#Bad. really bad. for her to show up after vanishing to who knows where with Zor? with her lipstick ruined?? they're going to talk about tha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yutarot · 4 months ago

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the forbidden fruit. — req by anon

genre: vampire!jaehyun x reader

warnings: mentions of death

wc: 2.7k

notes; i enjoyed writing this so much, thank u for the request!!

synopsis: your quiet life shatters the night you meet jaehyun—a dark, mysterious stranger who emerges only at dusk. you’re drawn to the intrigue of his haunted character, unaware he’s a centuries-old vampire, burdened by a past he longs to escape. though he tries to keep his distance, jaehyun can’t resist the warmth he finds in you. just as your connection deepens, a even darker rival appears, threatening to reveal jaehyun’s secret and tear you apart. now, you must decide: confront the darkness surrounding you both or risk losing a love that transcends life and death.

you never knew why, but he has always intrigued you. having recently moved back to your hometown to look after your late grandmother’s bookshop, you spend each day stacking books and listening to the crackling wire of her old radio. the weather always seemed to be an abundance of mist, the town nestled between dark forests and ancient mountains. but you never thought you would find love here, especially not with the mysterious, reserved, and almost cold man who lurked between the bookshelves every day before you closed.

at first, it didn’t bother you; you get regulars all the time. but there was something about his quiet intensity, always finding him lurking in the shadows, emerging only when the sun dipped below the horizon. it was strangely magnetic.

so that leads you to now, having to close the store early in order to accommodate some of your grandmother’s old friends. somehow lacking any kind of fear, you walk through the shelves in search of any lingering customers.

that’s where you find him, brooding yet strikingly handsome, holding a copy of twilight in his left hand, gently flicking through the pages with his right. almost immediately, he senses your presence. but he doesn’t look up, instead keeping his eyes trained on the page as he speaks to you.

“you know, i’ve always wondered what the apple on the cover represents,” he says, his voice shockingly gentle. “some say it shows their forbidden love, like the apple from genesis, morally wrong yet intriguingly good.” he puts down the book, slowly lifting his eyes to you. “but i think it’s more than that. i think it shows edward’s desire, his temptation,” he walks towards you, slowly, “his want.”

he stops in front of you, looking down at your expression of confusion.

“what about you? what do you think it shows?”

you’re quiet for a moment. “i think that edward is the forbidden fruit. he’s the bad decision she makes, he’s the sin.”

he smiles at your answer. “i’ve never looked at it that way before.”

gaining confidence, you reply. “meyer quoted genesis in the beginning of the book, but i don’t think it’s the romance that was forbidden. it was him.”

“you really know your stuff,” he replies.

“you’ve read all the books in here?” you say jokingly, but his answer catches you by surprise.

“just about.”

“what?” you laugh, “that would take, like, centuries.”

his eyes darken, jaw clenching. “something like that.”

you didn’t see him for a few weeks after that. he had vanished, completely and utterly removed from your life but, never, from your mind.

he was all you could think about. every passing day you searched for him between the darkness of the bookshelves, his dark hair, his tall frame, but you never found him.

that was until the day you decided to leave the bookshop. you don’t usually leave to go on walks, but amidst the autumn breeze, you needed a break from the essence of old paper and ink.

the leaves crunching beneath your feet and the frost nibbling at your cheeks, you find comfort in the environment around you. it was dusk, your favorite grey color of the sky setting a backdrop for the orange hue of the trees. walking past a frozen lake, you take in the sights, scanning your eyes around to take it all in.

suddenly, you feel a chill arise along your skin.

you aren’t alone.

you turn frantically, feeling the presence of someone moving around you, but your movements quickly betray you as you stumble on your feet, falling backward.

processing what just happened, you stay seated, the urge to get up and leave mysteriously absent.

something—someone—is making you stay.

and that becomes immediately clear the moment you hear his voice.

“yn ln.” it’s the man from the bookshop.

you’re taken aback. “how do you know my name?”

“i’m not stupid.”

“what?”

“you were watching me in that bookstore, ever since the first day i visited, and now your heart aches at my absence. do you wish to explain?”

your heart races as you watch his jaw clench. explain? your mind whirs in circles. in all honesty, you have no idea.

but he’s right. your heart does ache.

he continues, “i was away.” he offers his hand to help you up. “on a trip.” you take his hand.

immediately, the chill you felt before returns. his hand is cold, lacking all and any warmth. it was as if he were sucked dry of life, completely and utterly soulless.

you gain balance on your feet before you speak up.

