer. “Spencer!”

“Where?” He asked.

“In, oh my god,” You practically were yelling at this point.

“Let go, baby,” Spencer’s words were all you needed to finally reach that sweet, sweet release again. You felt him spill inside you, the warmth making your orgasm feel even better. Spencer’s arms slowly gave out above you, and he slowly fell onto your chest. He pressed his lips to your hair, a sweet gesture.

The two of you laid there, catching your breath. You played with Spencer’s curls as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I kind of have a crush on you,” You admitted jokingly, knowing he knew.

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “I do too.” He sat up, pulling out of you. You wished he didn’t; it felt so empty. “You gotta go pee, right?”

“Yeah,” You groaned lazily, slowly sitting up. “Hey, you’re gonna take me on a date after this, right?”

Spencer nodded with a smile, “I already have it planned. Now, go use the bathroom so we can fall asleep together.”

You mock saluted at him, “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Who knew your night out would lead to the best night of your life?

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: A missing key and a terrible storm leaves you and Eddie stranded in the back of his van. What ever shall you do to pass the time?

WC: 1.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, friends-to-lovers, kinda sub!Eddie but he's mostly just a simp.

A/N: This will be my last 1k+ fic for a while, as I'll be focusing on writing blurbs for Corroded Coffin Fest throughout July. Why not go out with a (literal) bang?

--

“What do you mean, you forgot your key?”

Your eyes widen as Eddie flicks through the keyring. He shakes his head in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. 

“I was switching keychains…I thought I put them all back…” He huffs out an irritated laugh. “Must’ve left the house key on the table.”

A warm breeze siphons through the humidity, gray clouds rolling in. August in Hawkins is unbearable as it is, and the sticky heat before a storm is downright brutal. 

Eddie jiggles the doorknob once more, to no avail. “Jesus H. Christ.” He rakes a hand through his curls, frizzy and knotted from the hot weather. “Back to your place?”

Before you can agree, lightning flashes and is swiftly accompanied by booming thunder. Your heart leaps into your throat and you jump. 

“Scared the shit outta me, too.” Eddie laughs nervously. A fat raindrop falls from the sky and plops on his nose, rolling off of the side. Another lands on his cheek, then one lands on yours, until rain pours in a steady sheet. 

Eddie grabs your hand, tugging you off of the trailer’s front steps and pulling you back to his van. He flings open the back doors, always kept unlocked unless he’s hauling concert equipment. 

“Get in,” he orders, and you follow his instructions without a second though. Rainwater pools in the grass, dirt turning into mud beneath your sneakered feet. His hands grip your waist, steadying you as you climb up. “We’ll wait in here until the rain dies down.”

You ignore the lingering flames that his touch leaves behind and the way he’s now sitting right next to you. “It’s like a monsoon out there.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, listening to the storm raging outside. Raindrops sound like drum beats against the van’s exterior, a song you’ve heard many times before. 

A chill sweeps over you, reminding you of the wet cotton of your t-shirt clinging to your torso. Your miniskirt hasn't fared much better, the light-washed denim now dark. 

“Do you have a blanket back here?”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s, like, the one thing I don’t have.” He gestures to the cluttered space. 

You offer a half-smile. “S’okay.” Your palms glide up and down your goosebump-covered arms. 

He notices this, frowning. “Here,” he says. “My hands are bigger than yours.” He clumsily positions himself behind you, knees knocking against your sides. His grasp is strong but gentle, hands warming you up from the outside in. 

“Thanks.” He’s close—so close—yet it feels like he’s never been farther away. Without thinking, you scoot back until your ass brushes against his fly. 

“Sh-Shit.” Eddie inhales sharply. “That’s, um, dangerous territory.”

You raise your brows, though he can’t see them. “And rubbing my arms isn’t?”

Eddie peers around, chin resting on your shoulder. He looks up and says, “it doesn’t turn you on though.”

“Says who?”

He breathes out a laugh, stopping immediately when he realizes that you’re not joking. His voice is barely above a whisper when he asks, “This…this turns you on?” 

You nod, suddenly shy at the admission. 

“How about this?” Eddie’s lips press against the back of your neck. One calloused hand reaches for the collar of your shirt, tugging it down to expose your shoulder. He kisses that, too, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. 

“Mhm.”

“Fuck.” His other hand snakes around your throat, holding it firmly but being careful not to squeeze. “We shouldn’t do this. S’gonna ruin our friendship.”

Gently, you turn to face him, legs straddling his waist. “I’m fine with ruining it if you are.” The words are murmured, muffled by the proximity of your lips and his. 

Eddie swallows, Adam's apple bobbing with trepidation. “Just want you. Fuck, I want you so bad.”

He grabs your ass and pulls you closer until you can feel his erection straining against his jeans. You roll your hips, eliciting a moan from him. 

“You—I gotta—” He unbuckles his belt, tossing it amongst the van’s clutter. “I’m so hard it hurts.”

You reach for his pants button, but he shakes his head. “I’ll bust if you touch me,” he sheepishly explains. 

He takes off his own pants, which is much more of a chore than usual because of the rain-soaked fabric. He doesn’t bother to remove his Hellfire shirt, but you hardly notice. His tented boxers hold your focus, and despite his warning, you strip them away. You need to see what’s beneath them. 

The sight before you is nothing less than glorious. 

His cock is hard, curved slightly left, the pinkish-purple tip already leaking pre-cum. Your thumb traces the vein that runs along the shaft, and he shivers at your touch. When he looks at you with wide, wet eyes, you nearly melt on the spot.

“Is…Is this what you want?” Eddie’s voice is so soft you can barely hear it above the pouring rain. “Because…I want this so bad. So fucking bad.” Pleading, desperate, bordering on pathetic. Everything he showed outwardly, you felt on the inside.

You lean in, capturing his lips and pouring all of your desire into one searing kiss. “Don’t just want it. Need it. Need you,” you reassure him, feeling his length twitch against you. Taking it in your hand, you move your panties out of the way and rub the head against your clit. Every nudge sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. “Mmmph, please, please.”

Eddie wraps his hand around yours, guiding his cock into you. “There you go,” he whispers, hissing as you sink down. He fills you completely, bringing a pinch of pain as you adjust to him. “You okay?”

“Mhm. M-More than okay.” You grip his shoulders, curling your fingers into the shirt’s cotton fabric.  Moving your hips, you work him deeper until he’s bottomed out, sheathed within you down to the curls at his base. 

Everything is Eddie, and it feels so good. 

“Can’t believe I’m inside you.” He tries to kiss you, the action hindered by a small laugh. “I’m actually—we’re actually doing this. Fuck, you feel so good!” The last sentence is a growl, raw and primal. 

You hold on to him, knees scraping against the van’s worn carpet as your movements find their rhythm. There’s no more time for self-control. Only Eddie, his hips bucking to meet your core. 

“Might…might not last long,” he admits, swiping at a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “You’re even better than my fantasies. Never knew you’d feel this f-fucking warm. Tight. Like you’re m-made for me.”

“Maybe I am.” You swoop down to suck on his neck. “Maybe I am made for you, and I’ve been waiting for you to realize it.”

Eddie groans, throwing his head back and exposing more of his neck, which you dutifully continue marking. His thoughts are clouded by lust; neither of you speak for a while, the only noises are moans and the van squeaking on its axles. 

“It’s always you.”

Your eyes meet his. “What?”

“In my fantasies. It’s always you. Every time I jerk off, I imagine your hands, your mouth, your perfect pussy—”

“Eddie.” His name is barely a breath. You clench around him just as he kisses you, and his teeth sink into your lower lip. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but it produces a twinge of pain that has you skyrocketing towards climax. “Yes, yes, yes!”

He grabs your hips harshly, keeping you flush against him. The denim waistband of your skirt digs into your skin but you don’t care. Nothing matters, only Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…

“I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming.” He thrusts upwards in short, punctuated strokes, heaving as he spills into you. 

The two of you stay like that for a few moments, catching your breath and processing what just happened. You confessed that Eddie’s touch turned you on, you rode him in the back of his van, and then he confessed that he thinks about you when he touches himself. 

Oh, and he gave you an earth-shattering orgasm. 

As if reading your mind, Eddie says softly, “you came…right? Because if you didn’t, I can—”

“Yeah.” You can’t help but giggle, silencing him with a kiss. “I definitely came.”

His chest sags with relief. “Good. Me, too. I mean, obviously. It’s right…” He withdraws, cock softening, his cum trickling down your thigh. “Holy fucking shit.” 

There’s no masking his grin, visible through the t-shirt’s thin fabric as he pulls it over his head. With a careful touch, he wipes away his mess. 

“I think I owe you a new shirt.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, tossing the shirt aside. “I have a million of these. Not the first time one’s been, uh, stained.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn crimson at his admission. He averts his gaze from you, bringing his attention to the foggy window. The condensation squeaks under his forefinger as he draws a smiley face through it. 

“What do you wanna do till my uncle gets home?”

You, you think, but the last thing you need is for Wayne to find the van a-rockin’. “Maybe I could hear more about those fantasies of yours? And I could tell you some of mine?”

Eddie looks back at you, his spent cock still managing a small twitch. “Mmm.” His lips find your throat, sending vibrations through you when he speaks. One hand snakes between your bodies, his middle finger landing on your clit. He makes small, deliberate circles as he murmurs.

“Ladies first.”

--

[greengoblinswifey]

Only Yours— Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— based on this request.

warnings— jealous!reader, possessive!reader, sub!nicholas, ass slapping and grabbing, praise kink, marking, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, oral, begging, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff

You had agreed to go to the party, but only because your boyfriend asked you to. Frat parties weren’t usually your scene, but the way Nicholas’ eyes had lit up when he asked you had made it impossible to say no. And besides, having his hand on you while you danced together, his fingers resting on your hip and sometimes wandering to squeeze your ass, made it all worth it.

At one point, you left him to go to the bathroom and grab a drink. You got caught up chatting with a friend, which took a bit longer than you expected. When you turned back toward where you left Nicholas, your heart sank a little. A group of three girls had surrounded him, clearly flirting and trying to get his attention. One was pulling on his hand, another had her hand on his shoulder, and the third was leaning in way too close, laughing a little too loudly.

You watched as he tried to politely shrug them off, his expression nervous. He looked around, clearly uncomfortable but not wanting to be rude. You could see him saying something that must have hinted at you because all three girls suddenly glanced over in your direction. They seemed disappointed but finally backed off, one even winking at him before walking away.

When you made your way over to him, he turned and saw you, his eyes widening. “I—oh my god, I am so sorry, I didn’t know what to do! I tried to tell them, really, but they just kept going and I- I didn’t want to be rude—”

“Nicholas,” you interrupted softly, reaching up to touch his arm. “I know. I know you’re innocent and I know it wasn’t your fault.” You could feel your heart pounding a little, not just from the jealousy that had been building but from how sweet he looked, his face all worried. His cheeks flushed as he took in your words.

The party eventually died down, and you both left to head back to your dorm room, Nicholas still looking at you guiltily every few minutes as you walked. “I swear, I tried to tell them right away. I didn’t even know what to do when they got so close like that.”

“Nicholas,” you cut him off with a sigh, squeezing his hand. “It’s fine. You’re sweet for worrying, but really, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He could still sense something simmering under the surface.

He gave you a relieved smile but still looked a bit nervous. “I just, I don’t want you to think I was interested in them. I only have eyes for you.”

As you both got settled in your room, Nicholas seemed to sense there was still something lingering between you two. He watched you carefully, brow furrowed a little as if he was trying to read your mind. “Hey, uh, are you jealous?” he asked quietly, giving you a knowing look. He knew you far too well for you to brush it off.

You sighed, unable to hold back the truth. “Maybe just a little.”

He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that. “You? Jealous?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, trying not to laugh at the way he seemed genuinely stunned. “But honestly, it’s fine, because I’m the one who gets to be with you tonight. Not them.”

His cheeks flushed, and he looked down shyly, a small smile playing on his lips. “I mean, that’s true.”

You leaned in close, your voice low and confident. “And now I’m going to show you who you really belong to, because it’s me, not any of those bitches, or anyone else.”

His breath hitched, and you could feel him tense a little, his eyes searching yours. Before he could say anything, you climbed into his lap, letting your hands trail up his shoulders. You captured his mouth in a slow, deep kiss, then moved down to his neck, leaving soft kisses and feeling his pulse quicken under your lips. You found the spot where he was most sensitive, and as you started to leave little marks along his skin, you could feel him shiver, his hands coming up to hold onto you, his breaths coming quicker.

He let out a quiet moan as you left a trail of kisses and a few dark red marks down his neck. “When they see you tomorrow,” you whispered with a smirk, “they’re going to know exactly who you belong to.”

As you held Nicholas close, you leaned in with a teasing smile. “Now, be a good boy and take our clothes off,” you whispered, watching his eyes go wide with anticipation. He started with you, his hands steady as he carefully helped you out of each piece, his gaze lingering with admiration. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, eyes soft as they traveled over you.

He reached for the hem of his own shirt, but you gently stopped him, meeting his gaze. “Let me,” you said firmly. “No one else is ever going to get to do this, just me. You belong to me.”

His breath caught, and he nodded, allowing you to take control, each piece of clothing removed with a deliberate slowness that made the anticipation build between you. When he was fully naked, you let him sink back, feeling his trust and warmth radiate as you knelt down in front of him.

You took ahold of his hard cock, stroking while you took him deep. His breaths grew shaky, and his hands instinctively gripped the sheets as you took your time, letting every reaction, every soft whimper he made, guide you.

“Tell me,” you murmured between movements, voice low. “Who’s making you feel good?”

“You are,” he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper, his whole body shuddering under your touch.

“Fuck, and who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?” you asked, sliding your mouth slowly off him.

“Ah- only- only you Y/N,” he gasped. You felt his balls tighten and his fists gripped the sheets harder signaling he was close to his end.

“Now be a good boy and cum for me.”

As he finally released, his eyes met yours with intensity. You leaned up, pressing a rough, lingering kiss to his lips, and felt him relax under your touch, his hands finding your tits as you both held each other close.

“Can I eat your pussy?” he asked, a pleading look in his eyes.

“Why do you think you deserve to taste me?” you teased.

“Um— because I, uh, because I belong to you, you own me and I have to make you feel good, I want you to,” he said, stuttering.

“Wow, you’re learning. Well then get on your knees and do it.”

You switched positions, Nicholas going on his knees and you took his position in bed. You were soaked for him as he pried your legs open, marveling at the sight before him. He attached his mouth to your clit, sucking like he had a point to prove. He did. He was showing you he belonged to you. No other woman would feel what he was giving you.

“That’s my good boy, don’t stop baby,” you moaned, your hips bucking and your hand gripping his hair roughly.

He winced at the pain as you dragged him by his hair on where you wanted his tongue but the pain was his pleasure. He sucked your clit with such ferocity, you couldn’t hold back even if you wanted to.

“You make me feel so good, I’m gonna cum on your tongue baby,” you whimpered.

You gripped his hair roughly, pressing his face against your pussy as it quivered and your release ripped through you. Panting, he sucked every drop of you, gripping under your thighs as your toes curled and his name was on your lips like a prayer.

You pulled him up by his neck as soon as your high subsided, your eyes locking with his. He gasped as you shoved him hard onto the bed, the intensity in your gaze made his pulse race. Though he was used to your dominant side, something in your movements tonight left him wide-eyed and blushing.

You climbed on top of him with a look that silenced any thoughts he might have had. “Let this be a constant reminder,” you murmured, running a finger down the dark red marks on his neck then resting your hand around it possessively, “of who the fuck belong to.” His face flushed, and he nodded, breathless, clearly under your spell.

As you sank onto him, his hands gripped your waist instinctively, holding on like he’d fall apart otherwise. His gaze flickered between your eyes, filled with admiration and a hint of that familiar shyness.

You ignored the burning stretch you felt, bouncing roughly on his cock as his moans grew louder and louder.

“B-baby, please s-slow down, god, I’m gonna—”

“Shut up and take it,” you murmured, your hand squeezing his throat harder and making his head spin.

Your ass slammed onto his cock, the feeling making him gasp and plead, he wasn’t going to last long.

“Please baby, I’m gonna cum,” he sobbed.

“You don’t cum unless I tell you to, take whatever I give you.” He nodded his head frantically, not wanting to disobey you. Your hips moved in a circular motion driving him crazy as he focused all his energy on holding back the cum threatening to explode from his cock.

You licked the side of his face making his eyes roll back and he knew if you didn’t tell him to cum soon, no matter how much he tried, he wouldn’t be able to hold it.

“Oh fuck, you always stretch me so well,” you moaned, your hips grinding on his cock.

He couldn’t even form a sentence if he wanted to, all he could do was moan and sniffle, tears pricking the corner of his eyes as the pleasure become too much.

“Hold me Nick,” you moaned.

He did as he was told and your body shook as you came all over his cock. The feeling of your juices drenching him made him sob and plead.

“Please Y/N, please, please, please baby, just let me cum, just this once,” he begged.

You leaned down, your voice soft but firm. “Since you’re begging so nicely, cum inside me,” you whispered, placing a soft bite along his jawline. He drew in a shaky breath, as if he’d been waiting to hear that.

“T-thank you, thank you so much, you’re so incredible.

He moaned deeply, the sound going straight to your throbbing pussy and he squeezed your ass, bucking his hips up as he practically exploded inside you. He whimpered and sobbed, his cum seeming to be never ending. You didn’t think he had ever cum that much in one sitting.

You held him close to you as he shivered underneath your touch, his cock still twitching and throbbing inside you.

“Wow, you came so much, my sweet boy, you did so good for me.”

You kissed all over his sweaty face, wiping the small tears that rolled down his cheeks as he stared at you in complete awe.

Easing off his cock, you both gasped and he watched as his cum oozed out of your pussy. You lay beside him, bringing his head onto your chest and he held you close, his breathing slowly going back to normal.

“I definitely know who owns me now,” he chuckled breathlessly, “and m’sorry again, I’ll do more next time.”

You only responded with a smile, kissing his forehead then his lips, a silent acceptance.

[vividxpages]

✩˚౨ৎ˚✩‧The Great War PART 1 ✩₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧

PART 2 + PART 3

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 1700

summary: Jace and you are lovers, but stand on opposite sides of the war, not allowed to see each other anymore. But love always finds a way. (inspired by “The Great War” by Taylor Swift)

warnings: angst, reader is Alicents's daughter, the Greens being a bad family, hurt/comfort!, kissing

a/n: help, I'm obsessed with this boy and every song starts to sound like a possible fic idea for him!!!

𓆩♡𓆪

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

Sometimes, you could only breathe above the clouds.

Up here on your dragon’s back, the trouble you left behind underneath you did not matter anymore. You thought of the castle that slowly poisoned you from the inside, the dark nights where you thought you were completely alone in the world with no comfort in reach but the memories you carried with yourself.

Once there had been laughter at the dinner table, the halls filled with the family you had not seen in months. Now, you only saw your brothers and your mother together in one room during council. You shuddered at the memory of today’s meeting, snuggling deeper into the saddle and closer to the dragon who kept you safe in the sky.

(“Maybe we should send our dear sister.” Your brother Aegon had proposed at some frustrating point of an endless council, taking a deep swig from the wine glass in front of him.

You had simply stared at him, silent. No one was really listening to you anyway and you were past the point of turning to your mother pleadingly. She was just as silent, always frowning, always doing nothing. “What do you mean, Aegon?”

“We can weaken them from the inside.” He had spoken to the others then, who at least looked so confused as you had felt. “Send them my little precious sister who a certain bastard son always had a weak spot for. I don’t see the problem if you kill him while you’re fuck-“

Your chair had screeched over the floor and fell down with a loud thud on the stone floor. You had clenched your hands into fists as you stood, fury in your eyes.

“Aegon, stop with such nonsense.” Alicent had said quietly, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You fled.)

You welcomed the tears on your cheeks like an old friend, letting them cool your skin as you stirred your dragon through the sky, opting to just turn right and never come back to Westeros.

But oh, how your heart still clung to them.

The family up north in the realm, the family you had lost forever in the middle of his conflict.

Suddenly, you felt your dragon tense and directed your attention to the west, where a shape of a big shadow flickered through the clouds. Your mind began to race with what you’d do if Aemond had followed you, always being damned to bring you back when you had strayed too far away from Kings Landing.

But this shadow was not big enough to be Vhagar.

And those dark curls did not belong to your brother.

You gasped as your dragon let out a recognizing screech, lunging forwards through the clouds until you and the other rider could almost touch at how close your beasts were.

Time seemed to slow down as they flew past each other, teasingly snapping at each other’s necks with the joy of being reunited, but there was no doubt. As you raced through the skies, you looked into your Jace’s eyes.

You let out a broken gasp and quickly looked over your shoulder, but he and Vermax were already out of reach, descending down beneath the clouds. And suddenly, you knew where he was going. You spurned your dragon on, the wind cutting into your skin as you raced after them, faster and faster until you let your dragon spread its wings for a quick landing by the beach Jacaerys had chosen.

Only the silver moonlight illuminated the shore by the cliffs, void of any other soul who could witness the forbidden reunion between the two of you. If you had been in company, Jacaerys would’ve already been dead or held captive.

But you were alone, for the first time in months.

You slid down your dragon’s back, nearly blind by the need to reach him, to throw yourself into his arms like you had dreamed so often.

When you had seen each other for the last time, there had not been a war yet.

And Luke had been still alive.

(You had cried for hours when Aemond had returned, blood still drying on Vhagar’s massive teeth. You had begged your mother to write a letter, just a simple letter to Jace, but everything at court had still been too fragile to do anything but be in shock over what had happened up there. It had nearly driven you mad, to know that somewhere Jace was suffering the loss of his little brother and there was nothing you could do to comfort him.)

Now, he was right there in front of you, leaving Vermax behind him and running towards you on the wet sand by the water. You broke out into a sprint as well, a disbelieving laugh that was anything but amused leaving your tight throat as his features became more and more clear to you.

You crashed together like two waves.

The embrace was nearly violent as his arms slung themselves around you, lifting you up and pressing you into him. There was no strength in your bones anymore and if Jace wouldn’t have held you so tightly, you would’ve crashed onto the ground, shattering into a million pieces.

Only Jace was holding you together right now.

He was everything you had been missing in those terrible weeks. He smelled like sea and wind and smoke and your hands shook as you combed through his wet curls, your tear-streaked face securely hidden in his neck.

You never wanted to let go of him and it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

“Gods- my love…” He mumbled into your ear and you let out a choked sob as you held each other. It was like he could not decide where he wanted to touch you first. His hands drifted over you restlessly, up and down your spine, holding onto you as if you could disappear again at any moment.

“How did you find me?” You asked breathlessly, your bottom lip still trembling dangerously as you caressed his cheeks, needing to refamiliarize yourself with the feel of his skin on yours.

He swallowed thickly, unshed tears glistening in his beautiful years. “I remembered the route you liked to take when you needed to stop thinking. And it’s cloudy today. No one saw me coming. I’ve been waiting for a cloudy night like this for weeks-“

His voice broke and you pulled him closer again, shudders of pain and longing and relief to be with him going through you in an endless loop. How much had changed since the last time you had seen eye to eye: Your father had always said you’d make a good match back then and now Jace had one brother less and you were a captive in your own home.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as you both looked out on the ocean. “I- oh Jace, I tried to write, I wanted to send you a letter, but- I wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t help you and-“

“It’s okay.” He said, but it sounded lifeless, void. “It’s not your fault. I wished I could’ve been there for you too. I know how much you loved Luke.”

Gods, you wanted to cry and never stop again. Even now, Jace was trying to be strong for you, as he had always been.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I love you.” He told you and cupped your cheek, looking deeply and longingly into your eyes. “I missed you every second we’ve been apart. Have you been treated well? Have Aegon and Aemond-“

“I love you too. I want to come with you.” You interrupted him fiery and he shuddered at the insane idea of it, the consequences unimaginable and likely deadly for one of you. “Please, please, let me come with you, I can’t stay a single day there, my mother is not the same anymore and- my brothers have been horrible with the things they want to do to Rhaenyra and you.”

He shushed you gently, drawing his arms tighter around you and swaying you back and forth. “I’ll find a way. I’m not letting you stay there alone for much longer, my love. It makes me sick to think about you being alone in Kings Landing, believe me, but…mother says it’s not safe, not yet-“

“I won’t cause your family any trouble, I promise-“

“It’s not us we’re fearing for.” He smiled sadly at you. “It’s you. I won’t summon your brother’s anger on you. I’d rather take it on myself, but- we need to be a little more patient, okay?”

You could see how much effort those words cost him and you had no doubt if it was his choice to make, he’d take you with him to Dragonstone and never look back. You watched his throat bump with tension, his jaw set, his lips pressed together tightly.

A sudden small smile danced over your face. “So you only came to me tonight because you wanted to see me?”

His eyes were dark with longing, with wanton he could not give in to, not tonight. “My love...I needed to see you.” His thumb lovingly brushed over your cheek, the pad of it briefly touching your lips.

There was so much you wanted to say, so many things you needed to tell him and hear from him, but in this short moment you were only a girl and he was a boy. Your boy.

 He met you right in the middle, delicately holding your face between his hands as your lips met, desperately kissing you as his taste exploded in your mouth once again. He kissed you drunk, enveloping all your senses until all you felt was him. His lips were dry and salty from the long flight over the clouds and along the coast, your runny noses sliding against each other, but it was perfect.

Your heart was mended with every little sigh into your mouth, his long lashes brushing over your cheeks, your hands tangling in his hair…

You thought that maybe, in another lifetime, the two of you could’ve been able to stop the war.

Another part of you knew that you always had been damned, cursed.

You blinked into the starless grey sky above you as Jace began to ravish your neck with wet kisses and you thought of the old saying passed on from generation to generation.

Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.

On which side would yours land if you ever lost him?

On which would his land when it finally sank in that he could never have you?

[jarofstyles]

What about bf!harry gets hard in public and hes basically using you as a human shield and pulling you into his lap while subtly grinding into you🫣

This is a very fratrry thing to do once they get together tbh

Check out our Patreon!

Warnings- exhibitionism, don’t do stuff like this in public plz, filthy talk

——-

“You don’t know what this fuckin’ dress does to me.” With lips mouthing at her neck, she had to take a deep breath as his handsy palms ran over her stomach and tugged her closer to him. The conversations continued around them but as usual, he only had eyes for her. The obsession becoming unglued as his breath left chills on her skin.

“I think I have some idea. It’s against my ass.” She muttered lowly, taking a sip of some sort of lemon drop concoction which- ugh. Whoever was bartending at this party really shouldn’t give up their day job. “You’re like a feral dog sometimes. Just running around grinding your dick into me.” Her voice was kept down but it was hard not to push back into the slow rocking. The guise was he was moving with the music, but those jeans did nothing to shield her from the feeling of the thick length against her ass.

“So try n’tame me then.” He would really like that. The man had been nearly begging her to go to his room but she’d promised her friends she wouldn’t disappear too quickly. Harry was demanding of her time since they’d gotten together, clingy and slightly annoying but she liked to make him work for it a little bit. For a man who had been slutting it around with whoever he wanted- his words, not hers though it did seem like something she’d said- it felt really nice to know she he liked her that much.

“You’d like it too much.” She sighed, tightening her grip on the red solo cup as teeth nipped over her throat. He was borderline obnoxious with the PDA, but Harry really had no sense of shame when it came to that. Her fingers made the cup crinkle, a betrayal from a longtime friend as it exposed just how much it actually got to her. “Can you behave? For one night?”

“Mmmm… nope.” He sighed against her skin. “M’gonna be annoying and hope you stop caring what other people want so you can come upstairs like you really want to do.” Thankfully he kept his voice down as his hand rubbed over her tummy, exhaling a sigh. “I can’t wait until I get you alone and I get t’bury myself in that tight little cunt. Nice n’snug for me, and I’ll make sure you can feel it in this cute belly.”

Harry knew he had a hold on her that she didn’t let a lot of people see, feeling her neck heat up against his lips as she said his voice in a low warning that she mean absolutely none of. “Harry. Stop it. People are around.”

“And that does nothing but get you to soak those panties. Is it the nasty little thong today? The one you left for me t’wrap around my dick when you went home for the weekend?” He hummed. “Got them nice and sticky. T’be honest, if you’d let me I’d take you over into the corner, nudge your dress up and fuck you just like this.” He kept his hands where they were but his cock rubbed over her ass, giving him some friction. She could feel it throb against her, the lump in her throat thick as he continued to talk. His filthy mouth never did know where or when to quit.

“If you’d let me I’d have you walkin’ upstairs with my load down your thighs. Or your cum all over my fingers. I’d give you anything you’d let me have, honestly. And if you think I can’t tell you’re clenching those incredible thighs together, that I don’t know you’re slick between them and probably makin’ a fucking sloppy messy on your skin, you should think again. I know how much you love when I touch you. Like to growl at me like a little kitten but your body can’t hide from me.”

Y/N couldn’t deny it even if she wanted to. Clenching her jaw she fought the flush working its way over her chest, heat flooding her body as he finally moved a hand from her stomach to turn her face so he could catch her lips.

The lack of shyness from the man had him kissing her deep, unashamed of the wolf whistles and groans from his friends as he kissed her like he owned her mouth. She was reminded of it as his tongue brushed against hers and his thick fingers held her chin in place so he could kiss her how he wanted. He did- god, he really fucking did.

“Get a room!”

Harry broke the kiss with a wicked grin. “Don’t mind if we do.”

[its-avalon-08]

Hiiii ! I don’t know if you’re taking requests or not but I had an idea for a Lando x reader imagine where they’ve been dating for a little bit (it’s still very new) and then one of his ex’s comes back into his life (platonically) and he completely forgets about the reader until someone comments about his getting back with his ex and he realises how much he’s neglected reader. So he has to make it up her.

Angst to fluff please

see me again (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, neglect (GUYS WHY SO MUCH ANGST WHO HURT YOU)

Lando and Y/N’s relationship was still wrapped in the charm of newness. Six months in, everything felt fresh and exciting—every touch, every shared secret, and every stolen moment was etched with the novelty of love.

The mornings were Y/N’s favorite, especially when she woke up before him. She’d sit by the large windows of his Monaco apartment, sipping her coffee as the sunlight played across the harbor. Lando would shuffle out, hair tousled, mumbling something unintelligible about coffee before wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“You’re up early,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I wanted to watch the sunrise,” she replied, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her neck.

“I’m way more interesting than a sunrise.”

“Debatable.”

He feigned offense, but the way his lips curved into a smile gave him away. These quiet moments were theirs—a world apart from the public eye and the roar of engines.

It was during one of these serene mornings when his phone buzzed on the counter, the name Sophia lighting up the screen.

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked casually, sipping her coffee.

Lando glanced at his phone and grinned. “Oh, Sophia. My ex. She’s back in Monaco.”

Y/N’s stomach tightened, but she kept her expression neutral. “Oh, that’s nice. Are you two still in touch?”

“Not really. We parted on good terms, though. She just wanted to catch up.”

Catch up. The phrase hung in the air like an unspoken question.

“That’s... nice,” Y/N replied, her tone light but forced.

“It’ll be fine,” Lando reassured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’re just friends now.”

At first, Y/N convinced herself it wasn’t a big deal. Lando was an open book, and he’d never given her a reason to doubt him. But over the next few weeks, Sophia’s presence loomed larger in their lives than Y/N had anticipated.

“Hey, love, can we raincheck tonight? Sophia wants to grab dinner, and I haven’t seen her in forever,” Lando said one evening, his tone casual, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N’s stomach sank. “Yeah, sure. No problem,” she replied, masking her disappointment.

But it didn’t stop there. Plans were canceled or cut short. Lando would come home later and later, distracted and tired. The easy laughter they used to share was replaced with curt conversations, and Y/N felt like an afterthought in his life.

The final straw came when she arrived at the paddock one weekend, hoping to surprise him, only to find him deep in conversation with Sophia by his car. They looked so comfortable together, laughing and reminiscing, that Y/N felt like an outsider looking in.

“Y/N!” Lando called when he spotted her. “Come meet Sophia.”

She forced a polite smile, shaking Sophia’s hand. The woman was beautiful and warm, everything Y/N wasn’t sure she could compete with.

“It’s so nice to meet you. Lando talks about you all the time,” Sophia said, her smile genuine.

“Likewise,” Y/N replied, her voice tight.

----

The invitation had been on their fridge for weeks: a prestigious event honoring young researchers. Y/N had worked tirelessly on a groundbreaking discovery, and the award was a testament to her dedication. Lando had promised to be there.

That night, Y/N stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her dress nervously. She had picked a navy-blue gown that Lando had once said brought out her eyes. She sent him a quick text as she slipped on her heels.

Y/N: Heading out now. Can’t wait to see you there.

But as she arrived at the venue and scanned the crowd, he was nowhere to be found. She sat at the table reserved for her friends and family, her phone buzzing in her clutch.

Lando: Sophia’s car broke down, and I had to help her out. I’ll come as soon as I can.

The evening passed in a blur. Y/N walked on stage to accept her award, smiling for the cameras, but the empty seat next to her screamed louder than anything else.

When she got home, her trophy in hand, Lando was already asleep on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled when she woke him up. “Sophia was stranded, and I couldn’t leave her.”

Y/N just nodded, swallowing her words. What was the point of saying them if he wasn’t listening?

---

Their Friday date nights had been a sacred tradition from the very beginning. It was their way of carving out time amidst their busy schedules. Y/N had planned something special—dinner at the restaurant where they had their first date, followed by dessert at their favorite ice cream shop.

She waited at the table, checking her phone every few minutes.

Y/N: Are you on your way?

No reply.

Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and the once-cozy restaurant felt suffocating. Y/N paid for her untouched meal and walked out, her heels clicking against the pavement as she headed home.

When she entered the apartment, Lando was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey,” he said casually. “Sorry, I lost track of time. Sophia and I were talking, and—”

“You forgot,” Y/N interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended.

“I said I’m sorry,” Lando replied, frowning. “You could’ve called.”

“I shouldn’t have to,” she shot back, her frustration boiling over. “I planned this night for us, Lando. Not for me to sit alone while you spend the evening with her.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t mean to,” Y/N repeated bitterly. “That’s the problem.”

---

Y/N had been looking forward to their weekend getaway for weeks. It wasn’t anything extravagant—just a quiet trip to the countryside, away from the noise of Monaco and the demands of Lando’s career.

She packed their bags and waited by the door, excitement bubbling in her chest. But an hour before they were supposed to leave, Lando called.

“I can’t make it, love,” he said apologetically. “Sophia’s moving, and she needs help with her furniture. Raincheck?”

Raincheck. The word felt like a slap.

“Sure,” Y/N replied, her voice flat.

The weekend passed in solitude, and the bags she had packed remained untouched by the door.

Each instance chipped away at Y/N’s patience and self-worth. By the time she confided in Alexandra and Charles, she wasn’t just frustrated—she was heartbroken.

The facade cracked later that week when Y/N confided in Alexandra and Charles during a quiet dinner at their place.

“I don’t even know who I’m dating anymore,” she admitted, tears streaming down her face.

Alexandra wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Y/N, you need to tell him how you feel. He can’t fix what he doesn’t know.”

Y/N shook her head. “He doesn’t even see it, Alex. I feel invisible. Like I’m just... here while he’s off with her. And the worst part? I don’t even think he realizes what he’s doing.”

Charles, who had been silent, finally spoke. “That’s not fair to you. You deserve better.”

“I don’t even know if he loves me anymore,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking.

Alexandra hugged her tightly, while Charles looked at her with quiet determination. “Then he needs to figure it out,” he said firmly. “But not at the cost of your happiness.”

Y/N nodded, her heart heavy as she realized she couldn’t keep going like this. Something had to change—because the person she had fallen in love with felt further away than ever.

time skip--

Chapter 2: Cracks Become Chasms

Lando stood near the McLaren motorhome, signing autographs and laughing with fans. It was a typical morning at the paddock, but the air felt heavier today. The whispers had started earlier, and by the time a journalist approached him for a quick interview, the weight of the rumors was impossible to ignore.

“So, Lando,” the journalist began with a smirk, “there’s been a lot of buzz about you and Sophia lately. Fans are wondering—is there something going on? A reconciliation perhaps?”

The question hit him like a brick.

“Uh, no,” he stammered, forcing a chuckle. “We’re just friends.”

The journalist raised an eyebrow. “It’s just, we haven’t seen much of Y/N lately, and you and Sophia seem to be spending a lot of time together. People are starting to talk.”

Lando felt the color drain from his face. “Y/N and I are fine,” he said quickly, brushing off the comment. But doubt began to creep in.

As he walked back toward the garage, he spotted Alexandra striding toward him, her expression thunderous. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement, each step radiating fury.

“Alex, hey—”

“Don’t Alex me,” she snapped, her voice louder than he’d ever heard. “What the hell is wrong with you, Lando?”

“Wait, what?” Lando blinked, taken aback.

“You’ve been an absolute idiot, that’s what!” Alexandra’s voice rose, catching the attention of several passersby. “Do you even realize what you’ve done to Y/N? She’s been breaking her heart over you, and you’re too busy playing hero for Sophia to notice!”

“Alexandra—”

“No!” she interrupted, pointing a finger at his chest. “Do you know where Y/N was last night? Crying her eyes out because she doesn’t know if the person she fell in love with even exists anymore!”

Lando stepped back, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out.

“You’ve been canceling on her, forgetting her, neglecting her! And for what? To be Sophia’s knight in shining armor? She’s your past, Lando. Y/N is your present! Or is she not anymore?”

“Alexandra, enough,” Charles murmured, stepping in. He gently pulled her back, his hands on her shoulders as he whispered something in French, his voice soft and soothing.

“Don’t defend him,” she snapped at Charles, though her tone softened slightly at his touch.

“I’m not defending him,” Charles replied, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Alexandra’s rage. “But you’re scaring him, and I’d rather he listens than shuts down.”

Alexandra huffed but stepped back, crossing her arms as her eyes burned holes into Lando. “If you care about her at all, Lando, you’d better fix this. Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

The words echoed in Lando’s ears as he retreated to the privacy of his driver’s room. He sat on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands.

Was it really that bad?

He grabbed his phone and opened social media, his heart sinking as he scrolled through countless comments.

@fan1: “Is Lando back with Sophia? Poor Y/N hasn’t been seen in ages.” @fan2: “Sophia again? Guess Y/N deserved better anyway.” @fan3: “Y/N’s been posting about her work, and Lando hasn’t even acknowledged her award. But sure, let’s talk about Sophia’s car breaking down.” @fan4: “Why does it feel like Y/N is just an afterthought to him now? I miss when they seemed so happy.”

His breath caught as he stumbled upon a photo of Y/N at her award show, standing on stage with her trophy. Her smile was radiant, but something about her eyes looked off—distant, hollow.