“who are you?”

that singular question seems to dull his senses, the smile on his face wiped clean.

“who am i?” he repeats, eyes darkening like they did in the bookshop. he thinks for a moment before continuing, “walk with me.”

and so you do. you walk with him. stride after stride, he tells you about his life, about growing up in the neighboring town, about his mother who passed giving birth to him, and about his friends back in his hometown. you listen, not only to his stories but to his voice. it’s soothing, gentle, and something tells you that you’ll wish to hear more of it. but you notice there are important details missing; there’s something he’s not telling you.

when you both reach your bookstore again, he halts, signaling he’s dropping you off.

you walk to the door, but remembering your heartache at his former absence, you call out to him.

“when will i see you again… uh…” you pause, his name unknown to you.

“jaehyun.” he smiles, “and you will see me when you need me. it only takes patience, love.”

with that, you smile back, turning to put the key in the lock. but when you turn back to wave him goodbye, he’s gone, the place where he stood now only a puddle of brown leaves, encased in frost and the scent of the tall, dark stranger you now know as jaehyun.

in the weeks that followed, you saw him more frequently. each time he came into the bookshop, you would pass him a smile, and he would sit, engrossed in the worlds of the books he’s reading. each day you would talk about your shared interests, and each day your curiosity grew. you wanted to know everything about this man. it wasn’t just his looks that intrigued you; there was something aurally magnetic about him. the way he looked at you, like you were something he couldn’t have but desperately wanted. you wished to uncover why.

he had just picked up an edition of crime and punishment by dostoevsky when you come over to him, a warm mug of tea in your hands.

“i brought you this; you must be cold.”

he looks between the tea and you, a polite refusal in his eyes.

“…or not.”

he chuckles at your ability to read him. no one else has ever been able to do that to him. no one, until he met you.

jaehyun doesn’t come back for the books; he’s read every book in this little town bookstore. yet, each night, he finds himself at the front door, hoping for a chance to see you.

he doesn’t want to see you, he doesn’t want to talk to you.

but he needs it.

he folds the book over in one hand, leaning back in the soft, green velvet armchair you’ve placed in the corner of the bookshop.

he speaks, surprising you again with the softness of his voice. “i think it’s interesting.”

your brow twists in confusion before he continues.

“raskolnikov seems alienated from society, no matter what he does or how he does it.”

you listen intently.

“yes, he’s a murderer. but even before then, it was always his pride that separated him. it’s fascinating.”

“you enjoy literature a lot, don’t you?” you say.

he laughs. “a little. why else do you think i’m in here so often?”

a secret part of you was hoping for another reason for him to be here. but your mind was its own fantasy, unrealistic and yet completely tempting.

“you’re different from all the rest of my customers,” you reply.

this makes jaehyun’s face contort into an expression you’ve never seen him wear before: hope.

“how so?”

“i’m not entirely sure.”

your breath catches, caged by the fear of him suspecting the feelings that linger. but it’s almost as if he can hear your heart, beating in your chest. because you’re sure that he knows.

your conversation is abruptly interrupted when you hear the bell to the bookstore door ring, signaling that you’ve got a new customer.

“i should probably go and… yeah… enjoy the book!” you say to jaehyun, who laughs at the way you so easily panic over the tiniest situations. from an outsider, it would seem that someone had walked in with the intention of blowing the place up with the way that you reacted.

as you turn the corner to approach the customer, the chilling feeling you felt at the lake begins to fade into you. it makes you wonder if you were wrong about it, presuming it was just something you felt around jaehyun, but it made no sense. you’re walking away from him.

interrupted again from your thoughts, you arrive at the door, the customers back to you.

you reach up to tap him on the shoulder.

“hello, how can i hel-“

his hand covers your mouth.

“save the talking for when you need it.” the stranger whispers, as you push his hand away.

that was rude, you think to yourself.

the stranger continues. “im looking for… something.”

“what is it? maybe i can help you? it is my store..”

“hmmm. it’s about 300 years old, pretty.. local..”

you furrow your brows. 300 years?

“well, sir that could be anything. gullivers travels, candide, paradise lost?”

his eyes glimmer with amusement. “no, no, none of those. i’ll just have a look around myself.”

confused but albeit very annoyed by the man’s lack of respect, you allow him to look for himself. and you find yourself on your way back to where jaehyun is sitting.

only when you get there.

jaehyun is gone.

but the book remains on the green velvet armchair, open on its final page. you read the words in which had been underlined.