Lando scrolled further, finding more pictures of her. There was one she’d posted of their planned getaway, the caption reading, “Maybe next time.” It had been liked thousands of times, but the comments told a different story.

@fan5: “It’s sad seeing her try so hard when Lando doesn’t even show up.” @fan6: “He doesn’t deserve her if this is how he treats her.” @fan7: “Sophia’s great, but Y/N is the one who stood by him. What is he doing?”

Each comment was a stab to his chest, and Lando realized with horror that everyone had noticed his neglect—everyone but him.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as guilt clawed at him. How had he been so blind? Y/N had been giving him everything, and he had taken it all for granted. Alexandra’s words echoed in his mind: She’s been breaking her heart over you.

Lando’s chest tightened as his thumb hovered over Y/N’s contact. He didn’t even know what to say. Would an apology even be enough?

time skip --

Chapter 3: Silent Realizations

The apartment was eerily quiet when Lando stepped through the door. He set his keys down carefully, as though afraid any sound might shatter the fragile air of tension. He glanced at the clock—it was late, far later than he’d intended to come home.

The smell of food lingered faintly in the air, but the dishes were already washed and stacked neatly. A plate of leftovers sat covered on the counter, untouched. He frowned, guilt gnawing at him. She hadn’t waited for him for dinner.

The living room lights were dimmed, and his heart clenched when he saw Y/N curled up on the couch, a blanket pulled halfway over her. She wasn’t asleep—her eyes were on the TV, but the blank look on her face told him she wasn’t really watching.

“Y/N,” he called softly, his voice breaking the stillness.

She glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable, before returning her gaze to the screen.

“Hey,” he tried again, stepping closer.

“Hey,” she replied, her tone distant, polite.

It broke him.

Lando stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before his feet carried him to her. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to explain or defend himself. Instead, he sank onto the couch beside her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her into his chest.

Y/N froze at first, her body stiff against his. She didn’t hug him back, didn’t move, didn’t even speak.

“Please,” Lando whispered into her hair, his voice cracking. He held her tighter, as if letting go would mean losing her forever.

After a moment, something in her broke. Her arms wrapped around him, clutching him like he was the last lifeline in a storm. Her shoulders shook as the first sob escaped her lips, and then the dam burst.

She cried into his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. Her pain poured out in waves, raw and unfiltered, and Lando held her like his life depended on it.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice barely audible over her sobs. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

Her crying didn’t falter, but he kept going, the words spilling out of him in a desperate rush.

“I’ve been the worst boyfriend. I’ve neglected you, hurt you, made you feel like you don’t matter, and it’s all my fault. You’ve given me everything, Y/N, and I... I’ve been too blind to see it.”

She pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face looking up at him, her eyes filled with anguish.

“You don’t even see me anymore, Lando,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I see you now,” he said, his voice fierce, his hands cupping her face. “I see you, Y/N. And I hate myself for making you feel invisible, for making you question your worth, for making you cry when all you’ve ever done is love me.”

He rested his forehead against hers, his own tears slipping free. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. You’re the reason I smile, the reason I feel grounded, the reason I believe I can be better. And I’ve taken you for granted. I’ve been so caught up in my own world that I forgot how much I need you in it.”

Her lip quivered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I miss us.”

“We’ll get us back,” Lando vowed, his hands trembling as they brushed her tears away. “I swear to you, Y/N. No more excuses, no more distractions. I’m here. Fully, completely, here. And I’ll spend every day proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”

Her arms tightened around him again, her sobs subsiding into quiet hiccups. For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to believe him.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” she murmured, her voice small.

“You won’t,” he promised, his lips brushing her forehead. “I’ll never let that happen. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

They stayed like that for a long time, tangled in each other’s arms, the silence now filled with unspoken promises and fragile hope. It wouldn’t be easy, but Lando was determined to make things right—starting now.

--

The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside. It had been weeks since everything had fallen apart, but in the aftermath, Lando had rebuilt their relationship brick by brick. Every day, he showed up—not just physically, but emotionally. Dinner dates, goodnight kisses, endless inside jokes—it was perfect. Y/N felt like they’d found their way back to each other, stronger than ever.

But perfection could still hide lingering fears.

Lando shot up in bed, his breathing ragged, sweat dampening his shirt. The room was dark, the faint glow of the moon casting shadows across the walls. His chest heaved as the images of his dream haunted him—Y/N’s tear-streaked face, her cold tone, and the final words that echoed in his mind like a death knell:

“I can’t do this anymore, Lando. I’m done.”

His heart twisted painfully, and he scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to shake the phantom ache. Quietly, so as not to wake her, he slipped out of bed and padded to the balcony.

The cool night air hit his skin as he stepped outside, leaning heavily on the railing. His chest was tight, his throat dry. Despite everything they’d overcome, the fear of losing her still clawed at him.

“Lando?”

Her voice was soft, laced with sleep, but it startled him. He turned to see Y/N standing in the doorway, her hair messy from sleep and his oversized hoodie draped over her frame.

“Hey,” he whispered, quickly wiping at his face.

“Why are you out here?” she asked, stepping closer. Her brows furrowed as she noticed the redness in his eyes. “Have you been crying?”

“No, I’m fine,” he lied, his voice shaky.

“Lando,” she said firmly, crossing the distance between them. She placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Talk to me.”

He let out a shuddering breath, his resolve crumbling under her touch. “I had a nightmare,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “You left me.”

Her face softened instantly. “Oh, Lando…”

“It felt so real,” he continued, his voice breaking. “You said you couldn’t do it anymore. That I’d hurt you too much, and you were done. I tried to stop you, but you were already gone. And when I woke up, I—” His voice cracked, and he covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking as silent sobs overtook him.

Y/N’s heart shattered at the sight. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “I’m here,” she murmured, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “I’m right here, Lando.”

“I was so awful to you,” he choked out, his arms tightening around her. “I keep thinking about everything I did—everything I didn’t do—and I hate myself for it. What if… what if one day you realize you deserve better and leave?”

She pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, her hands cupping his face. “Lando Norris, listen to me,” she said, her tone firm but filled with love. “I’m not going anywhere. Yes, you hurt me. Yes, it was hard. But you’ve shown me every single day since then how much you care, how much I mean to you. You fought for us, and I know you’ll keep fighting.”

“I just… I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice raw.

“You won’t,” she promised, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks to wipe away his tears. “I’m here because I love you. Not the perfect version of you, not the driver everyone sees, but you. The one who makes stupid jokes, who holds me when I cry, who tries so hard to make up for his mistakes. That’s the Lando I love. And I’m not leaving him.”

Her words washed over him, soothing the storm inside. He buried his face in her shoulder, clutching her as though she might disappear if he let go.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

“You do,” she insisted, pulling back to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re not perfect, Lando. Neither am I. But we’re perfect together, and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded against her shoulder, the tightness in his chest finally easing. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she replied, holding him close.

They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth under the night sky. Eventually, Y/N tugged him back inside, settling them both on the bed. She kept her arms around him, her fingers running soothingly through his hair until his breathing evened out and sleep finally claimed him.

And as he drifted off, Lando realized that as long as he had her, the nightmares didn’t stand a chance.

[neferaskingdom]

♡ What's Me Without You? | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: She’s his forbidden fruit—the one thing Max can never have but can’t stay away from. She’s his calm in the chaos, his greatest temptation, and the silent ache he’ll carry for the rest of his life.

A/N: This story was requested by @pinkinternetstarlight

MAX VERSTAPPEN MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Max Verstappen wasn’t sure when the ache in his chest had become a constant companion, a dull, hollow reminder of all he wanted but could never have. Maybe it had always been there, buried beneath the layers of fame, pressure, and expectation. Or maybe it had grown over time, with every laugh that escaped Y/n’s lips, with every soft touch of her hand on his arm, with every time she smiled at him like he was her whole world.

He didn’t deserve her. He never had.

Yet, she was always there, unwavering in her support, her loyalty, her love—though she would never admit it. Y/n wasn’t just his best friend. She was his home, the only person who saw every crack in his armor and stayed anyway.

Max leaned back against the couch, his head resting on her lap as her fingers combed gently through his hair. Her touch was soothing, her presence grounding him in a way no one else could. The silence between them wasn’t awkward; it was familiar, comforting. It was the kind of quiet that reminded him he wasn’t alone.

But even now, even with her hand softly stroking his head and her scent surrounding him, guilt gnawed at the edges of his mind.

He’d had a terrible race—another mechanical failure, another DNF that left him simmering with frustration. When he’d finally returned to his hotel room, all he wanted was her. Not Kelly, who was waiting for him back in Monaco with Penelope, but Y/n. It wasn’t right, and he knew it, but Y/n was the only one who could put him back together when he felt like he was falling apart.

“I came as soon as I could,” she whispered, her voice soft and laced with worry.

She always did.

It didn’t matter where in the world he was. It didn’t matter what she had going on. If he needed her, she came. She’d dropped everything to be here tonight, flying across time zones and leaving behind her own life to hold him in her arms.

Max closed his eyes, breathing her in. He could feel the tension in her body as she sat rigid beneath him, her free hand resting lightly on his shoulder. She was worried about him—she always worried about him.

“You didn’t have to come,” he murmured, though they both knew it was a lie. He didn’t know how to survive these nights without her anymore.

“Don’t be stupid,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “Of course I had to come. You’re—” She paused, swallowing hard. “You’re my best friend.”

Max’s eyes fluttered open as her hand stilled in his hair. He shifted slightly, pressing his face into her neck, seeking the comfort he couldn’t find anywhere else.

Her skin was warm against his cheek, her pulse steady and reassuring. He felt safe here, in her arms, in her presence. But the safety came with a tinge of guilt, a bitter reminder that this wasn’t where he should be.

But Kelly didn’t understand.

Max could see it in the way her lips pressed together whenever Y/n’s name came up, the way her smile tightened whenever Y/n walked into the room. She never said anything outright, but the tension was there, simmering beneath the surface.

It didn’t matter.

Max knew where his loyalty lay. Y/n had been there long before Kelly, long before anyone. She was the reason he kept going some days, the only person who truly understood the toll this life took on him. Kelly might not like it, but even she couldn’t deny it—Max needed Y/n in a way he would never need anyone else.

He tried to make it work with Kelly, for Penelope’s sake if nothing else. He liked Kelly—she was kind and understanding in her own way, and he adored Penelope. But it wasn’t the same. It never could be.

Kelly had confronted him about it once, in the early days of their relationship.

“She loves you,” she had said, her voice calm but cutting.

Max had frozen, unsure how to respond. He didn’t deny it. How could he? Y/n’s love was written in every small thing she did for him, in every sacrifice she made, in every time she dropped everything to be by his side.

“And you love her,” Kelly had continued, her eyes hard but resigned.

He didn’t deny that, either.

But Kelly had never brought it up again. She knew better.

Because as much as she hated it, as much as it hurt her, she knew that if something happened Max would always choose Y/n. 

Max shifted on the couch, his voice breaking the silence. “Do you ever think about what it would be like? If things were different?”

Y/n’s hand stilled in his hair, her fingers hovering for a moment before resuming their gentle strokes.

“Different how?” she asked softly, her voice careful, cautious.

Max hesitated, his heart pounding. He didn’t know why he had said it, why he was opening this door. But the words were out now, and there was no taking them back.

“Us,” he said quietly. “If we were...different.”

Y/n was silent for a long time, and Max felt his chest tighten, the weight of her unspoken words pressing down on him.

“Don’t,” she whispered finally, her voice trembling. “Don’t say things like that, Max.”

He remembered the first time she had cried in front of him. They had been teenagers, sitting in his room after a long day.

“No one likes me,” she had said, her voice thick with tears. “I’m ugly, and I’m boring, and no one wants to be with me.”

Max had been furious—not at her, but at the world for making her feel this way. He had held her as she cried, whispering reassurances into her hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he had told her, his voice firm. “And anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot.”

She had sniffled, pulling back to look at him with watery eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he had said, his hands on her shoulders. “You’re amazing, Y/n. And if some guy doesn’t see that, then he’s not worth your time.”

He meant it. He always had.

But Max couldn’t help but feel guilty. After all, it was his fault she was crying in the first place.

He knew he had chased away every boy who had shown an interest in her. He hadn’t meant to, not at first. But the thought of her with someone else, of her giving her heart to someone who wasn’t him, was unbearable.

So he had intervened, subtly at first, then more overtly as time went on. He didn’t regret it, even when she cried on his shoulder, wondering why no one stayed.

He couldn’t tell her the truth, couldn’t admit that he was the reason.

Because Max Verstappen was a selfish man. And he couldn’t let a bit of guilt stop him from protecting her.

Max’s fists clenched as he watched Y/n laugh with the guy at the bar. Her smile was radiant, and for a moment, Max forgot how to breathe.

Then the guy leaned closer, and Max saw red.

“You okay?” Y/n asked when Max stalked over, her brows knitting in concern.

“Fine,” he said tightly, his gaze flicking to the guy. “Who’s this?”

The guy opened his mouth to respond, but Max cut him off. “You should go.”

“Max!” Y/n hissed, her eyes widening.

The guy frowned but quickly walked away, muttering something under his breath.

“What the hell was that?” Y/n demanded, crossing her arms.

“He was bothering you,” Max said, his jaw clenching.

“He wasn’t bothering me,” she snapped. “He was nice. And now he thinks I’m some helpless girl with an overprotective brother.”

Max flinched at the word brother. “I was just looking out for you.”

“I don’t need you to scare off every guy I talk to!” she said, her voice rising.

Max looked away, guilt twisting in his stomach. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Y/n sighed, her expression softening. “Just...let me handle it next time, okay?”

“Okay,” he said quietly, though he knew there wouldn’t be a next time.

Because no one would ever be good enough for her.

Max remembered the night he realized he was in love with her.

They had been eighteen, sitting on the hood of his car under a blanket of stars. It was one of the rare nights he wasn’t on the road, and she had insisted on taking him out to the middle of nowhere to remind him what quiet felt like.

“Do you ever think about the future?” she had asked, her voice soft and wistful.

“Sometimes,” he had admitted, though the future was always a blur to him—races, championships, the never-ending grind.

“I think about it all the time,” she had said, her eyes shining as she looked at the sky. “Where we’ll be, what we’ll be doing...if we’ll still be here together.”

“Of course we will,” he had said without hesitation.

She had smiled then, the kind of smile that made his heart ache, and he realized in that moment that he wanted to see that smile every day for the rest of his life.

But he had been too afraid to say anything, too afraid to ruin what they had. And as the years passed, that fear only grew.

Max didn’t deserve her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her.

He wanted her laugh, her touch, her presence in every corner of his life. He wanted to wake up to her sleepy smile and fall asleep with her head on his chest. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her, how he would give anything to be the man she deserved.

But he couldn’t.

Because she deserved better.

And so he kept his feelings locked away, hidden beneath layers of unspoken words and longing glances.

There were moments when he thought about what it would be like to be with her, really be with her.

He thought about holding her hand in public, about introducing her as his girlfriend instead of his best friend. He thought about what it would be like to kiss her, to wake up beside her, to call her his.

But then the doubts crept in, the fear that he would ruin her, that his demons would drag her down with him.

She was too good for him, too pure, too kind. Those thoughts were dangerous, and Max knew better than to indulge them.

Max shifted on the couch, pulling back to look at her.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion.

She frowned, tilting her head. “For what?”

“For everything,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “For always being here. For putting up with me. For...everything.”

She smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. “You don’t have to thank me, Max. You know I’d do anything for you.”

And that was the problem.

She would do anything for him, and he would let her, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it.

Max didn’t sleep that night.

He never could when the weight of his emotions threatened to suffocate him, and tonight, it felt heavier than ever. He stayed where he was, his shoulder stiff but unwilling to move and disturb her peaceful slumber. Y/n deserved her rest—she had flown halfway across the world just for him. She always did.

The next morning, Y/n was awake before him, bustling quietly around the small hotel room. Max cracked his eyes open, watching her from where he lay. She had always been a morning person, though he didn’t know how she managed it after such long flights and sleepless nights.

“Good morning,” she said softly, noticing his gaze.

Her voice was warm, soothing, and it wrapped around him like a blanket.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/n walked over, holding out a cup of coffee. Max took it gratefully, his fingers brushing against hers. The touch was brief but enough to send a spark up his arm, one he tried desperately to ignore.

“Feeling better?” she asked, sitting down beside him.

He nodded, though it was a lie. He felt worse, if anything, but he wouldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t.

“You didn’t have to stay,” he said quietly, staring into his coffee.

“I wanted to,” she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Max turned to look at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her soft smile. She always looked at him like that, like he was the most important person in her world. And maybe he was.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Max had meetings and obligations, and Y/n trailed behind him, her presence quiet but comforting.

It wasn’t until they returned to his hotel room that evening that the tension in his chest began to ease.

Y/n curled up on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she scrolled through her phone. Max sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. He could feel the warmth radiating from her, and it was enough to make his heart ache.

“I should head back tomorrow,” she said after a while, her voice hesitant.

Max’s stomach twisted at the thought. He didn’t want her to leave—not yet, not ever—but he knew he couldn’t ask her to stay.

“Do you have to?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended.

Y/n turned to look at him, her eyes soft. “I’ve been gone from work too long already, Max. I can’t keep disappearing every time you need me.”

The words weren’t meant to hurt, but they did.

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ll miss you.”

Her expression softened further, and she reached out, her hand resting gently on his. “I’ll miss you too.”

Max didn’t want to let her go, but the next morning, he found himself standing in the lobby, watching as she prepared to leave.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said, her voice firm. “I mean it, Max.”

“I will,” he promised, though they both knew he hated calling her. He hated being a burden, hated pulling her away from her life.

She hugged him tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck. Max held her just as tightly, his hands resting on her back.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” she whispered.

He nodded, though he wasn’t sure he knew how to without her.

Back in Monaco, Kelly was waiting for him. She greeted him with a kiss, and Penelope ran into his arms, her laughter filling the room.

It should have been enough.

And in a way, it was. Max loved Penelope, and he cared for Kelly. But it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same.

That night, as he lay in bed beside Kelly, his mind wandered to Y/n. He wondered what she was doing, if she was thinking about him the way he was thinking about her.

Kelly shifted beside him, her arm draping over his chest. Max stiffened, guilt washing over him.

He wasn’t a cheater, but sometimes, it felt like he was. Max loved Kelly in his own way, but it wasn’t the kind of love that consumed him. It wasn’t the kind of love that made his chest ache and his heart race.

That kind of love was reserved for Y/n, and he knew it always would be.

As long as she was happy, he would endure the ache.

Because she deserved better than him.

And Max Verstappen would rather break his own heart a thousand times than let anyone break hers.

[gguk-n]

Replaced (Charles Leclerc x Ferrari Driver!Reader)

Part 1 of Transition

Summary- Being the first and only female driver in Formula One was a huge deal; to be signed by Ferrari was even bigger. Imagine being blind sided by a replacement by Lewis Hamilton in 2025. Even worse; your boyfriend doesn't get it.

Warning- a little angst, established relationship

{Reader's POV}

My world came crashing down when I saw the post on the official Formula One social media. 'Lewis Hamilton to join Ferrari from 2025' How could Fred do this to me? After everything. I've been performing consistently, getting podiums, race wins against a RedBull. What more was I supposed to do? Why wasn't I informed before? My heart was beating against my chest, my eyes burned, my stomach was turning in on it's self. I couldn't help but pace around our house in Monaco. Charles had gone grocery shopping. Did Charles know? Why wouldn't he tell me if he did? How could they announce this when the season hasn't even started? Was I that easily disposable? My phone was blowing up from texts and calls from friends and family. I wanted to cry. Where was Charles when you needed him?

Speak of the devil; he opened the door with a pip in his step and a big smile on his face; he came and hugged me. "I missed you" he mumbled against my neck. My hands hung by my side. I didn't have any feeling left in my limbs. "Did you know?" I stammered, trying to stop the tears. Charles pulled back with confusion on his face. "Know what?" he asked. "That Lewis was replacing me next year" I stated. He was quite; worst of my fears were coming true all together today. "You knew" I breathed out. My voice breaking as I laughed. "My boyfriend knew I was being fired. Can't believe this" I said running a hand through my hair. "How could you do this to me?" I screamed. "Mon bebe, I didn't know for sure. I had heard rumours" He trailed off. "Yet you said nothing, you could've warned me. Maybe...maybe I could've convinced Fred to keep me" I cried. "You don't know what it's like being a woman in Formula One" I shouted with tears running down my face. "Mon Amor" he whispered trying to hug me. I pushed him away; "Don't...Don't you dare touch me. I don't need your fucking sympathy" I stated turning around to start pacing the room. "Everyone's calling and texting me Charles, what am I supposed to tell them? What am I supposed to tell my parents who put everything on the line to make sure I ended up in Formula One" I rambled. "We'll get through this. I'm sure" he began. "You have nothing to get through Charles, while you can still race in red for Ferrari, I've just lost my seat in Formula One. It was difficult getting here as is; now I need to find a way to stay on the track." I exclaimed. "Mon Coeur, we'll find a way. I'm sure other teams are lining up to sign you" he suggested. I laughed dryly, "I almost lost my chance in Formula One until Ferrari signed me a few years ago. I was on my way out; no race wins, no podiums just sheer determination to stick around. And then like the angels sent from above Ferrari signed me. I was over the moon. I won races, I was able to stand on the podium in Ferrari after 4 years in this sport. You know what it meant to me. I've told you everything, I've been the most vulnerable version of myself with you. Yet, you never told me there were talks to replace me" I mourned.

"World's best boyfriend everyone" I taunted while clapping my hands. "Y/N, this is hard for me too" he said trying to come closer. "No Charles, it's hard for me since I've been fired. You are not the one getting axed." I said finally sitting down. Charles walked towards me crouching down to sit on the floor while holding my hands, "We'll find a way. You're so talented anyone would want you. I'm sure" he proposed. I shook my head while I let the tears fall for the first time. I moved my hands up to wipe my tears, "I don't know what more I could've done to make sure that Fred kept me. I don't know what I could've done to stay" I lamented while rubbing my eyes. Charles moved my hands to cup my cheeks; "You can do it" he said while kissing my lips. "I need to regroup." I thought out loud. The cogwheels in my head started to turn. I wasn't letting them kick me out of the sport I gave my whole live to. I was gonna show them who Y/N Y/L/N was. They were gonna miss the day they messed with me. I picked up my phone and called my team to call for a meeting. My manager and mentor was already on it talking to other teams when I told we need to regroup. I could see a couple texts from Fred which I decided to ignore till I was calmer otherwise I would probably commit murder. While on call with my team, I started packing up my stuff. "Where are you going?" Charles asked while following me. "My teams in Maranello, I'm flying today so that we could start planning." I stated. "You can do that on call" he suggested. "No, I can't. I think I'll go mad if I see you right now" I dejectedly stated. "What why?" he questioned. "Charles, you have everything I've always wanted and everything I just lost in a split second. It'll make me hate you and I don't want that. I love you too much to hurt the either of us." I said while zipping up my bag.

"I'll see you when I'm ready, when I know what I'm gonna do" I said while looking at him. I saw tears pool up in his eyes, "Why are you punishing me?" he asked. "I'm not. It's for the best that I get away from here." I commented. "Je t'aime beaucoup" I whispered in Charles's ear while giving him a hug. "Je t'aime aussi" he whispered back pecking my lips. "I'll miss you. Come back soon. You know, I'll always be here." he said with a another peck on the cheek. "I'm yours forever and always" he said while holding my hands. "I know. I just....... need to get over these shitty thoughts." I said while carrying my bag to the door. "I'll drop you to the airport" he suggested. "No Charles, I need to figure this out on my own. Take care" I said. "Why does this feel like you're breaking up with me?" he cried out. "I'm not. I'm always yours but I need to do this. I need to figure some stuff out and I don't want to hurt you along the way." I said while smiling through the tears. "See you on the track, mon tout" I said while walking out of our shared apartment.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of physical abuse, and prolonged imprisonment.

You learn quickly that Nanami is significantly more bearable with he's playing house.

It should've been more obvious, in retrospect. If you hadn't been so terrified, so desperate not to fall into your captor's domestic delusions, you might've been more able to catch on more quickly, to realize how much softer he was when you treated him like a loving husband, rather than an obsessive stalker who had the nerve to roll his eyes when you asked if he had anything for you to wear that didn't involve bows and frills. You were slow on the uptake, but then again, he wasn't the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve.

His reactions weren't exactly more pronounced when your aggression started to fade, when you realized that he could barely take care of himself, let alone another person. You were skittish, eager to get in and out of the kitchen before he came home, and he was stoic, offering little more than a nod of his head and a muttered 'thank you' when he came home to find a bare-bones meal on the table or his constantly neglected apartment just a little cleaner. It took weeks for him to come to you directly; his suit jacket in one hand and spare button in the other. It should've only taken a minute to mend, but your hands shook so badly that it'd ended up taking ten. He watched over your shoulder all the while - smiling so softly, you'd been able to convince yourself that it was just your imagination.

You pretended that you didn't mind being with him, that the idea of being his stay-at-home hostage didn't make your skin crawl, and in exchange, he let you watch an hour of T.V. once a week, told you how your family and friends were dealing with your sudden disappearance. It wasn't a fair trade, but it was a trade - his domestic bliss for a handful of basic privileges, his happiness for the illusion of your freedom. When you can build up the courage, when you've recovered (or, recovered as much as you can, anyway) from the last time he bent you over his knee, you press for more. And sometimes, it works.

"I missed you," he mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His strong arms are wrapped around your waist, his posture hunched to accommodate the disparity between your heights, and you can feel warm breath on your skin, his deep voice reverberating against your throat.

"Welcome home," you say, because he doesn't like it when you lie and 'I missed you too' might've been the most dishonest thing you could've said. "You should sit down. I just started on dinner, and--"

You pause, cursing under your breath. Nanami is tired enough or kind enough to take the bait. "Make me a list." He pulls you that much closer before straightening his back and kissing your cheek. "I'll run to the store. It's the least I could do, for the only person who manages to keep my head on my shoulders."

You let a second of silence lapse between you, then another. "You know," you manage, eventually, just as Nanami starts to detangle himself from you. "Most couples spend as much time together as they can."

You can practically hear his smile. "You want to go shopping with me?"

"...am I allowed to?"

"Of course." He says it like he hadn't kidnapped you. Like he hadn't kept you locked in his sterile apartment for the better part of a year. Like he hadn't taken you by the neck and promised he'd be the only man to ever touch you again every time you questioned his intentions.

There's another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. Just when you think your heart might beat out of your chest, he adds, "As soon as hell freezes over and curses go extinct, I'll take you wherever you want."

You might've cried, if you didn't know how much he loved wiping away your tears.

Sometimes, it works.

Most of the time, though, he chooses to remind you whose game you're playing.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part VII - Final Part)

Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 13.2 K

Warnings: Angst as usual, Aegon testing my patience, smut, and fluff

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5 Part 6 ... Epilogue

~~

She and Aemond had barely spoken since their fight, the strain between them growing with each passing day.

He was always quick to leave their chambers in the early morning, leaving her to break her fast by herself. 

She didn’t mind, she found she had trouble even meeting his eye without feeling as though her insides were crumbling into dust, reminding her of how easy it would be to lose him. 

It felt like dying a slow, agonizing death. 

The door to their chambers opened and she instinctively perked up at the thought of seeing her husband, despite the warring emotions within her, but she immediately froze, fear rising as Aegon strolled inside as if they were his own chambers. 

He smiled widely at the sight of her and was quick to take a seat beside her, entirely too close for her liking. 

“What are you doing?”

“Joining my sweet sister for breakfast.” Aegon smiled, the gesture anything but innocent as he helped himself to the spread of food in front of him. “Where is my brother?”

“He’ll be back soon.” She answered immediately, as if she could use Aemond’s presence to deter him from staying. But with the way he looked at her intently, it was obvious he didn’t believe her. 

He knew the rift between them kept Aemond out of his chambers for hours on end. 

With a lump in her throat that grew larger and heavier with each second that passed with Aegon beside her, she kept her eyes down, beginning to sparsely pick at her food. 

“You know I never thought much of you.” Aegon began, his gaze never wavering from her tense form that refused to relax in his presence. 

She flinched and jerked away as Aegon’s fingers brushed against her cheek, her breathing becoming heavy as she fought hard not to smack the most powerful man in the realm. 

He smirked at her as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling victorious at the sight of her discomfort. 

“It wasn’t until I saw you bouncing on my brother’s cock…saw this body bare, saw the kind of whore you are, that it felt as though I was truly seeing you for the first time.” He crooned, his fingers tracing down the length of her jaw and down her neck. 

As his fingers trailed downwards, getting close to the dip of her breasts, she finally snapped, her hand shooting out, gripping onto his wrist tightly, desperate to stop him before he could touch her further, in places only her husband had ever touched her. 

“Careful, sister. The punishment for putting your hands on your King could cost you your hand.” Aegon warned, delighting in the fury that crossed her features. “Save that fire for my bed.” 

“I will slit my throat before you could ever take me to your bed.” She told him with a fire in her voice that only made his eyes light with intrigue and delight, knowing he was getting under her skin exactly the way he wanted. 

The door to their chambers opened, Aemond stepping inside wearily, though when he saw Aegon, how close he was sitting to his wife, his wrist encased in her grip, her face drawn tightly with hatred, did cold dread settle over him, washing away any ounce of hesitation he felt to face her and their fight.

“What are you doing here?” He barked at his brother, his face hard with a deadly scowl.

“Just getting to know my future wife.” 

Aemond grit his teeth. It took all of his willpower to not beat his brother into oblivion. 

“Get out.” He ordered sternly, though Aegon only laughed and leaned back in his seat.

“No.”

Aegon’s sharp response had Aemond flinching in surprise, his surprise overtaking his anger for a moment at the presence of his weak brother’s backbone. It seemed that the crown on his head had finally made him unmovable in the face of his younger’s brother’s rage that used to make him cower.

“I am your King, you don’t command me, brother.” 

Aemond, without caring for the consequences or the threat of Aegon’s guards that stood outside the door, stormed forward, grabbing his brother by the shirt and hauling him to his feet, desperate to wrench him away from his wife who watched on with fear. 

“If you have any hope of winning this war, it is because of me and my dragon. You are a drunken idiot that has no idea what it truly takes to rule and if you wish to keep breathing and sitting on that throne you will keep your mouth shut and stay far away from my wife.” Aemond spat darkly, jerking his wastrel of a brother in his harsh grip. 

“I am already a Kinslayer and I will take whatever judgment the Gods give me for sinning again.” Aemond threatened him, his hatred clear. 

Aegon looked back at him with nothing but disdain, hating the fact that he needed Aemond, needed Vhagar, to fight his cause. His harsh glare moved to the woman who remained sitting, watching the brothers with wide, nervous eyes. 

“I will see you soon, Sister.” Aegon drawled out the word as if it were an insult, sneering at her one last time before he shoved his brother off him and made his way out of their chambers, leaving the couple in a tense silence. 

Aemond breathed heavily and turned toward his wife, his eye softening immediately at the sight of her. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.” She spoke quietly. 

Aemond watched her carefully, noting that she had yet to meet his eye. He sighed and sat next to her. The news from the council the previous night that he had yet to tell her weighed on him heavily. 

She had been asleep by the time he returned to their chambers last night and he loathed to wake her, especially for news that would only upset her. 

“We are to go to battle tomorrow.” He finally blurted out. 

His words finally had her gaze rising to meet him, a startled fearfulness growing in her eyes. 

“I am taking Vhagar to Rook’s Rest.” 

She remained quiet as she took in his words, the growing fear inside of her quickly incapacitating her. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, most of them all the ways she could lose him.  

The longer she stayed quiet, the more tense he became. 

“I’ve talked to my mother.” He continued quickly, looking at her hopefully. “She has agreed to let go of the annulment. I’ve asked her to station more guards at the door. A group will be with you any day I’m not here. They will protect you while I’m gone and if I… if anything happens in battle… they will take you home.” 

Her eyes watched him calculatingly, as if she were staring at a stranger and not the man she loved. Her mind was a mess of thoughts, none of which she could really make sense of. 

Her silence rang out in the room loudly, agonizing Aemond. He looked at her intently, pleadingly. 

“Say something, please.” He whispered weakly. 

She let out a long sigh, her face impassive, not revealing any emotion. Even the sight of her husband’s sadness wasn’t enough to sway her. 

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.” He practically begged, her monotonous voice causing an ache to grow within him.

She grit her teeth, looking away from him. “Do you really believe it?”

“What?”

“That your mother is no longer a pawn in that ridiculous plan. That a few more measly guards will protect me from your family. That in the event of your death, I’ll be free to go home and not thrown in the black cells or shackled to Aegon’s bed.”

Aemond flinched at each of her words, looking pained at the reminder of the danger she was in, the danger his own family was placing on her head. 

“You are many things, Husband, but I have never known you to be naive.” 

“I am not naive-”

“You are if you believe I am safe here, especially in your absence.” She interrupted him sharply. “If you were to die in battle, that would be the end of me. No one would take me home, no one would let me live out the rest of my days as a mourning widow, they would have their boots on my neck the minute it was clear you would not be around to protect me.”

Only a stunted breath escaped him, as words were lost to him.

He looked at her pleadingly, but the guilt that lingered in his gaze did not go unnoticed by her and it only served to fuel her anger, knowing that he knew exactly the situation they were in, exactly the hard rock they were pushed up against by his own family.

“They won’t hurt you.” He began and held back a wince as she scoffed and shook her head. “They won’t. I have to believe it.”

“You have to?” She repeated, almost mockingly.

“Yes, because I cannot take another fucking breath if I don’t.” He replied loudly, his desperation, his slipping control clear as he looked at her, his eye wide and brimming with frustration. 

Her expression changed in an instant, the hard front she was portraying shattering the moment she saw how close her husband was to cracking. He had always tried to shield her from the worst parts of him, never wanting her to worry or fuss over him.

It wasn’t often he let her see him falter, but she could see now just how exhausted and broken he was over everything that had happened in the past month. 

She suddenly thought of all the times he had held her, picked her back up when her grief knocked her down, and she struggled to think of the times she was there for him, when he allowed her to be strong for him when he couldn’t.

He didn’t let himself show his weakness, hardly even to her, and it was slowly crushing him. 

“Do you truly have to go tomorrow?” She asked quietly, the fight gone from her voice. 

“I do.” 

There was a hesitation to him, as if he knew it wasn’t a good idea, but didn’t have another choice. He was burdened by the duty he was shackled to, beaten down by the sentiment that had been drilled in him since he was a child.

He felt this was all he could do, simply because his family told him so.

She hated they had such a hold on him, that they held such control over him.

“I will come back.” He told her, looking at her intently, as if he could will her to believe it. 

She just nodded, her throat growing tight with emotion at the thought of how tomorrow could go so wrong, at the thought of losing the one person she cherished with her entire being. The thought of losing him was already unfathomable, but the thought of losing him now, never being able to heal the rift between them was enough to break her. 

He stood, hesitating for a moment, knowing he had to meet with Ser Criston, but wary of leaving his wife, of furthering the divide between them. 

He looked to her longingly, as if he wanted to reach out to her, to kiss her, to lavish his affection on her as he used to, but just couldn’t find the courage to. 

He didn’t know if she even wanted him to, so he settled for a half-hearted nod and a mumble of goodbye before leaving her side once again, feeling as though the cracks in his heart were growing deeper and deeper with each passing day they were fractured.

She remained in his thoughts for the rest of the day, as she always did any moment he was not at her side.

He didn’t see her until that night at the feast Aegon was adamant on hosting. It was more of an excuse for Aegon to lavish in praises for his bravery for their planned battle on the morrow. 

Aemond could only roll his eyes at his brother’s brazen showmanship. 

They would run out of coin soon enough with all the celebrations he’d thrown in the short amount of time he sat on the throne. 

It seemed parties were the only thing Aegon could think to decree during his reign, despite the war that raged. It was a wonder a battle even got planned with his ambivalence for planning anything that didn’t include wine.

He looked to his wife sat by his side, her expression portraying she’d rather be anywhere else. She boredly looked among the dancing couples and reveling Lords who were drinking copiously, their laughter unable to stir a smile of her own. 

Aemond knew better than to ask if she wanted to dance. He knew she would refuse. 

He thought back to that night, the beginning of their divide and wanted to scream and cry all at once for the state of things, for this dreaded feeling of being so far from her in a way he had never experienced before. 

The thought of her not by his side was too terrifying to even imagine. The thought of her willingly separating from him broke his heart and he didn’t know how to react in any way but anger.

She had barely spoken to him since that night and it wasn’t as though he was any more forthcoming in swallowing his pride and apologizing for his anger that had struck her that fateful day.

Next to him, his mother sat, sending him a weak smile. Despite her assurance that she wouldn’t be forcing an annulment, he couldn’t deny that he had trouble believing her, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how agonizing it was to not believe it. So he did what he could to force himself to. 

But he knew he would worry every time he was not at his wife’s side that Aegon would swoop in and use his power to take her from him.

His brother was certainly not above despicable behavior. 

His wife was barely able to look at his family. A curt smile was all she was able to give as they arrived that evening. The only real emotion she had shown was towards Helaena, but even then it was only a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

Aemond was sure it did not go unnoticed how tense the table of royals looked. He could only imagine the gossip that was spreading about them. 

He felt as though he could breathe easier once his mother retired for the night, his view of her irrevocably changed since that meeting. 

He tapped his fingers against the table erratically, stealing another look at his wife. A servant placed a new cup of wine before her and Aemond waved his hand, refusing another cup for himself, it was only making his already churning stomach worse. 

“Are you enjoying the music?” He asked, internally wincing to himself for how awkward he sounded as he tried to engage his wife in conversation. 

“Not particularly.” She answered monotonously. 

Aemond’s lips parted, but no words were found. It felt like talking to a stranger than to the woman he had loved for years.

“Could you two cheer up?” Aegon chastised as he approached the table to fill up his cup. “You look like you’re attending a funeral.” 

Aegon’s attention on her seemed to be the last straw of her already waning patience. With a sigh, she pushed her chair out and stood.

“I’m tired, I’m going to retire for the night.” She explained and left without another word.

Aemond watched her go with a frown. The lack of affection wasn’t something he was used to, not from her at least and it was enough to leave him with a sick feeling in his stomach. 

“She’s become quite frigid.” Aegon noted, not bothering to look at his brother and catch the glare he would surely be sending his way. “Have you stopped fucking her? Is that why she’s become such a surly bitch?” 

Aemond grit his teeth, his hands twitching with the urge to knock his brother’s teeth out. It seemed the drunken idiot had already forgotten about his earlier threat on his life. 

“Well, if she’s not drinking it.” Aegon laughed, grabbing the goblet that sat before his wife’s empty seat, handing it over to some foot soldier from the Lannister army who eagerly swallowed it down in one gulp, the cheering crowd around him growing raucous. 