‘They wanted to speak, but could not; tears stood in their eyes. They were both pale and thin; but those sick pale faces were bright with the dawn of a new future, of a full resurrection into a new life. They were renewed by love; the heart of each held infinite sources of life for the heart of the other.’

you threw the book back down, the final sentence echoing over and over in your mind.

your heartache, his cold demeanour. it was as if you both needed each-other for the simple aspect of life.

startling you, you hear a bang across the other side of the bookshop.

you turn on your heel, pushing the thought of jaehyun to the back of your mind as you waver your way through the shelves. but your attempt to disregard your thoughts of him is soon in vain as you find him, holding the stranger by his collar against the shelf. jaehyuns eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen them, his skin the palest it’s ever been. and his teeth.

you gasp to yourself, clutching your chest and trying to hold yourself up against the bookshelf.

you don’t recognise him, but he looks more like himself than he ever has.

his head turns in your direction and immediately his visage returns to normal, the stranger he’s holding removing jaehyuns grasp on him, chuckling to himself with a smirk.

your mind is spinning.

“so this is why you haven’t come home.” the stranger says to jaehyun.

his words from before come back to you. ‘hmmm. it’s about 300 years old, pretty.. local..’

he wasn’t talking about a book. he was talking about jaehyun.

you have nothing to say, nothing to feel or even think.

but the unease you felt about him before, seemingly has vanished.

everything you had been questioning. everything you were unsure of, has been answered.

the stranger continues, “i knew there was a reason. but i never would have suspected this.”

jaehyuns fists clench, knowing he can’t do anything with you here.

“your choice.” the stranger says to jaehyun before turning to you. “and by the way, pretty, im jungwoo.” he winks, before walking out the door and vanishing soon after.

you stay completely, and utterly still. jaehyuns eyes are only on you. he can’t tell what your thinking and it drives him utterly insane.

“are you okay?” he asks, stepping closer to you.

you should flinch, you should tell him to get out.

but you can’t.

you nod, slowly and indefinitely.

“i didn’t want this to happen,” he says, walking closer, slowly as to not scare you, “but you..”

you look up at him.

jaehyun holds a hand out to push a strand of hair from your face, gently. “you’ve done something to me.”

your eyes widen. but you can’t help but nod, a silent yet powerful indication of the way your feeling. but you know now that he can hear your heart, he can hear the reaction he has on you. he knows it’s not fear. it’s love.

he looks between both of your eyes, soaking in the feeling of being able to breathe in the same air as you. his hand finds your cheek and he leans down, everything is so slow, so gentle.

but before his lips could find yours. he stops himself, his brows crunching as if he’s in pain, hurt by having to let you go like this.

your eyes are full of questions. “why did you-“

“i can’t.” he says, sternly. “i can’t kiss you.”

“why not?”

his jaw clenches, his hand remaining softly on your face.

“i have a choice to make. this only makes that so much harder.”

“what choice?”

he gulps. you’ve never seen him nervous.

“either, i return to my family.” his hand brushes through your hair, reluctantly, and he pulls it away just as he states his next words. “or he tells my father.”

“what will happen if he told your father?”

he looks down, pain on his features.

“he’ll kill you.”

that’s when you realise. the forbidden fruit. it’s what he feels for you, what you feel for him, thats the sin.

‘but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shall surely die.’

he disappears, vanishes into nothing, as you stand, warmth returning to the air around you.

you let him go.

the next few weeks are tiresome. he hasn’t left your mind, and you haven’t left his. pain envelopes you everytime you think of him, soaring through your memories like dust in a cloud of wind.

in attempts to clear your head, you decide to take a walk again. the fog is heavier this evening, weaving through the trees and laying around the lake as if it were a blanket, soft and comforting.

you listen to the birds, melancholically singing away at eachother. but it only reminds you of your loneliness.

you long for him, mind and soul.

riddled by the effects of the winter air, the breeze makes you shiver. but when the cold doesn’t let up, the feeling oddly familiar, you turn.

there he is. standing before you, a tormented expression of a tortured soul, resting on his features.

this time, you walk to him. this time, you’re completely certain.

you stand before him.

“id rather die in the arms of certainty than to live without a chance.” you breathe, watching him intently.

but he only smiles, searching in your eyes. and at last, he presses his lips to yours.

he’s soft, yet firm.

he shouldn’t want you, he shouldn’t need you. but he does.

for if you died, it would be for this moment.