Aemond could barely contain his annoyance, his desire to leave overwhelming. His fingers tapped at the table incessantly, itching to follow his wife, to be as far from Aegon’s arrogance as he could. 

“Must you look so sullen, brother?” Aegon chastised him.

Meeting the glassy eyes of his drunken brother, Aemond was forced to use all the willpower he possessed to not throw a punch, removing the smug smile from his face. 

“Stop crying over your wife. There are plenty of other women here-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Aemond snapped at him darkly. 

Aegon scoffed, a multitude of insults on the tip of his tongue, but the sound of hacking coughs caught both of their attention. They looked to the Lannister soldier, his eyes wide, his face turning red as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. He clutched at his neck, his body-shaking coughs bringing him to his knees.

The chattering of the crowd ceased, leaving terrified gasps and screams as men quickly surrounded the dying man, surveying for a threat.

Aemond stood from his seat, taking large steps forward, pushing others out of the way. He took in the scene before him with a growing dread. His gaze moved from the man twitching out a last painful breath, blood and bile spilling from his lips, to the empty cup on the ground. 

The cup that was meant for his wife. 

Something broke inside him at the realization. 

He rushed out of the room, elbowing his way past the crowd. He sprinted through the halls, a shrill ringing in his ears, his mind conjuring the horrible sights that he would find. 

What if he wasn’t fast enough this time?

He had already lost his child, he couldn’t lose her. 

The thoughts raced through his mind torturously as he ran, his fear growing with each step. His pulse thundered in his ears, his throat tight as he pictured the gruesome scene waiting for him.

He came to an abrupt stop, almost losing his footing, his chest heaving as he narrowed his gaze on the lone guard at their chamber doors. The man startled slightly at the sudden appearance of the disheveled prince and he bowed, greeting him dutifully. 

“Has anyone been inside?” 

“No, my Prince. Not since your wife.”

He stepped forward purposefully, the adrenaline in his veins and the fear that lingered, causing his hands to tremble. 

“Where’s the rest of you?”

“My Prince?” The guard questioned in confusion.

“Where are the other guards? There’s supposed to be more of you here keeping watch.” He seethed impatiently, the man before him blanching in intimidation.

“I-I’m sorry my Prince. It is only me. I have not heard of any others to be stationed with me.”

Aemond stared the man down angrily, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of. He pushed past the guard and rushed into his chambers, his shoulders sagging immediately, expelling a heavy exhale of relief as he spotted her. 

His wife lay in their bed, fast asleep and unharmed. 

He stepped towards her on weak legs, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to just look at her, to ease his wounded mind. He knew he wasn’t reaching, that what had happened just minutes ago, that man choking on his own blood, was no accident. 

Someone had tried to take her from him, again. 

He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, reveling in the sweet scent of the floral oil she had put in her hair that night. 

“I’ll make it right, I promise.” He whispered into the quiet room, needing to speak the promise aloud, even if she wasn’t awake to hear it. He needed to reassure himself that he could protect her, for he felt as though he had been failing. 

With one last lingering look at her, he stood and stepped out of the room, giving a quick warning to the guard to be on alert as he stomped down the hall. 

He made it to his mother’s chambers, barely acknowledging Ser Criston who stood vigil and stormed inside. 

His mother startled at his abrupt entrance and her face twisted, gearing up to scold him, but she soon noticed the fear in his eye, the lingering fury that made her stiffen.

“What’s happened?” She asked tersely, placing a hand over her racing heart, her stomach churning for what she was about to hear. 

“A man was murdered tonight.” He spoke monotonously. 

“What? Who?” Alicent asked breathlessly. 

“He drank from my wife’s cup. He drank the wine that was meant for her and barely a minute later he was dead.” 

Alicent’s throat went tight, her blood running cold within her veins. She straightened her posture, attempting to remain composed. 

“Rhaenyra and Daemon’s bloodlust knows no bounds.” 

“Where were the guards?” Aemond asked abruptly, glossing over his mother’s comment.

“What guards?” 

“In front of our chambers.” He clarified, his voice hard as stone. “I asked you to assign more, to ensure my wife would be protected. You said you would, but there was only one.”

Alicent’s heart raced wildly within her chest, the rapid rise and fall of her chest visible as she tried hard to settle her breathing. 

“I will have a talk with them. They should have been there.” She answered, the wavering of her voice clear, forcing her to swallow hard in an attempt to get rid of the lump that had grown and threatened to stop her from breathing.

Aemond watched his mother thoughtfully, the sinking feeling he had already been plagued with growing tenfold the longer he watched her, slowly becoming aware of her charade. 

His eyes moved to watch the flames dance in the fireplace, breathing out a long sigh as the thoughts in his head swirled like a hurricane. He wanted to refuse it, to not believe his mother would ever have anything to do with something so sinister, but her entire being portrayed guilt. He knew his family's ambitions made for crass and even sometimes despicable actions, he knew the way of war, he just never expected to fall victim to it at the hands of the ones who should have loved him dearly. 

“I was excited to be a father.” He started quietly, the tension in his body the only sign of the storm silently raging within him. “I knew I would have done anything for my child. They could’ve asked me for the stars and I would have flown on Vhagar in the night and taken every one of them from the sky.” 

The mention of the babe he had lost had Alicent’s chest tightening, her eyes beginning to sting with tears that threatened to give away the turmoil plaguing her. 

“I don’t even have a babe to hold and I know I would have done whatever I could to make them happy.” His voice became stunted, anger tinging the heartbreaking words that kept his emotions on a short tether, the reminder of what he lost, what had been ripped so brutally from him and his beloved. 

His lone eye raised from the fire and landed on his mother who seemed to squirm under his intense gaze. 

“You… you weren’t even trying to keep me from my happiness, you’re trying to rip it right out of my hands.”

Alicent’s breath caught in her throat, her stomach sinking with dread. 

“I don’t know what-”

“You know exactly what I’m speaking of.” He interrupted her angrily, his hands clenched into fists as it took all of his restraint to not lunge at her, having to constantly remind himself that the woman in front of him was his mother.

“Think about what you are accusing me of, it’s absolutely ridiculous.” Alicent screeched, her emotions fraying as she desperately tried to pull her son back to her. 

“You never wanted me to marry her. You wanted to deny me her, you wanted to tear her from me even when you knew she was the only one that truly made me happy.”

Alicent rolled her eyes, her fear quickly shifting into indignation. That Island girl has sunk her claws so deep in her son, she scarcely recognized him anymore. 

“The only one?” She questioned, almost sarcastically. “After everything I’ve done and you still don’t see that it was all for you, for our family.” 

Aemond let out a bitter sounding laugh, a sound that would have sent chills down the spine of a lesser man. 

“Tell me, Mother, when exactly were you thinking about my happiness? When you tried to force an annulment from the woman I love or when you tried to murder her?” 

Alicent’s voice caught in her throat. Each word was like a slap to the face. The guilt churned in her stomach so violently she thought she was going to be sick. 

“I know grandsire’s ambitions would have retribution, but I never thought you would bend to them at the expense of your children.”

Alicent sunk back in her chair, the fight swept from her as she realized Aemond was not going to budge an inch. She picked at the skin by her nails anxiously, her teeth biting her bottom lip incessantly as her heart raced. 

“We needed to help Aegon’s cause.”

The whispered words were all the confession he needed to hear. 

Aemond fumed silently, his jaw clenching so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t crack any of his teeth. His first thought was that he couldn’t believe his own mother would do this to him, to break him into disrepair by taking his wife from him, but as he remembered the forced annulment, he soon realized he didn’t really know his mother at all. 

“We know what Rhaenyra would do to us once she sat on the throne. I had to protect you, I did what I could so our family would survive.”

Aemond scoffed bitterly. He too once thought his life would be forfeit once his half-sister rose to power, but the longer he thought of it over the years, the more he spoke of those fears with his wife, the more he realized how unfounded they had been. 

“You really think my father-by-law would allow that to happen? Ixtal is King’s Landing’s greatest importer, you think Rhaenyra would risk the entirety of the realm, her position as ruler, just to do away with siblings she could not spare a second thought for?” 

“You don’t know that!” Alicent yelled, becoming desperate as she felt as though her son was slipping through her fingers.

Aemond sighed and stood from his chair, heading towards the door, but Alicent’s sobs stopped him as she begged him not to go.

“Aemond, you have to understand.” She cried. “I had to do what I could to keep you safe. You will see that one day, you will see that I only did what I thought was right for our family.”

To hear her speak of the life of his wife, his greatest love, as nothing more than collateral made him feel sick, his disdain growing even further. 

“I hope you will see one day that your ambition is what ruined this family.” 

With those final words, he left, leaving his mother to sob in solitude. He numbly walked back to his chambers, the look in his mother’s eyes haunting his mind. 

It wasn’t until he was behind the closed door of his chamber, standing in the dark room that he allowed himself to release a shuddering breath, his throat tightening as it all caught up to him. 

His mother’s betrayal was like a dagger to the stomach, letting the wound bleed until there was nothing left of him. 

His gaze fell on his sleeping wife and the dam broke. Tears fell from his eyes as he realized how close he had been to losing her and by the hands of his own family. It was enough to undo him completely. 

He knelt at her bedside, unable to stop the tears that fell. His lip trembled, shaking breaths escaping him as he clutched to her hand. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered weakly. 

She stirred and blinked her weary eyes open, frowning immediately as she noticed the tears her husband was shedding.

“Aemond? What happened?” She asked tiredly, propping herself up on her elbow as she intertwined their fingers. 

“I didn’t protect you.” He whispered, his voice tight with tearful emotion.

“What are you talking about?”

“The second this war started, I should’ve done something. I knew you weren’t safe here, I knew you weren’t safe with them and I didn’t do anything. I’m so sorry, issa prūmia, please forgive me.” 

“Aemond…” She was stunned, watching as her husband, the stoic man she knew, broke into pieces before her. 

She laid her hand over his that held her other tightly, caressing gentle touches over his hardened knuckles. 

“Darling, there’s nothing to forgive.” She assured him, but the look on his face remained tortured. 

He sniffled and wiped his tears forcefully, tearing his hand from hers and he got to his feet, making his way across their chambers to her wardrobe. 

“I’m getting you out of here.” He spoke, his voice now full of determination.

“What?”

“It’s not safe for you here. You’re going back to Ixtal.”

Her heart jumped in her chest, it was everything she had wanted since this war started, but she couldn’t ignore the lingering dread that settled within her like lead, realizing what it would mean for them. The thought of separating from him was unbearable. 

“I’m not leaving without you.” She spoke forcefully, standing from the bed, her eyes hardened as she stared back at her husband. 

She knew it was a big ask to leave his family and his home for her, but circumstances were different now. She had already lost so much, she wasn’t going to lose him too, she certainly wasn’t going to let his family take advantage of her absence and shackle him to another woman. 

Aemond swallowed thickly and stepped towards her, his hands cradling her face gently as he revered her with nothing but adoration, his decision made in a split second.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but by your side.”��

Her face softened, emotions swelling, tightening her throat. 

“What happened?” She asked quietly. His change of heart was unexpected and the state of him she had woken to was more than concerning. It wasn’t often he let himself feel his emotions, except anger of course, and it was upsetting to say the least.

Aemond seemed to shudder at her question, his eyes holding a faraway look that seemed tortured. 

“Not yet.” He said, his voice barely audible. He would tell her everything once they were safe, once they were far from King’s Landing and his scheming family. “Pack your things, we need to be quick and leave before the light.” 

She nodded and rushed to her wardrobe, hauling out as many dresses as she could carry and tossed them on the bed. A sudden realization came to her, igniting her worries once more.

“Wait, Aemond.” She spoke up frantically. “Helaena and the children. We can’t leave without them, they’re not safe here.”

Aemond’s entire being softened. Helaena and her children were the only ones, outside of her, that he cared about above anyone else and her care for them, her willingness to accept them as her own warmed his heart, only confirming to him that he was making the right decision.

His mother’s betrayal stung, it festered in him like a disease that threatened to spread and ruin him, but he pushed it down. He would feel the heartbreak when they were safe in Ixtal.

It didn’t take long for them to pack their meager belongings. They didn’t need to take much, there wasn’t much of anything with sentimental value he would miss. He just needed his wife at his side. 

They traveled through the hidden halls, quickly coming to the entrance of Helaena’s room. Aemond pushed the entrance open slowly, wincing at the noise, hoping he wasn’t about to scare his sweet sister.

He was soon shocked, flinching back as he met the awaiting eyes of his sister, her children cradled to her sides, bags at their feet.

“Is it time?” 

“What- Helaena…”

“We are leaving, are we not?” 

“Well… yes, but-”

“Let’s go. We shouldn’t waste any more time.” She smiled warmly, placing her hand on her brother’s cheek briefly before moving towards her friend, wrapping her up in a tight hug, her gratitude overflowing from her. “I knew you would be our saving grace.”

The whispered words of the Princess left her shocked. She had to shake herself of her surprise and hauled Jaehaerys into her arms. With Helaena carrying Jaehaera, their bags secured with Aemond leading them, they were on their way. His hand fluttered towards the sword at his hip every so often, senses sharp and at the ready for anything and anyone that dared to stop them.

It didn’t take long to get to the Dragon Pit.

“I’ll meet you outside with Vhagar.” Aemond assured her and with one last squeeze of her hand, he was gone. 

Her heart was in her throat, her palms sweating with nerves as she helped strap the children’s bags to Dreamfyre’s saddle. Once Helaena was seated on her dragon, she helped Jaehaera up and strapped her in. 

“It’s alright, my Darlings.” Helaena cooed to her children who were quiet and sullen with fright. “We’re going to a beautiful place where we’ll be safe.” 

“Is father coming too?” Jaehaera asked quietly and Helaena shook her head, almost seemingly delighted to share the news of the absence of their father. But the child just nodded and whispered ‘good’. 

She repressed a shudder. She didn’t want to think of the neglect Aegon had forced on his children. She swept Jaehaerys up into her arms once again, her heart aching as he nuzzled into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. 

“You like to swim, don’t you, Jae?”

He nodded against her and she smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair soothingly.

“I know where to find the most beautiful beaches. You’ll get to swim in the bluest water you’ve ever seen where the fish swim between your toes and jump out of the water to greet you.”

“Will you show me?” 

She smiled and nodded. “I’ll take you there myself.” 

With the assurance, he loosened his grip on her, more at ease. A distant roar caught their attention, the familiar sound of Vhagar. With one last look to Helaena, silently assuring her that she would keep her son safe, she slipped out of the Dragon Pit, hurrying her way up the hill where Vhagar rested. 

Her hope spiked, her fear receding slightly as she spotted Aemond atop his dragon. Their escape was imminent. No one would stop them now, not when they had Vhagar to face. 

She helped Jaehaerys climb up into the waiting arms of his uncle who strapped him in carefully. She climbed, her movements familiar use, not something she’d ever thought she would say in relation to dragon riding, but Aemond had been insistent over the years of his two favorite girls bonding. 

She used to roll her eyes at him, but now she couldn’t have been more thankful. 

As she settled herself, her heart sped, uncertainty suddenly overtaking her adrenaline, the gravity of their actions soon crashing into her overwhelmingly. She placed her hand over Aemond's, stopping him before he could grasp the reins. 

“Aemond,” She spoke, her voice tight as her mind raced. “You have to be sure, entirely sure, that this is what you want.” 

He sighed, as if disappointed by her hesitation, believing he would ever second guess the decision to run away with her, to keep her safe. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He assured her, tilting her chin with his finger so she was looking at him head on. “I promised you, didn’t I? We’re going to Ixtal where we’ll grow old and raise our children.” 

His words, which were once said in the comfort of their sheets, their love nothing more than a secret from the rest of the realm, soothed every ounce of insecurity that had crept through her veins. 

She breathed out in relief and leaned forward, kissing him swiftly. 

Dreamfyre’s roar broke them apart and they watched as Helaena took flight with her daughter. 

“Are you ready, Jae?” 

The child nodded eagerly to his uncle and leaned back into his aunt’s arms, holding tightly to her as the mighty dragon below them rumbled and stretched her wings, taking to the skies with ease. 

The moonlight was their only guide in the dead of night. It wasn’t until they settled high in the sky, covered by the clouds, easy on their course, did she finally let herself relax. She leaned back into the strong chest behind her, her husband’s hand leaving the reins to wrap around her, securing herself to his front, his forehead rested against hers, a look of nothing but pure contentment on his face, a far cry from the scowl that had been securely etched onto his features for months. 

She knew his decision to leave could not have been easy and she was terrified to hear what had happened, what the final straw was to get him to agree to leave the place he called home, to leave his mother behind.

She leaned into him, as if needing his comfort from the mere thought of what transpired to make him turn his back on the woman that raised him.

Aemond held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her, his eye falling closed in fulfillment at the feel of her skin under his fingertips. Even the brush of her hair against his face in the wind was the greatest thing he could have ever felt. 

She was all he needed. 

A weight was lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe easier the farther they flew from King’s Landing. His family’s schemes, his mother’s betrayal, Aegon’s threats, they all seemed to melt away as the distance grew between them. 

The sun was just beginning to rise as they spotted the shores of Ixtal. 

Warmth bloomed within her at the sight of her home, knowing she was only minutes from reuniting with her family. 

She felt jittery, anxious excitement taking over every inch of her as they landed on the shores. A slew of guards were already waiting for them on the shores, the dragons having been spotted in the distance and causing mayhem in fear of a potential attack. 

Among the pointed spears and swords, she spotted her father’s face. She breathed shakily, eagerly undoing the straps around her waist, charging down from Vhagar’s back despite Aemond’s protests. 

She didn’t care for safety, she didn’t care for decorum. She charged towards the group of guards who soon lowered their weapons at their leader’s cries for a cease. Her father pushed the guards out of his way, coming to the front of the blockade, the sight of her causing tears to brim in his eyes. 

Barely a second later, she was in his arms, the force of her embrace almost knocking him off his feet. 

“You’re here.” He breathed out, holding tightly to his beloved daughter with a force that could only be portrayed by that of a father with a heavy heart. “How are you here? I haven’t heard from you in weeks, we thought-”

His words stopped as he noticed Aemond’s presence over her shoulder. His brows furrowed at the sight of the young child in his arms, his confusion only furthered as Princess Helaena stepped forward, another child in her arms. 

“You brought an entourage?”

Her face turned serious, worrying him immediately.

“Father, we… we’re seeking refuge from King’s Landing. It’s no longer safe for us there.”

He looked at his daughter incredulously, sensing there would be a long story to come. He nodded stiffly, having trouble tearing his eyes away from his daughter, his little girl he had been fraught with worry over the past moons.

A yell of her name sounded, catching their attention. Her face smoothed out, her worry disappearing as a bright smile grew. 

“Mother!” She called out, racing past her father and the litany of guards still standing at attention to seek out her mother who had raced out of the palace at the sight of the dragons, her arms open and ready for her daughter. 

Aemond watched, an ease settling over him as he saw her smile again, that bright, wondrous sight that could only assure him he had done the right thing. 

The Lord of Ixtal stepped forward, sending a polite smile to Helaena and eyeing the children with a soft gaze.

“Come, you must be exhausted from your journey.” He motioned them forward, allowing Helaena to lead, hand in hand with her twins, the two men settling in a matching pace side by side. “I knew you were the right man for the job.”

Aemond looked at the man beside him questioningly. 

“I knew you would keep my daughter safe. I never had any doubt.”

The young prince seemed to deflate under the praise. The guilt that had been festering within him unfurled, overtaking him so powerfully, he stopped walking.

“I didn’t- there was… it was too close-”

“Aemond,” His father-by-law placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “You’re here. You brought her home, safe and sound.”

“But I couldn't-”

“You are one man. You cannot fight the entire world of enemies alone, especially not when they are your own family.”

Aemond’s eye widened, looking perplexed by his words. The Lord just smiled sadly and shook his head.

“I had my suspicions from the start. I knew they didn’t want you to marry her, I knew their ambitions would become too great.”

Aemond just nodded stiffly, the words getting caught in his throat, not yet able to voice just what his family, his own mother, had done. 

“You’re a good man, Aemond. I hope you’ll be happy here.” 

“I will be.” He spoke, his voice laced with conviction, as if there were no doubts in his mind about his life now that he was standing on the sandy beaches of Ixtal, his future no longer out of his own control.

They stepped into the palace, his eyes finding her immediately. Her mother left her daughter’s side, coming towards him, a tearful smile gracing her features. 

Before he could say a word, she wrapped him in a tight hug. 

“Thank you.” She whispered to him, the words and the affectionate gesture plucking at his weakest points. The affection of a mother, a caring and kind soul, reminding him of what he had just lost, what he had purposefully stepped away from.

But it had never been like this. Alicent had never held him this tight, he had never felt love from his mother in a single touch, not like he was now from a woman he had met only a handful of times before. 

“You three look like you have hiked through the seven hells and back. Why don’t you rest for a while longer, we can talk later.” Her mother suggested. 

Helaena was guided to her new chambers for her and the children, her smile wide, no trace of derision from her escape. She seemed all too happy to be back to the place she had fallen in love with in that first visit years ago.

Aemond let his wife lead him to her old childhood chambers. 

He stepped in, taking in a deep breath, letting the events of the night roll off his back. He looked at the dried flowers and childhood drawings that lined the walls, some hers, some her siblings that had been gifted to her years ago that she couldn’t bear to part with. 

Her sentimental heart never failed to warm his own. 

As he set their bags down, his gaze fell to the view of the horizon from the balcony, picturing the chaos that would be ensuing across the sea in King’s Landing as their absence was discovered. 

He thought of his mother and the state she would be in once she realized both he and Helaena were gone, her grandchildren safe from their clutches. 

He let out a shaking breath and barely a second later, arms were winding around his waist. He hummed a grateful sounding noise, placing a hand over her clasped ones at his front.

“What are you thinking about?”

“They’ll send search parties.” He mused, his mind beginning to conjure the many ways his brother and grandsire could ruin the peace they tried to find for themselves.

“My father will handle it.” She assured him. “Besides, no one would dare try to force Vhagar away from here.” 

He smiled, his eyes falling to his mighty dragon that was basking in the sun, her wings fluttering in the waves that crashed onto the shore, her rumbles of contentment echoing up to their room. He looked over his shoulder at his wife, the warm feeling in chest growing at the sight of her, the ease she now carried around her.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes softened, a small smile growing. “I think I should be saying that to you.”

He had a million things he wanted to say but no idea how to say them. So he settled for kissing her softly, hoping it conveyed every ounce of love and adoration he held for her, the thanks he wanted to bestow upon her for saving his life, for saving his sister and her children. 

He pulled away regretfully, letting his forehead rest against hers as he thought over how close he had come to losing her just hours ago, causing tears to brim in his eye.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, emotion welling his throat yet again. 

Her brows furrowed, not used to seeing him break as he was now, as he did just hours ago. 

“I haven’t been a good husband.” 

“Aemond-”

“I haven’t.” He spoke again, interrupting her attempt to soothe him. “I didn’t listen, I thought I could fight against everything alone. I pushed you away and I hurt you.” 

She watched him carefully, noting the guilt that seemed to seep out of every inch of him. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it all, I swear.” He whispered frantically, as if he was desperate for her to believe him, as if she had any doubt. 

“What happened?” She questioned again, looking at him worriedly, but he shook his head, pushing the thought of this mother, of that man choking on his own blood, from his mind. 

“Not yet.” He whispered again, not yet ready to reveal to her the threat on her life, not wanting to break the peace they’d finally found after months of such heart-breaking tension. 

She was in his arms, they were safe, his sister and her children were safe. That was all that mattered. 

He kissed her again, this time firmer, more sure of himself. After tumultuous weeks of grieving and then spite between them, they hadn’t been close like this in ages. It had been too long since he had made love to his sweet wife. 

She melted into him, the feel of his hands on her, his lips against hers so desperately, was enough to heal the wounds in her heart the war had caused. 

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered as he planted kisses down the slope of her neck. “You are so wonderful, so kind. You have the most perfect, golden heart.” 

He lavished praise as his hands untied the laces of her gown, his lips finding their place over her racing heart, the heart that had given him so much love, enough to heal a boy doomed from the start. 

They moved slowly, treasuring each gentle caress and loving kiss as they stripped themselves bare. The waking nightmares they had been faced with in King’s Landing melted into nothing but old memories in the wake of their embrace. 

For so long, after the attack and losing their child, she had felt so disconnected to her own body. Now, as Aemond kissed every inch of her, as his hands roamed the familiar curves of her body, she felt she was finally herself again. 

She had spent too long watching her husband succumb to who his family wanted him to be. It made her determined to remind him why she loved him, how much she cherished him. 

Her hand slithered down the strong planes of his chest, his breath hitching as it traveled lower and lower until she gently grasped his stiff length in her hand that twitched with desire under her touch. 

Breaths left him in desperate pants as she stroked him, her touch familiar yet so missed. He repressed a shiver as she quickened her pace, her eyes watching him intently, the sight of his pleasure a welcome reprieve to how tightly wound she’d seen him for months. 

He moaned and quickly grabbed her hand, stopping her motions. He would not spill too early, before he even had the chance to bring her pleasure. 

She squealed in surprise, her laugh ringing out in the room as he picked her up and eagerly carried her to the bed. Her delighted giggles continued as she fell back on the soft mattress below her, biting her lip and practically writhing at the heated look from the man above her. 

She reached up, taking his eye patch off and tossing it to the side, needing to see all of him.

Aemond wasted no time, he couldn’t go another second without her. He spread her legs and kneeled before her, his mouth devouring her with a fervor of a man starved, moaning at the delectable taste of her.

She cried out, her hand falling to his head, tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling with each deliberately devastating stroke of his tongue. 

Her body was powerless against him, a litany of praise falling past her lips without her knowledge, mindlessly calling out to him, divulging every ounce of her love for him, both cursing and acclaiming his tongue and his ability to render her completely mindless. 

He growled against her, the sound of his name spoken so breathlessly, so desperately, quickly becoming his undoing. He quickened his pace, his need to push her over the edge growing as his own desires did.

She almost screamed, her back arching as he added his fingers, curling them in just the way he knew would drive her crazy. 

Her hands twisted into the sheets below her, her legs beginning to quiver from their place over his shoulders as he worked her to the cusp of ecstasy. 

“Aemond!” She cried out as his wicked tongue and fingers brought her to a blinding peak. 

She panted heavily, her limbs still trembling from the force of her release, barely able to comprehend the heated kiss Aemond pressed to her lips, the taste of her on his tongue making her moan. 

The soft sound turned into another high pitched cry as he entered her slowly, a shuddering breath falling past his own lips as they joined for the first time in months. He stilled, needing a moment before he lost his composure completely. 

He gazed at her below him, his lone eye shining, the love he felt for her in that moment suddenly overwhelming. He ducked his head into the crook of her neck, squeezing his eye shut as her hand caressed through his hair, her soft lips brushing against his temple. 

“It’s alright.” She whispered. “I’m here. I won’t ever be parted from your side.” 

Her words, as if she knew exactly what had happened just hours ago, the attempt on her life on the orders of his own family, were the salve to the torment running through his head since he learned of the threat against her. 

He raised his head, kissing her firmly, his tongue tangling with hers, desperate for her touch, her taste, every inch of her. 

“No one will ever take you from me.” He spoke softly, though the air of determination surrounding his words did not go unnoticed, whether to reassure her or himself he wasn’t sure. 

His hips began to move rhythmically, thrusting in and out of her gently, as if it were their first time again. 

She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hands gripped onto his back, feeling his muscle ripple under his skin as he moved. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly as he made love to her as if he were afraid to break her, afraid to cause her any more harm than what she had endured since the war started. 

“Aemond,” She breathed out, leaning upwards, her nose brushing against his as she brushed her lips against his. “I’m ok. You can go faster, I can take it.” 

His face twisted, memories of the night of the attack, of her screams and cries of agony, of how close she had been last night to succumbing to the war. The thoughts were torturous. 

“I can’t-” He choked out, his jaw clenching, his brows furrowed as if he were in pain himself. “I can’t hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know you would never.” She assured him, her hands cradling his face as she looked at him intently, pure trust and love echoing through her eyes. 

He exhaled loudly, allowing his pace to quicken slightly, the moan she let out like music to his ears, soothing every ounce of his worry. 

“I trust you.” She whispered and his resolve shattered completely in an instant. 

He whimpered and began to thrust into her harder, his movements becoming more assured, his hunger for her reaching its peak, his hips now crashing against hers purposefully, moans falling freely from his lips as she cried out at every hard thrust, his cock hitting that place inside her that made her writhe against him.

Her noises were beautiful, they sent shivers down his spine, made his head spin in that delightful way only she could give him. He never liked to feel as though he wasn’t in control, but with her he welcomed the feeling. 

She was the only one he felt safe around to let himself feel it. 

He gripped onto her thigh, hiking it higher on his hip, allowing him to reach deeper inside her, her name like a desperate prayer on his lips as he felt himself nearing his end. It had been too long and he was no match for her perfect body. 

He brought his hand down, his thumb brushing against her clit, desperate to bring her with him. It didn’t take long until she trembled against him, her nails digging into his back, her head thrown back against the sheets as she cried out loudly. 

The feeling of her tightening around him and the sight of her lost in pleasure beneath him undid him effortlessly. He gasped, his movements becoming more frantic in his end, frantic groans following with each of his movements. It hit him like a wave, crashing over him all at once. He cried out, a sound more desperate than she had ever heard from him, his body stiffening before falling lax as he came hard. 

His eye fell shut as the haze of pleasure overtook him. He breathed harshly, letting the aftershocks of bliss roll through his shaking limbs. Her hands brushing his hair out of his face brought him back into the present.  

His eye fluttered open, meeting the eyes of the woman below him, her easy, pleasure filled smile bringing one of his own.

He leaned down, kissing her softly. Silently vowing to himself that he would never let anything threaten her life again, not as long as he lived, that he would never bring her pain ever again. 

He held her tightly, breathing out a long, drawn out breath, expelling every bit of the bitter anger and betrayal that clung to him. 

As he lay beside her, his softening length still buried inside her, the blissful touch of her hand running through his hair, he listened to the waves outside the open balcony doors, the calls of seabirds reminding him of where he was, where he would spend the rest of his days with her by his side.

It brought him more peace than he ever could have imagined. 

~~

With Aemond’s absence, and subsequently Vhagar’s absence from the frontlines, the Greens quickly succumbed to the Blacks. 

She held tightly to Aemond’s hand as her father read outloud the letter sent from Rhaenyra who now sat the throne. He gave no reaction as he heard of Otto’s execution, of Aegon’s demise in the black cells. He barely twitched as he heard his mother was to be sequestered in the Red Keep, forced to live out the rest of her life in solitude. 

The only emotion he showed was the breath he let out when he heard Daeron was to remain in Oldtown, with strict orders never to return to King’s Landing. He was thankful his younger brother never played a role in the war, that his life was spared from a gruesome fate. 

Helaena looked forlorn, her eyes cast down to her hands that fidgeted in her lap. She left for a reason, she had escaped with her children, an act she would never regret, but it didn’t lessen the unease in her heart.

She always knew this was how it would end. 

The knowledge that Aegon would never touch her again was a shining ray of light in the storm of dark clouds that was the news of the demise of her family. 

They were dismissed quickly, her mother throwing her a wary look as Aemond practically sprinted from the room as if it were deprived of air he desperately needed. 

She walked at a slow pace, knowing he’d need a few minutes to himself to take in the news. Making her way through the gardens, she knew exactly where he’d be, where he often found himself in moments of deep thoughts and contemplation. 

She knew he didn’t regret leaving, but some days the decision was harder to swallow than others. 

Within a few minutes, she found him sitting on the bench in front of the billowing willow tree, the place they had first spoken, the place he had complimented her drawings, the place where she had made him laugh as if they were old friends rather than new acquaintances. 

He didn’t look up as she approached. 

The only indication he gave to her presence was the long breath he let out as she took a seat next to him. 

“I’m fine.” He spoke impatiently, as if to assure her so he could be left to his torturous solitude.

“You know I don’t believe that.” She admonished softly, making no move to leave. 

His foot tapped erratically against the stone below him, his teeth biting his bottom lip, his shoulders hunched, the very picture of discontent. Frowning, she placed her hand on his arm, sliding down the length of his tense muscles until she found his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling.”

“I can’t quite make sense of it myself.” He admitted quietly.

“I know you’re not happy Rhaenyra is on the throne-”

“I don’t care about that.” He spoke abruptly, his tone becoming sharp. “Our lives would have been much easier if that damned chair didn’t exist.”

She knew since coming to Ixtal, after the month of peace they’d had without his family breathing down his neck, forcing his every move, he could breathe easier. But it was still his family, his own brother and grandsire who had perished in the war. 

“Aemond,” She began softly. “Talk to me, please.”

“I know what my brother was. I won’t pretend to mourn him.” 

“You do not have to.” 

His eyes held a vacant look, as he retreated into the mess of thoughts in his head. He knew what his grandsire had done, the game he had played long before he had even been born. He knew the retribution Otto faced was well deserved. 

It didn’t cause him much grief. 

It was the thought of his mother that left his insides twisting in a way he hadn’t anticipated. 

“It doesn’t seem like enough.” He whispered, his words almost lost to the wind. 

“What doesn’t?”

“She tried to take you from me yet she lives.” 

Her breath caught in her throat. She had never had a close bond with Aemond’s mother but after she had been told what had happened that fateful night they left, what caused her husband’s tears, her view of Alicent had been forever changed. 

Aemond held tightly to her hand, as if saying the words aloud were too much to handle. 

He let out a shaking breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, he could feel a headache coming on, one that was all too familiar when it came to the derision his family caused him. 

“It does not seem a fitting punishment yet I’m… relieved. I don’t think I truly want her dead.”

Aemond didn’t know what to make of what he felt for his mother. He was angered she still drew breath yet relieved she hadn’t been killed brutally by Rhaenyra, yet he still couldn’t stomach the thought of her, not after what she’d done. 

“Of course you don’t. No matter what she’s done, she’s still your mother.” 

He thinks to himself that he doesn’t deserve her, this wonderful woman in front of him, the only one to truly see him. 

When he lies with his wife, when he sees her beautiful smile, when he feels her touch on his skin, he thinks he’d be content if his mother never saw the light of day again, yet deep down, the guilt festers. 

He was the reason their side lost. His departure was the sole reason Aegon and Otto are dead, the reason his mother is confined for the rest of her days. 

He can’t find himself regretting his actions, knowing the outcomes, yet he can’t help but feel as though he had failed his family. 

The sense of duty they had instilled in him was screaming, raging at him for what he had done. But he wasn’t that man they raised him to be. 

He was the man who fell in love with his best friend. He was the man who finally felt love as a child from a girl who tried endlessly to get him to see the beauty in himself and the world around him. 

The part of him that felt guilty for his mother was soon crushed out by the love he held for his wife. When he looked at her, he realized no one had ever truly cared for him but her. No one had ever had his best interest at heart except her. 

He squeezed her hand in his, finally letting his gaze reach hers, the concern in her eyes melting a part of him that desperately needed to be melted. 

“I don’t regret a single moment with you.” He tells her, the look in his eye now soft, no longer shrouded in agony and confusion. 

She smiles softly, still worried for him, worried for what the news would cause him. 

“Aemond-”

“I just want to think about our future.” He interrupted, knowing exactly what fears lay on her tongue, fearing much of the same for himself. 

But he would cross that bridge when he came to it. He would feel the moments of guilt, of relief, of whatever other emotion his family would cause him, as they came. 

He didn’t fear what he would feel because he knew the woman he loved would be there to soothe him in every one of those dark moments. His family, though they may try, couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“I want to raise our children here, where they won’t know any pressures of the court or successions, of war or conflict.” 

“Are you sure you don’t-”

“Protecting you was and will always be my number one priority.” He assured her before she could even voice her question about his regret. 

Her smile was much more genuine, his words soothing the anxiety she felt at his reaction. He felt himself smile at the sight before him, eased merely by her presence.

He leaned in, kissing her softly, letting his forehead rest against hers.

“You were always my purpose.” 

His whispered words were assurances they both clung to in the face of uncertainty. 

Tension would always exist as long as their enemy sat on the throne, but they were content, miles away, across the sea where their love flourished, where they would start their family.

No one would take that away from them.

~~

A year had passed peacefully. No further word from King’s Landing came. Helaena and her children thrived in the beauty that was Ixtal. The eccentric Princess made many friends with the ladies in court, finally feeling as though she could be herself without judgment, without fearing retribution or gossip. She no longer felt the pressure to be the perfect image of a Targaryen Princess. 

Aemond had quickly found his place alongside her younger brother in leading the city watch. He melded into his new life with an ease she hadn’t expected. 

Her own father accepted Aemond into their council, his voice soon becoming a valuable and respected asset to the island and its governance with most of the realm. 

Their new life was everything they wanted. 

Until the day their past caught up to them. 

“My Lady?” She looked up to notice her guard approaching, a nervous expression painting his features. “A dragon has been spotted approaching our shores. Shall I request your husband?”

Her face was drawn tightly and she shook her head brusquely. She knew exactly who would be accosting them.

“No, I will handle it.” 

She walked determinedly to the throne room, her guard following behind her worriedly.

“Where is my father?”

“In a council meeting.”

“And my husband is with him?”

“Yes, my Lady.” 

“Good.” She breathed out. She didn’t need either of them catching wind of their guest’s arrival and causing a stir. “You are dismissed.” She spoke to her guard whose eyes widened at the command, his mouth opening to refuse, but she gave him a pointed look.

“I can handle this, Ser Jerrod.” 

The guard sighed defeatedly and gave her a look of resignation.

“I am telling your husband of your orders when he comes to punish me.” 

Aemond had developed quite the reputation of being protective of his wife, the guards were terrified to obey her orders when they knew they would face the ire of her dragon husband. 

“I will take the blame, I promise you.” She assured him with a smirk. 

As her guard left, leaving her alone in the throne room, she let out a long breath, her heart racing as she prepared herself for what she would soon face. 

Only minutes later, the great doors opened and Queen Rhaenyra entered, her face hardened, bitter anger in her eyes. 

Her steps faltered, her powerful pace slowing as she met the eyes of the person she had least expected. 

Rhaenyra spoke her name slowly, her entire demeanor changed, abruptly thrown off from her course of murderous rage that darkened her thoughts, that prompted her abrupt arrival. 

She breathed deeply, straightening her posture as she steeled her expression, putting on the mask of anger back into place.

“I’m sure you know why I am here.”

“I do.” She answered Rhaenyra cooly, her posture relaxed, an exact contrast from the woman before her who looked as though she was unraveling. 

The dark circles under her eyes did not go unnoticed. 

“I need to see Aemond.”

“That’s not going to happen, Rhaenyra, you know that.”