‘even more, i had never meant to love him. one thing i truly knew–knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest–was how love gave someone the power to break you.’ — stephenie meyer, twilight.

#nct #nct 127 #nct fanfic #jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun fanfic #angst #jaehyun angst #nct angst #vampire au

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regiawrites · 5 months ago

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And There Will Be No Tenderness - S.R

Warning(s): Sub!Spencer, Fem!Dom!Reader, Brief Overstimulation, Riding, General Idiocy

Word Count: 6134

Summary: Y/N and Reid never see eye-to-eye, but one kiss changes everything.

Garcia hustled into the conference room as quickly as she could with the height of her hot pink pumps, fiddling with the remote as she moved. "Good morning, my lovelies," She greeted the team. "Sorry for the hurry, but this one's a bad one."

"When are they good ones?" Rossi asked dryly as he flipped open the manilla folder in his hands.

"An excellent point," she granted, "but this one is particularly bad."

She clicked the remote and a series of gruesome images appeared on the screen, so gruesome, in fact, that even Hotch's face twitched. Four women, clearly dead, were covered in blood, bruises, and an array of other injuries, although no two seemed similar.

"These unfortunate four are Kerry Whittingham, Jasmyn Willis, Carly Smythe and Louise Fresca," Garcia said, gesturing to each of the women as she did so. "All of these women have been missing for between 6 and 11 months, all reported missing by their families within a week of them vanishing."

"How have they been linked together?" Morgan asked. "They all have different causes of death."

"Yeah," Y/N agreed. "Kerry Whittingham was evisceration, but it says here that Carly Smythe's cause of death was drowning. What's the connection?"

"That is where things get really bad," Garcia said with a grimace before clicking the remote again.

Four images of matching symbols appeared, each woman having the same mark burned into their wrists.

"Are those brands?" Y/N asked, horrified, making brief eye contact with JJ who mirrored her expression.

"Human trafficking, maybe?" Emily suggested and Garcia nodded.

"The local police department thinks so, yeah."

"So, they're being sold-" Y/N started, but was cut off by Reid scoffing 'Obviously'. She shot him a glare but spared him no response as she continued. "-and showing up dead. Are there any signs of sexual abuse?"

"Only on Jasmyn Willis," Garcia answered.

"So, they're not being sold to be sex slaves," Y/N guessed. "They're being sold to be killed."

"Or they're just being sold to whoever's interested," Reid contradicted, as he always did. "I doubt a human trafficker cares."

"But they WOULD," Y/N argued with a roll of her eyes. "If they were being traded for sex, the trafficker would be more concerned with keeping them alive."

"Y/L/N's right," Hotch said, and Y/N shot Reid a smug smile that he ignored. "A trafficker would want to keep the women alive so they could continue to bring in money. They're likely being kidnapped and traded with the sole purpose of being tortured and killed."

"What like some kind of sick eBay for serial killers?" Rossi asked, face twisted in disgust.

"That's one way of looking at it," Hotch sighed as he stood. "Wheels up in 20."

As the team filed out of the room, Y/N glared at Reid as they walked towards the bullpen. "Stop contradicting me at every chance you get, asshole!" she snapped at him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You know," he started, "research suggests that those who frequently use curse words are less intelligent than those that don't."

"Oh, shut up, Reid."

"Most likely due to a lack of adequate vocabulary," he continued.

"Shut up, Reid."

"I'm just saying, maybe you'd be less insecure about me 'contradicting' you if you-"

"If you're about to imply I'm an idiot, I will hit you," she told him, glaring up at him as they reached their desks. She leaned down to grab her go-bag from beneath her desk.

"You're also very quick to resort to threats of physical violence, which further suggests you have a lack of trust in your own intellect," he said, grabbing his own go-bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Don't profile me, Reid," she said, voice flat and unamused, before she turned and headed out.

Trailing after her, Reid said, "I'm not profiling you; I'm making an observation about a coworker."

"And your observation is that I'm stupid?"

"I don't think you're stupid," he said with a shrug, and Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

"You don't?"

"You're a qualified profiler, you can't be stupid," he said. "I do, however, think you're reckless, untrusting of yourself and quick to jump to conclusions."

"I'm not untrusting of myself," she argued, though she couldn't say she wasn't reckless. She was notorious for thinking with her heart and acting on impulse.

"If you weren't, my contradictions wouldn't bother you."

"That is so not how that works!" she snapped. "How would you feel if every time you said anything, someone was like 'uhm, actually'?" As she said 'uhm, actually', her voice slipped into a high-pitched, nasally lilt, and she mimed pushing glasses up the bridge of her nose.

They reached the elevator, and continued to bicker as they stepped inside.

And for the whole elevator ride down.

And for the whole walk to the jet.

Mercifully, the pair sat at opposite ends of the jet, and didn't talk to each other for the flight, so the team had some peace.

***

Within a few hours, the team was set up in the conference room of a police station in Pasadena, Captain Ray Jenkins sitting among them. He was a tall, portly man with a thick moustache and a heavy brow.

"So, the suspect you have in custody had DNA matching two of the victims in the back of his van?" Y/N asked Jenkins.

"Yes, and he also had Carly Smythe's engagement ring in his glove box," he told them, showing them a picture of a diamond ring. "He's remaining silent, though."

"I'd like to talk to him," she said, and Jenkins nodded. From somewhere beside her, Reid snorted, and she turned to glare at him. "What?"

"I'm shocked you want to talk to him, is all," he commented with a tight-lipped smile.

"Why would I not want to talk to a suspect?" she demanded, and he shrugged.

"Talking involves patience. And tact."

"Oh, 'tact' says the most awkward person I've ever met," Y/N snapped. "I've had to watch you talk to women before, you don't have much tact then."

Reid turned to face her straight on and level her with a glare, but Hotch held a hand up. "Don't start," was his only warning, effectively shutting them both up. "Y/L/N, you talk to the suspect."

***

Kyle Hannigan was skinny.

That was the first thing Y/N had noticed about him as he sat across from her in the interrogation room.

Skinny and short.

There was no way this man kidnapped those women, at least not on his own.

"You didn't kill those women, Kyle," Y/N said, leaning on the desk between them, flipping through the pictures.

"That's what I've been saying all this time," he huffed back, testy. As irritated as he sounded, he looked unnerved as his eyes flicked to-and-from the photographs of the mutilated women.

"You don't even know who killed them, do you, Kyle?" she pushed.

"No!"

"I don't even think you touched them," she said, fighting back a smile when he raised a questioning brow at her. "I mean look at you-" she gestured to him, "-you're short, you're skinny. Jasmyn Willis was 5'9 and a weightlifter, she could have fought you off blindfolded." Kyle's jaw ticked at the insult, but he remained silent. "You're just the delivery driver."

He stared at her, dark eyes looking up through his brows.

"So, if you're just the delivery driver, who got those women into the van, Kyle?" she asked. "And more importantly, who's running the operation?"

He continued to stare at her, silent.

"You know, whoever's above you in the food chain is absolutely going to let you go to prison for this," she told him. "Hell, they probably want you to take the fall. You gain nothing by protecting these people."

"It'll be my word against his, and no one will believe me over him," he said, low and slow, leaning towards her with a glare. "So, what's the point?" She, too, leaned forward and matched his fiery glare with a cool, flat stare.

"Your word against who's, Kyle?"

His eyes flicked towards the one-way mirror behind her, then back down to her, and she didn't miss the desperation in his eyes.

He wanted to tell her.

He looked up at the CCTV camera positioned in the corner of the room.

"Who?"

He continued to stare at her before raising his right hand, forming it into a claw shape and tapping it to his shoulder.

"That's all you're getting out of me," he said, before folding his arms over his chest.

***

"A claw shape that he tapped to his shoulder?" JJ asked. "What does that mean?"

"It's ASL," Reid said matter-of-factly, pulling out his phone.

"And what's it ASL for?" Jenkins asked him, and Reid shrugged. "I thought you were a genius."

"That doesn't mean I'm all-knowing," Reid said, simply. He began typing something into his phone.

"Great load of good that is, then," Jenkins grunted. "What do we do now?"

"Our tech analyst is looking through his cell phone history to see if there's any suspicious activity that could be an accomplice," Hotch informed him, but Y/N didn't pay much attention to Jenkin's reply as her phone vibrated.

She unlocked it and, surprised to see a text from Reid, she looked up to give him a questioning look, but he was pointedly not looking at her. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she tapped on the notification and had to force her face to remain neutral.

Reid: It's ASL for Captain.