“He needs to pay for what he did.” The woman spoke through gritted teeth, angry tears filling her eyes. 

She stared at the woman, the Queen, before her for a few long seconds, taking in her state of weariness with a heavy sigh, which only seemed to upset Rhaenyra further, her face turning red, her jaw clenching as she took a mighty step towards her.

“He killed my son!”

“And you killed mine!” She yelled back, matching her with the ferocity only a devastated mother could have. 

The reminder of what Rhaenyra agreed to, what she allowed Daemon to do, made her face crumble, her eyes falling to the floor, refusing to meet the gaze of the woman in front of her, the woman she had made lose everything. 

She never wished the loss of a child on any woman, yet here she was, standing face to face with the woman with whom she had directly caused the greatest sorrow. 

“Gods, Rhaenyra, do you think yourself innocent, do you think you are absolved of punishment from your place in this war?”

“I know I am not.” She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I did not start this. Your husband must pay for what he has done.”

“My husband does not hold this blame alone. This war would’ve happened no matter who laid the first blow, you know that.”

“They usurped my crown!”

“Yet you sit on the throne and the only reason you do is because Aemond chose to step down from the fight.” 

Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, the fury in her eyes taking over her grief. 

“You did not come here to wager about succession.”

“No, I came to kill my brother.” Rhaenyra stated simply, her glare deepening when the woman in front of her scoffed.

“Aemond is under Ixtal’s protection. He has no governance under the crown.”

“Your father is an honorable man, he will do what is right-”

Her sarcastic laugh stopped Rhaenyra mid sentence, the older woman scowling at the young woman before her with blooming hatred.

“My father does not know all the details about what happened that night in King’s Landing, why I was attacked, how I lost my baby. If he knew it was you and Daemon that orchestrated it, that you were the reason he lost his grandchild, no force in this realm could save you.” She threatened, delighting in the way Rhaenyra shrunk under her pointed words. 

“Your position is tentative, Rhaenyra. Most of the realm despises you, especially after this senseless war. The smallfolk in King’s Landing are starving, the Lords of great houses are fed up with your trade arrangements, raising taxes, abandoning treaties.” She started, her voice low with animosity that steadily grew with each passing second she stood before her.

Rhaenyra looked surprised by what she knew, the details that hounded her night after night, the reason she was berated practically daily in court by smallfolk and Lords alike. 

“Most leaders in this realm hate you, you have little support anymore. If my father were to break tradition and take a stand against your position, how many houses do you think would remain loyal to you?”

Rhaenyra remained silent, her face twisted with disdain, mostly because she knew she had no argument. 

“If you threaten my husband, if you plan some heinous attack on his life, if you darken Ixtal with your presence again, I will tell my father the role you played in my attack and nothing will stop him from marching to the gates of King’s Landing, with the support of the entire realm behind him.” She warned darkly. “Don’t forget, we’re the reason you still have food on your plates. You shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

“Who do you think you are to threaten me? I am your Queen.” Rhaenyra raged, losing what little control she had left. 

“You think you can threaten me?” She countered. “That’s what you came here for, wasn’t it? To exert what little power you have left to boost your ego, to enact revenge for a bitter fight you caused.”

Rhaenyra flinched, her face twisted with derision at her words.

“Don’t pretend you have no role in this, Rhaenyra, you are smarter than that.” She added before the queen could speak another senseless word. “You pretended some measly words against your sons were more dire than a child who lost an eye. You added fire to an already growing inferno and you think they would, what? Live in peace?”

Rhaenyra gazed past her, refusing to look her in the eye. 

“I am truly sorry about what happened to Lucerys.”

“Don’t say his name.” Rhaenyra seethed.

“A son for a son, that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” 

Rhaenyra flinched, swallowing harshly against the lump in her throat, the guilt she still felt for her role in such a violent act drowning her, especially now as she faced the woman she hurt directly. 

“You got what you wanted, so consider us even.” She choked out through her own growing emotions, the memory of that night still haunting her. “Now leave.”

She watched, feeling victorious as Rhaenyra bowed her head, unable to look at her, as she turned on her heel and began to walk to the door in defeat.

“You may sit on that throne but it is my house that holds the power.” She called out before she could leave the room. “Remember that next time you get the urge to visit again.”

The door closed behind the Queen and she let out a long breath, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, having spoken to the reason for her attack for the first time, having expelled her anger towards the woman who had caused her greatest loss. 

She let her shoulders relax, suddenly realizing how tense her entire body had become. She turned on her heel and stopped abruptly as she noticed Aemond in the doorway across the room.

His face was passive, she couldn’t read a single emotion on his face. Even after all their time together, she still had trouble reading him in moments when he was guarded. 

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” He answered vaguely. A moment passed before he let a small smile grow and she breathed out, laughing slightly as she approached him. “I quite like seeing that side of you.”

“You are not mad?”

“Mad?” He asked in disbelief and laughed. “No, I think you handled that with much more grace than I ever could.” 

He held his hand out to her as she came before him, taking her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. 

“In fact, seeing you defend me as valiantly as you did was quite… stirring.” 

She rolled her eyes and pushed at his chest.

“Aemond.” She admonished. “This is serious.”

“It is and you handled yourself as if you’ve been ruling for years.”

She sighed in annoyance, the praise not having the effect she expected. She felt as though he was avoiding the seriousness of what happened, or how wrong things could have turned out. 

“Your sister arrived to kill you and all you can do is compliment me?” 

Aemond’s smile faltered, his demeanor changing in an instant, the cool air around him gone.

“I have to live with what I did… to Lucerys.” He admitted quietly. “She must live with what she did. It’s like you said, we are even.” 

She intertwined their fingers, her hand squeezing his in a silent show of comfort. She knew he still felt immense guilt about what had happened that night, for what she endured as a result of it. 

He still had nights when he couldn’t face it. 

“Do you think she will retaliate?” She asked quietly and Aemond shook his head, clearing his throat and the air of intensity surrounding him as his easy smile returned. 

“Not unless she wants another verbal lashing from you.”

She scoffed and looked at her husband plainly. He pulled her towards him, a serious look in his eye even as his smirk remained. 

“If she ever dares to return, she will have to face Vhagar.” He told her. “I would never let her hurt you or anyone on this Island.”

She breathed out in relief. She didn’t want it to ever come to that, but to hear it so plainly, the lengths Aemond would go to protect her, to protect her family and their home, was a strange comfort. 

He kissed her forehead and looked at her with a gaze full of nothing but love, the words she had said to Rhaenyra in his defense running around his head. He would not soon forget it, the way she stood up for him. 

Her name was called from across the hall, breaking the moment between them. 

They turned to see her younger sister approaching, their smiles widening as they saw the bundle she carried in her arms.

“Sorry to interrupt, but she was getting fussy. I think she’s missing you two.” 

Aemond met her halfway, his arms already outstretched to take his daughter from his good sister. He whispered his thanks, his gaze locked onto the babe in his arms, his precious girl. 

At only 3 moons old, she was the greatest light in his life, aside from her mother of course. She had him wrapped around her little finger the second she took her first breath.

“Thank you for looking after her.” She told her sister and stood by Aemond’s side, latching onto his arm as they both gazed down at their child. 

“Is everything ok? I heard there was a dragon spotted.” Her sister inquired.

She looked over at Aemond, but he seemed too engrossed in their daughter to have even heard the question. 

“Everything’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about, she won’t be coming back.” She assured her sister who nodded and quickly made her exit, sensing the couple wanted to be alone with their little family.

Together, they walked out of the palace and through the gardens, coming to the familiar bench by the willow tree. 

Aemond sat, sparsely taking his eyes off his daughter. Next to him, his wife laughed, continually amused at how effortlessly their daughter mesmerized him. 

She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached out, gently tracing her finger over her daughter’s chubby cheeks that grinned at her touch, making a noise of contentment as she wriggled in her father’s arms. 

Aemond placed a kiss to her forehead and she raised her head, meeting his gaze. 

Their smiles grew at the same time, the same thought running through their minds. They had made it.

Whispered promises made in the beginning of their love had finally come true. 

They had their family and nothing could take it from them. 

~~

Thank you all for reading and coming with me and this wild ride! All of your comments have meant the absolute world to me and I'm just so happy I got to share this with you all xx

There will be an epilogue so this will not be the end of Aemond and his Sun xx

~~

Tag List:

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So sorry if I forgot to tag you!

[caxde]

lovingsomeone | steddie x reader

summary: Eddie's got a crush on you, Steve's got a crush on you, and you're not sure who you like. A school dance and a summer party help you figure things out. (9.3k)(srry i got carried away)

warnings: smut! 18+ mdni use of alcohol and weed, afab reader, p in v sex, masturbation, oral sex and overall teenage horniness. Steve being overconfident and Eddie being a nervous wreck.

a/n: I did a first part to it answering a request and kept writing, so i put it all together! enjoy<3 english is not my first language!

“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you. 

“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back. 

Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on. 

She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile. 

It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working. 

She still was unsure about you. 

She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck. 

But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off. 

Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you. 

Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them. 

“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did. 

Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you. 

“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands. 

“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face. 

“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it. 

Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.

“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed. 

“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up. 

“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you. 

“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question. 

“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it. 

“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van. 

“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind. 

“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant. 

“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said. 

“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…” 

“Hot?” 

“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.” 

Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris. 

It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you. 

Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous. 

“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours. 

“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain. 

“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity. 

“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left. 

“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.” 

Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home. 

Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car. 

-

You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up. 

It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up. 

No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right. 

Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was. 

As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after. 

You were truly breathtaking. 

Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind. 

It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them. 

Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now. 

Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you. 

Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air. 

He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence. 

He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds. 

He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while. 

For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt. 

“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers. 

He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been. 

“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back. 

“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose. 

“You’re drunk?” 

“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party. 

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face. 

“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been. 

“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies. 

Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did. 

Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve’s got a crush on you. 

“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry. 

“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?” 

Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in. 

You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands. 

You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down. 

You were crying now. 

“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?” 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body. 

“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them. 

“Are you sure?” 

“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head. 

“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper. 

“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 

As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did. 

The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts. 

“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now. 

“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious. 

“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit. 

Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now. 

“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh. 

“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet. 

“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine. 

“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.” 

“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance. 

As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear. 

As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident. 

“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them. 

“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner. 

He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car. 

Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.” 

She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while. 

2.9

-

-

“Babe, can you help me?” You cried out, the sun hitting you a bit too hard, you started to feel your skin burning if you weren’t careful. 

“Sure, be with you in a second.” Steve adds, gleaming at the sound of your voice calling him such a pretty nickname. Him and Robin were a bit busy, stacking the small cooler with every kind of beer and seltzer they could name, topping it with ice so it would stay cold during the hot summer’s day. The first of many to come. 

The pool had been officially opened, and with that, the usual invasion of the Harrington household started. This year however, Steve decided to throw a little party, so it wouldn’t be a surprise gathering at his house. 

Robin still hadn’t said anything about what she heard at prom, and she intended to keep it that way, she was having fun watching, as you struggled to operate. 

Steve came over, sitting behind you, a little kiss on your shoulder letting you know he was all yours for now. You passed him the sunscreen, it smelt like coconut and vanilla, as he spread it on your back and shoulders, he took the opportunity to be a bit more handsy than he needed to. He started massaging your back, knowing the effect it had on you, as he heard the stifled groan on the back of your throat, quiet enough that he’d be the only one to hear it. Once he reached the lower part of your back, he spent way too much time in it, tracing patterns that had no meaning besides getting your body closer, and closer to his crotch, moving you a bit so you’d feel the way it grew against your butt cheeks. You looked back at him, over your shoulder, to see him smiling, that stupid smile that let you know just how much he wanted you, now and everyday. You shook your head, laying on his chest with enough mischievousness to let your cheeks hold his bulge between them, you felt him breathe out in a needy manner, right against your cheek. He gave you a kiss on your lips, his hand now caressing your stomach, fully visible thanks to the white bikini you chose to wear. 

“Not while we have company, Harrington.” You whispered into his ear once his lips parted from yours. He groaned, deciding to just hold you tightly, his head buried where your neck met your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in that spot he knew you liked. 

“I told you… I don’t mind sharing.” He recalled the conversation you had about your curly haired friend he knew you had a crush on, even if you evidently liked him. 

“Shush.” You dismissed him, holding his face near yours, a kiss left on his lips, as you bit his lower one. “Let’s just stay here until the others come?” You pleaded, not wanting to think about it, not really ready to think about Eddie coming here right now. 

He answered with another kiss against your sun kissed skin, decidedly staying like this. Enjoying each other’s presence, soft touches and caresses. 

The last few weeks with Steve had been amazing, but Eddie had grown cold as soon as he heard that you seemingly had made your choice, even if you were far from it. 

Steve's words didn’t help. 

In your mind, Steve seemed excited with the idea of you making out, or whatever it was with his friend, as long as you kept doing it with him. It was a dangling temptation, a dream, a forbidden fruit that had all of a sudden become edible. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you just knew Steve’s fingers were too busy tracing little drawings on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the edge of the thong that was part of your two piece. When all of a sudden your eyes opened from the noise that was coming out of the house. Eddie had arrived, accompanied by Nancy and Jonathan. The couple came out first. 

“Hey lovebugs!” Nancy screamed, her usual upbeat tone making Steve open his eyes, he waved back, you did the same movement, which made her chuckle. 

Eddie followed them closely, even in such warm weather, he still had his blue jeans on, only this time his white tank top let his arms out on the sun, you got lost in him for just a second. 

Eddie avoided your stare, got lost in your body instead. Robin clocked the way he swallowed, his muscles in his neck tensing as he tried not to look too much. It was hard, since he knew he could be the one holding you as near as he desired. 

Jonathan grabbed two beers, and offered one to Eddie, he felt compassion for him, just like Robin, he was used to being observant, and had known about Eddie’s feelings for a while, and he had been in the same situation, only he had a bit more luck. 

- 

The moment came where you decided to finally jump into the water, all of your friends deciding they wanted to stay dry, watching you as you floated in the pool. 

You were pretty good at knowing who was staring, even if they had the same coloured eyes, Eddie’s and Steve’s staring felt different. Eddie’s was full of regret, he had wanted to talk to you ever since you left the dance, Steve’s was full of hunger -at least while you looked like that, skin wet, and your hair framing your face in a way he’d call heavenly if asked.- though if you were honest, you felt a trace of desire in Eddie’s eyes everytime yours met. 

Robin had enough of that show, and even if she promised to herself she wouldn’t say anything, she needed to talk to someone, so she did. 

“Nance, can you help me get some wine?” She asked, a lift of the eyebrow and she understood she needed to speak to her. 

“Sure.” She added before following her into the house. 

Eddie and Jonathan stayed there, grinding some weed for later. Steve looked at them, and stood up, walking to the edge of the pool, sitting on it, waiting for you to come. 

Robin started rumbling as soon as they reached the kitchen. 

“I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything. But if I don’t tell it to someone I’m gonna lose my mind” She was talking in a fast-paced manner that let Nancy know just how much she had been needing to talk. 

“Jesus okay. Breathe.” She said, pushing her shoulders down. “Now, shoot.” 

“I overhead the new couple at the prom.” She started, waiting for a nod from Nancy so she could continue. “Steve told her that he knows about Eddie’s feelings, and that he’s okay sharing? What does that even mean? Has he ever said something like that to you? Do you think… Maybe Steve wants to…?” 

Nancy’s eyes opened wide, at the amount of information and preceding questions she asked, her head working overtime to keep up with her friend. 

“He’s okay sharing as in…” 

“I think he wants her to make a move or something, so she can know for sure she wants to be with him but that’s just…” She didn’t dare to finish the sentence, not without implying something she’d hate for people to imply about herself. 

“Steve really has changed.” Nancy over enunciated, raising her eyebrows as she looked over for the wine. Robin erupted in laughter. 

“What do you think I should do?” She implored now, stepping in closer to her, grabbing some glasses for the white wine. 

“You? Nothing. I’m sure Eddie’ll catch on soon enough.” She pointed out, as she started to head out. “He’s practically drooling everytime she looks at her.” She joked as Robin chuckled, following her closely. 

At the same time, Jonathan looked at Eddie, and how concentrated he was on grinding the weed so he could smoke it. He knew Eddie was feeling a bit overwhelmed, and he knew how much it could help, so he stayed put, waiting for him to finish. 

“Look dude, I don’t really know you that much but uh… You’ve got something in your mind.. If you need to uh.. talk it out…” He offered, feeling incredibly embarrassed by that leap he was making, knowing Eddie had the right to blow him off. 

He didn’t. He looked up, nodding with a half smile as he mouthed a thanks. He looked over at Steve walking closer to you and the sense of urgency came back. 

“Pass me the paper, please?” He babbled, as his hand reached out. Grabbing it and starting to roll what would -hopefully- calm him down. “I just… I fucked it up.” He added, nodding at you, and the way you smiled as soon as you saw Steve. 

“Why’d you say that?” 

“She told me if she was supposed to wait for me forever, next thing I know, she’s kissing Steve.” He sputtered, a trace of hurt could still be felt on his voice. Jonathan gave him a reassuring touch on his shoulder. 

“That’s Steve… Though to be fair… You shouldn’t lose hope.” He recomforted him, looking at Nancy as she came back, a smile on his face. 

Talking of Steve he found his way to you. His legs on the water, moving it slightly, the waves hitting your body. You looked over at him, a smile wide on his face. 

You swam closer to him, instead of laying against the granite that circled the pool, you let your arms rest on his thigh, looking up at him with dreamy eyes. 

“Hi.” You beamed at him, the softness of your tone made him get even more lost into you. 

“Hi.” He echoed, one of his hands cupping your cheek, you gave in to the touch. “You should get out, Nancy went to get your favourite wine.”  You smiled deeply at him, he really did care for you. 

“Going.” You whisper as you find your way to the stairs, pushing your head down one last time, so the hair wouldn’t annoy you. 

Eddie caught that. And the way you walked out of the pool was enough for his cock to push against his zipper. He crossed his legs, enjoying the show a bit more, as he lit the joint he had been preparing. He got a bit lost, especially on the way your hair not only framed your face, but your breasts, that seemed to shine as water dropped out of them. It didn’t help that you were wearing white, he was going to lose his mind. 

Only this time, Steve caught him, a cheeky grin appearing on his face as he made eye contact with Eddie, who became flustered. Steve just nodded, and mouthed its fine. Eddie had never been more confused. 

“We’ve got your wine!” Robin cheered, as she raised a glass to you. You took a good sip of it, the lightness of it invading your mouth, a smile left on your lips. 

“Cheers.” You added, taking another taste. “I’ll just go change really quick.”You excused yourself, bending down a bit so you could put your drink down. It was torture for Eddie, who was trying extremely hard not to be too evident, but right now he just felt you were starting to tease him, bending over when that little fabric was covering you. 

Maybe you were. 

It was intoxicating, knowing that you did have that power over both of them. While Eddie was a bit too lost in your behind, Steve got lost in your chest, even if he was more taken aback with the eye contact you liked to keep. You walked slowly back into the house, up the stairs to the left where Steve’s room was. You grabbed one of his oversized white shirts, and a pair of faded, soft, basketball shorts that were too short on him, yet perfect for you. You found your way to the downstairs bathroom, knowing that you could hang your bikini there until it dries off, and that no one would really know -or care- if you were wearing underwear or not. 

You left the door ajar, it would only take a moment. 

The top part was changed in a swift movement, so was the down one. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair becoming a tangled mess, it would only get worse if you didn’t brush it off soon. You looked for one, something, anything, unsuccessfully. 