And that was how Reid and Y/N found themselves snooping around Jenkin's office, looking for incriminating evidence. After forwarding Reid's text to Hotch and Garcia, she slipped into his office, followed by Reid.

"This is not how we're supposed to do this!" Reid hissed at her as she rifled through one of his drawers while he kept watch. "Nothing you find like this will be admissible in court."

"Yeah, yeah," she grunted, closing the drawer as quietly as she could before opening the next one down.

"We're going to get caught."

"Not if you do a good job keeping watch, we won't," she said, reaching for a drawer with a lock on it. She pulled and it didn't budge. "Shit, it's locked," she mumbled, looking around the desk for a paperclip, which she found in a small plastic cup, and bent it into an L-shape.

"What are you doing?" Reid whispered, panicked and stepped away from the door.

"Keep watch!" she hissed back, wiggling the paperclip around and managing to twist the mechanism, unlocking the drawer. "Aha!"

"Why am I not surprised you can do that?" Reid asked, not looking at her. She glared at the back of his head.

"Because I'm a cornucopia runneth over of useful skills," she snarked as she started digging through the drawer.

"Sure, that's why," he said, but she paid no mind as she started flicking through a folder she found.

"Holy shit, Reid, I got something," she said, and he spun around to look at her.

"What, really?" he asked, walking over to her and she tilted the folder so he could see it. "Is that-?"

"Carly Smythe, yeah."

From Y/N's hands, Carly Smythe's bruised, but very alive, face stared back at them from in front of a dirty wall. She was only wearing a white tank top in the picture, and her hair was flat and greasy, eyes hardened as she glared at the camera.

This picture wasn't a part of the investigation.

The picture was stapled to another sheet of paper, one with messy writing scrawled over it.

Carly

140lbs

5'6

Brown eyes

Brown hair

No Tattoos

Limited known sexual history

Sweet voice

$10k min

$33k to Poseidon

"Oh my God," Reid muttered.

"She isn't the only one either," Y/N said, flipping through the rest of the pages, through profiles of several women, including the four known victims. "We have to get this to Hotch."

Before Reid could say anything, they heard Jenkins' voice coming from somewhere outside. Y/N's heart dropped.

"You were supposed to keep watch!" she whispered accusatorily at Reid, who sputtered out a response she didn't listen to as she lifted her shirt and shoved the folder into her pants, covering it when her shirt fell back down.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, eye flicking Wilding between her and the door as Jenkins' voice got closer.

"Smuggling this out of here," she said, like it should have been obvious.

"And what excuse are you going to give him for us being in here?" he demanded, holding his hands up in distress.

"Kiss me," she commanded, and he choked.

"Excuse me?"

"Kiss me!"

And he did.

As the door handle turned, he surged forward and their mouths connected, lips crashing together.

Reid grabbed Y/N's hips, pulling her body towards his as his tongue glided over hers, taking her by surprise as he took complete control of the kiss. She slid her hands into his hair, tugging it at the roots.

He whined into her mouth, and all higher thought ceased in Y/N's mind.

Pulling his hair harder, she kissed back with a punishing harshness, vaguely registering her ass hitting the desk as Reid pushed her against it, sliding his hands from her hips up to her waist, around her back and pulling her back against him. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged on it, making him whimper in a way that had her whole body heating up in response.

"Ahem."

Gasping, they tore away from each other and spun towards the door to see Jenkins smirking at them. "I don't think that's an appropriate workplace activity, Agents," he commented, and Y/N grinned in faux sheepishness.

"Sorry, it’s all new," she said, pushing Reid away from her less harshly that she ordinarily would. "We can't keep our hands off of each other."

"I won't tell your Captain, don't worry, sweetheart," he said, a look in his eye as he turned his gaze to her that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Both Y/N and Reid managed to get out of the room, and the folder shoved into the front of Y/N's pants felt like it weighed a tonne.

It took less than 24 hours before Jenkins was on the other side of police custody, coughing up information about his clientele.

Six days later, four other men had been arrested for the murders of the women, and had several other murders linked to them.

Three weeks later, the Team had busted a huge ring of human trafficking.

One month later, Y/N was still thinking about that kiss.

Each member of The BAU had been rewarded (read: forced to take) a two-week period of leave after the events of the bust. Morgan had been shot, Rossi had a joint dislocated and, all-in-all, it was an incredibly stressful time.

Five days in and Y/N was going stir-crazy from both the boredom and the haunting thoughts of Reid’s mouth on hers. Every so often her mind would wonder to the plush look of his lips, or the intense furrow of his brow, or- when she was particularly out of control- the whine he’d made against her lips when she pulled his hair.

By day seven, she’d exhausted her Netflix subscription and had purchased Disney plus.

By day nine she’d nearly finished The Golden Girls and was out-of-her-mind bored.

As Dorothy made a snide comment, Y/N’s phone notification went off, and she practically jumped on it in all her enthusiasm. Her enthusiasm promptly dissipated when she realised the text was from Reid, and she rolled her eyes.

Reid: Are you busy?

You: No why?

Reid: I’m bored.

You: Okay and?

Reid: Are you telling me you’re not?

You: Well obviously but I didn’t text you to complain about it

Reid: Can I come over? Everyone else is busy. I’ll buy you pizza.

You: I can buy my own pizza

Reid: It tastes better when it’s free, no?

You: Fine you can come but if you don’t have the pizza I’m not letting you in

Reid: Deal. I’ll be there in an hour.

Oh, God, Reid was coming over.

She tidied up her living area, even rearranging the throw pillows on her couch before looking down at the ratty T-shirt she was wearing and had been wearing for a least three days. She debated leaving it on, but your skin tingled unpleasantly at the thought of Reid seeing it and she reluctantly decided to change.

But she couldn’t change into clean clothes without showering.

And if she was showering anyway, she may as well shave.

But if she shaves without exfoliating, she gets ingrown hairs.

That dangerous train of logic is what compelled her to take an ‘everything shower’, listening to music while she pampered her skin and ridded herself of all body hair. For Reid of all people too, to add insult to injury. He probably wouldn’t even appreciate it, not that she’d give him the chance to appreciate her silky-smooth legs, but still. Some acknowledgements of her immense efforts wouldn’t go amiss.

She stepped out of the shower and slathered herself in vanilla-scented lotion, before dressing into a simple pyjama set consisting of loose (but very short), plaid shorts and a black tank top. The doorbell rang just as she slid her feet into her slippers. Checking the clock, she rolled her eyes when she realised it had been almost exactly one hour since his last text, the punctual motherfucker.

She shuffled to the door and looked through the peephole to make sure it was actually Reid, snorting at the way the lens disfigured his face in a bizarre perspective, before letting him in. “Reid,” she greeted, as neutrally as she could when she wanted to tear into the pizza box that he was holding. It wasn’t lost on her that it was from her favourite local place.

“Y/L/N,” he responded in much the same tone, stepping in and slipping his shoes off and revealing a mismatched pair of truly bizarre socks, setting them on the shoe-rack beside the door. He’d known her for long enough to know she absolutely did not tolerate shoes inside her home, and she tried not to feel fond.

“That pepperoni?” she asked, jerking her head towards the pizza box.

“You know, it’s widely considered fact that the components of balanced flavour are ‘salt, acid and sugar’, so by that logic, a Hawaiian Pizza would-“

“Obviously,” he said, shooting her a distinct look of irritation, like she’d asked a stupid question.

“Hey, I don’t know your life,” she snapped. “You could be one of those freaks that like Hawaiian.”

“Oh my God, you’ve been here less than five minutes and you’re already doing the thing,” she groaned, taking the pizza box from him and walking to the living area.

“What thing?” he asked, following behind her.

“The ‘uhm, actually’ thing!” she says, plopping down onto the couch and setting the box on the coffee table. He rolled his eyes again and sat down next to you, not deigning to respond.

Silence settled over the two of them.

Dying for anything to relieve the awkwardness, Y/N leaned over to grab a slice of pizza, aware of Reid’s eyes on her. She turned to shoot him a questioning look, but he didn’t meet her gaze and pointedly stared at the TV.

Fuck, his jaw was sharp, and his neck was an elegant arch.

An echo of his desperate whine ricocheted in her head for a moment as she stared at him.

Such a sweet noise from such sweet lips, pillowy and plush against hers. If a kiss was all it took to wring noises like that from him, she couldn’t help but be curious what noises he’d make if she put her hands places that weren’t his hair...

When he swallowed and cleared his throat, she snapped out of her stupor and chewed on her slice, turning back to the TV.

Half an hour later, neither of them had said anything. At some point, Y/N had taken the half-eaten pizza into the kitchen, and bought back a bottle of water for Spencer, who nodded in gratitude, but the awkward silence remained.

They snuck glances at each other, but it became apparent they didn’t know how to be civil with one another.