The door opened all of a sudden. Eddie was there, an apologetic look on his face. 

“Sorry, thought nobody was here.” He pleaded, as he started to close the wooden door. 

“It’s fine, I’m just looking for a hairbrush, then I’ll leave.” You tried to explain to him, not really wanting him to leave, fully aware that those were the first words you’ve exchanged. 

“You won’t reach it.” Eddie mumbled, walking back in. He closed the door, and opened the cabinet that was higher up, grabbing a little box that had various different combs on it. He grabbed the one that was better for your hair and looked at you. “D’you want me to…?” He gestured with his hands, up and down, a brushing motion. 

You nodded, your back now facing him, as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Eddie looked back at you, your eyes meeting on the reflective surface. He pursed his lips, the high made everything feel ten times more intense. It was intoxicating enough being near you, getting to be this close to you made it hard for him to concentrate. 

You kept looking at him, and every move he made, the tension that was getting created in that little space growing larger and larger. A sense of electricity, of magnetism pulling you in closer, close enough that your waist touched his. He breathed out loudly, knowing this was getting a bit too much. But the small tugging in his pants only made your lip quiver with more confidence, he wanted this just as much as you did. You got on your tip-toes for a moment, just to go slowly down, your butt graceing his crotch slowly. You could see the way his eyes shut down for that moment, how his mouth opened, how his hands grabbed your hair and the brush harder, trying not to say anything. It was intoxicating. He finished brushing your hair, and he let the comb hit the floor. You made eye contact through the mirror once again, as he breathed in that loud manner again, shaking his head at you, struggling to let something out of his lips. 

“Dove… I…” He tried, your hands already on the back of his neck, pushing him in against you, you needed to feel him, as near as you could. 

“I do like you.” You confessed in between whispers, your fingers tugging his hair. “I just… I’m confused.” You admitted, your hips had started a little pattern, grinding against his crotch. A needines was beating on your chest, traveling all the way down to where you made contact with him. 

“Fuck…” And with that you knew what was coming. 

Eddie let out a moan out of hornyness and anger. He had wanted you for so long, he would be an idiot if he didn’t at least give you a kiss. 

Just one kiss, he told himself. 

His hands grabbed your waist tightly, turning you so you’d finally look at his eyes, not at a mirror, the brown of them almost gone, a hunger you were experiencing just as much as he was. Even if he was dying for more, he started kissing your cheek, a trembling hand grabbing your butt, messaging it, your leg lifting on instinct, pushing his crotch with yours, the feeling of the zipper messing with you, the soft fabric not protecting you much. He kept kissing your neck, and the little zone behind your ear, leaving soft moans every time his mouth left your skin. Once you were drunk on him, he cupped your face with one hand, the other still holding your butt firmly, and finally let your lips touch. You became one in that moment, your waist still moving, your hands scratching his back in an attempt to obtain more. You needed to drink every single drop of him. His hand started teasing at your behind, a smile when he noticed the lack of underwear, and just how sensitive you were. If he pushed the short upwards, the fabric touched you in a way that made you whimper. 

It wasn’t fair, you also deserved to play. 

Your hands left his back, travelled to his crotch, undoing the belt in a swift movement. The sound of the belt buckle made him snap back. 

That was more than one kiss. 

“We can’t…” He said, pulling strength from somewhere, he wasn’t sure where. 

“Steve doesn’t mind.” You tried to make him understand, unsuccessfully. 

“If I was him, I would want you all to myself.” 

-

The sun was setting, Nancy was half asleep into Jonathan’s arms, Robin was a bit too inebriated, laughing at every small detail she saw. 

It wasn’t difficult. 

When you came out of the bathroom, a flustered Eddie followed you minutes after. Steve looked at you with a puzzled look, and you just nodded. 

Now you were sitting between them both. 

Jonathan looked at Steve’s grip on your thigh, while your pinky was grabbing Eddie’s. He opened his eyes as soon as he understood. He gave Eddie a quick look, he just nodded in quiet disbelief. 

“I think we should go.” Jonathan said in a soft-spoken voice, brushing Nancy’s hair. 

“I’m way too wasted to drive.” Eddie muttered in response, a cheap excuse everyone noticed. He wasn’t ready to leave. 

Jonathan offered his hand, Eddie’s van keys fell onto his palm. 

“Okay then, we’ll go.” He stood up, helping Nancy up, gesturing to Robin to follow him. She looked back at the three of you, she struggled to hide a chuckle. 

“Fine… au revouir!” She teased as soon as she looked at you, your cheeks getting that pinkish tone to them again. You hid your face behind your palm, begging she was the only one out of them that understood the stupid joke. The shocked giggle out of Steve’s lips let you know he got it too. 

“I’ll walk with you to the door.” Steve added, off-handedly. As soon as he stood up and took a couple of steps, he looked at you over his shoulder, the prettiest smile on his face. 

It was a do whatever you need, a i want you to do it, a please do it. 

The type of look that drove you insane. 

Eddie lit up another spliff, standing up, your eyes looking up at him, all doe-like. If only you could read his mind, he thought. 

“I think I’ll go for a swim.” You were unsure if it was an invitation, or if he just needed some space, a moment to think it all well. 

Truth be told, Eddie was curious about what you’d do now, once he took his shirt off, careful not to burn anything, smoke still coming out of his mouth, a delightful picture you would keep in your mind for a long time. 

You hadn’t seen him shirtless. 

It was a sight to see, you thought. You knew he had muscles, you didn’t know his were somehow more defined than Steve’s. His chest was pale, decorated with ink, your fingers suddenly tingling the urge to trace over them, especially the one he had near his hip bone. 

Eddie enjoyed seeing you like that, for once you were the one thirsting over his body, your mouth half opened, having trouble taking your eyes off his chest, while yours all of a sudden raised faster. Your breathing quickening. 

His back was also well defined, framed by his hair swinging a bit with every step he took, his curls bouncing in an hypnotizing manner. 

He sat down on the steps of the swimming pool, his waist submerged in the water. He smiled as soon as he heard your cautious steps approaching him. You sat near him, your body not in the water, only your legs, looking at his side profile. You could draw him from memory alone, you realised. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at you, his usual grin that always made you smile back. He offered the joint to you, you shook your head, a drink still in your hand. 

“We’re swimming?” Steve proposed at the sight of you two, already taking his shirt off. 

Before any of you could answer, he had already jumped into the water, swimming back in the middle of you, taking the offer of the spliff Eddie had in between his fingers with a shrug. 

“I’m not wearing uh…” Your eyes darted nervously at Eddie, and the memory of his fingers discovering it just a few minutes ago. He did the same, his hand twitching as he made eye contact with you. 

“I’m sure Eddie won’t care.” He assured, his tone dropping a bit. The husky tone hypnotising you. Steve looked at the curly headed boy waiting for a response. He just scratched his chin, looking back at you, his eyelids half closed. “See, he doesn’t.” He gestured back at him, getting a bit closer to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to” He whispered, needing you to know he meant it, the softness of his words made you know he was telling the truth. 

As soon as you felt Steve’s hand on your thigh, and how good the water droplets falling from them felt on your skin, you opened your legs, letting him gain access, his hands finding the hem of your shorts rapidly, pulling them down softly. 

Eddie was hypnotised by it. The way your legs looked, the look of devotion you had for Steve, how confident you seemed, the shy soft smile in your face as you were enjoying his touch against your skin as the shorts became a faint memory. He looked attentive as Steve’s hands reached the end of your shirt, how his lips kissed your knee, eyes closed, how a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt himself grow, no longer restricted by his jeans. The spliff long forgotten by your side, his full attention in how more parts of you were revealed, as Steve slowly took your shirt off. The first thing he saw was the curvature of your back, your stomach following it closely. When he saw your breasts under the sunset, he realised he had never been as hard. You shook your head as soon as the shirt was off, your hair flowing freely. Your hand caressing Steve’s face, inching closer to him, leaving a sound kiss on his lips. He was trying to repress the urge he had of touching himself, it felt like he was looking at a private show, just for him. 

Steve helped you into the water, his hands holding tightly onto your waist, pulling you in slowly. Enjoying the sound you made as water hitted your full body. He had only eyes for you. His nose touched yours, asking for permission to kiss you once again, his bare chest hitting yours, you were the one who broke the distance, pushing into him with the usual care. Steve’s lips were soft, fitted with yours perfectly, you thought. 

Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. He had to touch himself. It was pathetic, he thought, you were making out in front of him, and he needed to touch himself, feeling like if he didn’t take it out, it would just start to hurt, so he did. He grabbed the waistband of his swimsuit down, already stroking his dick in a slow movement, when all of a sudden, you made eye contact with him, while you were still kissing Steve. You broke the kiss, yet Steve kept kissing your neck, one of his hands already on the small of your back, pushing your entrance to his erection. You moaned at the sight of him, and Eddie’s movements deepened. 

“You wanna kiss her?” Steve asked as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing the way Eddie looked at you, his cock still out. “Come.” He invited him, with a quick shake of his head. “She really wants you to do so, Munson.” That did it for him, that and the fact that you moaned as soon as you heard his last name, though maybe that had more to do with the way Steve’s fingers were teasing you now. 

He didn’t really waste that much time, he took off his swimsuit before coming into the water, not caring about anything else but the way your eyes looked at him, needing him. You felt his dick on your stomach, the hardness of it coming into contact with you thanks to the short distance. Eddie’s hands didn’t shake now, he was decided. They held your face, coping your cheeks in the way he had hoped to do so for so long, breaking the distance, as your lips found each other. Your tongues touching, finally, both of you thought, as your hands reached for his body, as did his. 

Steve was still enjoying himself, touching you, feeling how you squirm under his touch, your legs shaking a bit as he kept teasing, your clit missing him everytime he messed around. 

Eddie couldn’t stop kissing you, he was enjoying it maybe a bit much. He had never tasted something better, and he never wanted to. He wished in between kisses to remember this sensation forever, your hands on his body, fingers buried deep into his skin, begging for more as you moaned into his mouth. 

Your hands were dangerously low, but it didn’t matter. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt Steve’s fingers reaching inside you, moving them slowly, each movement deeper than the last. 

“Please.” You begged, looking up at Steve, his hand reaching for your neck, leaving a thigh squeez before he kissed your cheek. “Please.” You whimpered again, looking outside the pool. 

Eddie understood, and followed closely. Steve pushed your body up, you were now sitting on the stone that circled the pool, your body slowly hitted the ground, legs hanging from the edge, grabbing Eddie’s hand so you’d have him near, your hand started messing with his pelvic bone, a few brushes, caresses and he was already doing that loud breathing that proved to drive you insane. 

Steve didn’t waste no time, grabbing the back of your legs, pushing your body closer to the edge, leaving kisses on your knee, then your upper thigh, the inside of it, everywhere his lips had access to, while his hand got a bit busy feeling you, and the wetness of your entrance. 

Eddie brushed your hair behind your ear, before diving in for a kiss, his lips touching yours, just so he could have an excuse to start kissing your neck, hearing you make such pretty noises that close to his ear was something he never thought he would be able to. To be fair, he moaned as soon as your hand wrapped around his dick, starting the slow movement, he smiled in between kisses as you kept it going. 

The combination of it all; Eddie moaning your name that close to your ear, your whole body filled with goosebumps, as Steve started kissing your clit, it made you arch your back. 

“You’re sensitive today.” Steve teased, as his lips went back to the spot that was driving you mad, one of his fingers starting to make his way inside you, you felt him smile as he heard you moan at that. 

“Jesus sweetheart…” Eddie breathed out, a groan escaping the back of his throat, his voice was the lowest you had ever heard. “If you keep touching me like that, making those sounds…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. 

He saw the way you smiled proudly at the praise, your teeth biting your lower lip, while you breathed heavily, he had to kiss you again, that way he knew you’d be moaning into eachothers’ mouths.

Once Steve had three fingers inside you, his movements finding the perfect pace, his mouth all over you, legs shaking while his head was in between he could tell you were close, Eddie’s hands stroking your body helping in that. Speaking of, he looked at him, he could also tell he was trying not to come, not yet. He stopped eating you out, his head resting on your tight. 

“You wanna…?” He asked you first, nodding to him. He could tell you did, just by the way your eyes shined as soon as he asked, he had to hide a giggle once he looked at Eddie who was concentrating on something else. 

“Edds” You begged, moaning his name. It made him tilt his head backwards a bit, your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick. “Can you fuck me?” He had to bite the inside of his lips so he wouldn't come right then. His hands grabbing your legs, turning your body to him, so your entrance would be at his level was enough confirmation. Before Eddie started, while he was admiring you in all your glory, you looked deep into Steve’s eyes, your hand finally dropping his swimsuit, stroking him. A hunger in your eyes before you asked “Can I?” 

He nodded. 

Then he looked around, knowing that it would be more comfortable for you if you were on the couch. 

“Inside.” He groaned, looking at you first, then turning to Eddie. 

Before you knew it, Eddie was sitting on the couch, too much in a hurry to care if it became a bit wet, his hands got lost in your waist, kissing the zone between your belly button and your cunt, your skin reacting to every touch, pulling you in softly, slowly. While Steve was next to you, his hand still touching your clit, getting you warmed up for Eddie, as your hand curved around his cock, stroking it. 

You noticed, while Eddie was longer, Steve was wider. Both of them large, though Eddie’s curved a bit, you knew that would be something you’d like, and you were eager to prove it to yourself. 

Your free hand touched Eddie’s chin, making him look up at you, his gaze into yours, lowering as you sat on top of him. 

You both moaned as he entered you, you made your way down slowly, fully wrapping around him, a sensation you were sure you could never forget. His hand grabbing your waist, guiding you gracefully. You left a quick kiss on his lips, before turning to find Steve. 

He waited for you to guide him, he knew just how overstimulating everything must be, as much as he wished for you to do something right now, he waited, patiently, stroking his own erection as he looked at you, and the way you bounced on top of Eddie’s cock. 

You pulled him in, his knees on the couch, his body sitting where the head usually rests, his hand petting your hair, you didn’t waste that much time, filling your mouth with him. 

“Honey…” He blurted, having trouble articulating words. “You’re taking both of us so well.” He praised, as he started to pull your hair, your head following the movements, effectively mouthfucking you at the pace he wished, a series of profanities falling from his mouth. 

“You really are.” Eddie added, his hands pulling you in deeper, your eyes closing out of pure pleasure, as his cock pushed into you, a rhythm you felt right in your stomach. 

Eddie couldn’t help himself, he started with just a thigh squeeze, just to end up slapping your ass, the sound of the clapping only turning you on faster. Eddie was so close, his arms wrapped around you, in complete devotion. You took a second, continuing to work on Steve with your hand to kiss Eddie, Steve’s precum still on your throat, but he didn’t care. He needed you there, his forehead against yours, his mouth moaning and half screaming your name. 

“I’m not gonna last long.” He said, drunk on you from head to toe. 

“I want you…” You started, having to gather some air before continuing, you could feel his dick ripping you deeper every time he reentered, his hand pushing you deeper into him every time you did. “To come, please, Eddie, please.” You ended begging in a whimper, that did it for him. 

You kissed him, before your head fell into his shoulder, biting him as you felt the way his muscles flexed around you, his head falling backwards.

“Shit” Eddie groaned as soon as he felt himself come, deep on you, looking deep in your eyes, a smile evident in them. Steve didn’t even think about it before doing it, once he made eye contact with him, his lips were on his, a soft kiss that needed to happen. Eddie’s hands still on the small of your back, Steve’s on the back of your neck. 

“Hot.” You whispered, making you all three laugh, breaking the soft tension that was in the air. 

You got off, Eddie groaned as he felt you leave, he didn’t want you to ever leave his side. You looked back at Steve, he knew what you wanted, no words needed. He nodded, before kissing you again, his hands pulling you a bit closer to him, before turning you over. 

Your stomach laid on the couch cushions, your ass high as he could get it, a sight he loved if he was honest, only this time your head rested on Eddie’s lap, while he brushed your head, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at Steve, another sight to be seen he thought. He took a moment to take it in, before his hands grabbed your waist, helping them find his way inside you, a moan of pure delight as you felt him. You bite Eddie’s thigh, careful not to moan too loud. 

The sight of Steve fucking you, you trying desperately not to scream as he moved slowly, filling you up wider that he had, the small kisses and bites you were leaving on his skin were enough for him to get hard again, and you took that opportunity gladly, your tongue on the tip of his dick, licking tentatively, as you heard him groan at the feeling of you playing with him, his hands on his head, already overstimulated. Steve took that as what it was, and he went in harder, and harder, and harder. 

“That’s it, you’re doing so good baby.” He moaned, his fingers turning white as he held you, no doubt leaving a mark on your body. 

“Shit…” Eddie moaned again, as your lips opened wider, swallowing him deeper and deeper. “You’re… fuck you’re amazing.” He struggled to say as he whimpered, the praise only making you go in ways he never imagined. 

Steve felt how your walls were closing, a clear indication you were getting exactly where he wanted you to be, his nails digging in your skin, in the kind of way he knew drove you insane, your back arched even more, letting him get deeper than he ever had. 

“Eddie” Steve said, looking at him, his eyes were half gone once he looked back. “Touch her, she’s close.” 

You confirmed as much, whining while your mouth was still filled with Eddie’s cock, your left hand stroking him at the same pace as Steve was fucking you. 

As soon as you felt Eddie’s fingers on your clit, the coldness of the rings only making you enjoy it even more, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. Eddie felt it too, you were struggling to concentrate on sucking him off, so he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you instead. 

“I rather hear you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear.

“Keep doing that, please.” You begged at both of them. 

They did, somehow with the same rhythm, Eddie’s hand knew exactly how to touch you, while the other one was touching himself. Steve kept fucking you, the sound of your body hitting his was magic, you thought. Symphonies could be written with the way it all sounded, Eddie praising you, guiding you through it, Steve’s groaning your name as he pushed in and out, and you being as loud as you wanted to. 

It didn’t take long before Steve felt it, your legs thigting, the sharp intake of your breathing, your hand closing in a fist. 

“You can come, honey.” He groaned, as he too felt himself not being able to hold it for much longer. 

“Please.” Eddie added, as he too wasn’t gonna last that much more. 

You did, your back arched as you felt Steve hit you for a couple more times before the warmness filled you up, leaving every inch of your skin he could find covered with kisses. Eddie came, the cum falling in his stomach and hand. 

“Jesus…” Eddie muttered, as he let his body fully relax. 

“Yeah…” Steve added, pulling out of you, pulling you in for a hug as soon as his body hitted the couch. 

You melted into his arms, nudging Eddie to come closer. He did with a half smile, you enjoyed Steve’s caressing of your skin whilst your fingers got lost into Eddie’s hair. 

“Robin’s gonna kill me when I tell her…” Eddie muttered, before realising that he wasn’t sure if you were going to tell people about it. 

“What will you tell her?” Steve asked, as if he could read his thoughts. Not in an inquisitive tone, more of a curious one. 

“Tell her you went to Paris.” You half joked, a giggle escaping your lips. “She already knows, I’m sure.” You let the two confused men know. 

“Does she?” Steve’s curiosity piked, you nodded, leaving a kiss on his chest.

“She said I should visit it right before the dance.” You let them know. 

“Well, thanks Robin.” Eddie laughed, intertwining your fingers with yours. 

“Are you staying over?” Steve asked at Eddie, you could sense a bit of hopefulness in his tone. 

“If you let me.” 

“We should go to bed then, comfier.” Steve added, the biggest smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll do this again.” He finished with a kiss on the top of your head.