“So,” Y/N started clumsily. “You done anything interesting on your leave?

“I- uh-“ he cleared his throat “-Re-read some of my favourite works in their original languages, I wanted to see if they held any nuances that got lost in their translation.”

“Interesting,” Y/N said. “I imagine that killed time for about a day.”

“Yeah, it didn’t take long,” Reid laughed quietly. “I’ve spent the rest of the time writing to my mother and watching Doctor Who.”

“It’s a good show. Tennant is the superior Doctor.”

“Naturally,” Reid agreed, shockingly enough. “Although I’m partial to Eccleston for nostalgic reasons.”

“Who’s your favourite sidekick?”

“Donna Noble,” he replied. “I think she had the most character, and her personality complimented The Doctor well.”

“I thought Martha was cool, too,” Y/N said. “Even though she was obviously just a rebound for The Doctor to try to get over Rose.”

“Some of my favourite episodes are from when Martha was on the show,” he told her and she smiled, smally at him.

“Where River Song is first introduced?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! ‘The Waters of Mars’ was incredible!” Y/N felt her heart flutter at the way his eyes lit up and his mouth broke into a wide grin, deciding to ignore it.

“Oh, God, that’s the one where the water’s poisoned and makes the people at the station into- like- zombies, right?” Y/N asked, twisting around in her seat to face him properly. “That freaked me out. Like the one in the library.”

The conversation flowed with an ease that was unfamiliar to them after that, and it turned out they had a lot more in common than either of them thought.

It wasn’t long before they were sifting through Y/N’s streaming service subscription, settling on a horror movie they were both fond of.

“You know, even with the clunky visual effects, this movie is still incredible,” Reid commented quietly, not looking away from the screen.

The Fly.

This was too weird, and it was making Y/N itch. It was making Y/N come closer to giving in to the urge to press her mouth to his.

“Probably because it’s a romantic tragedy more than a horror movie,” Y/N said. “It doesn’t need to rely on visuals, the story-telling does most of the heavy lifting.” She turned to him. “Although the ‘clunky visual effects’ are better than some CGI I’ve seen recently.” Reid laughed at that and nodded.

“Yeah, I can’t argue with that,” he said.

“I’m simply correcting you,” he said.

“Shocking,” she said, drily, trying to shift their dynamic to what it normally was. “You usually contradict me every chance you get.” Reid stopped laughing and cast her a side-ways glance.

“My asshole you are,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “And don’t start with the whole ‘people who curse are less intelligent’ shit, or I will throw you out, pizza and all.”

“And to think we managed to have several civil conversations,” he groaned, taking a sip of his water and rolling his eyes. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.”

“I’m being perfectly civil,” Y/N said, knowing full-well that she wasn’t. “Just admit that you get off on proving to everyone that you’re smarter than them.”

“You have no idea what I get off on,” he snapped, turning to her.

When their eyes met, time stilled for a moment.

“What do you get off on then?”

She’d never noticed before how his deep, brown eyes flashed gold in the light.

The question had escaped her lips without her permission, and she abruptly snapped it closed as they looked at each other with wide eyes.

“What?” he asked wearing a look of pure shock, like he didn’t even believe he’d heard her correctly.

“Nothing!” she practically squawked, looking away from him and ignoring the feeling of her cheeks heating up.

“Did you just ask me what I get off on?” he choked out, looking incredulously at you as you awkwardly looked at him, looking away again immediately.

“Pfffft, no,” she lied, stupid as he’d clearly heard her.

“You totally did!”

She gaped at him, not even knowing what to say. “I-“

“Okay, so maybe I did,” she admitted. “It kinda just slipped out, I don’t actually wanna know.”

“Don’t you?” he asked, voice dropping into a husky tone she didn’t know he was capable of.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since we kissed,” he told her, leaning forward. “Your eyes keeping dropping to my lips, and your pupils dilate when they do.” He leaned in closer to her. “You also keep absentmindedly biting, licking and playing with your lower lip when you look at me.”

“…So?” she asked, not denying it. They both know he was too good a profiler to lie to, especially about something he’d observed himself.

“Do you want to know why I really asked you if I could come over tonight?” he asked, lips so close to hers it was agony.

“So, you can’t stop thinking about it,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “And you want to do it again.”

When she didn’t say anything, he moved closer to her, so close, in fact, that they could feel each other’s breath puffing onto their faces.

“Why?” she asked breathlessly.

With both of her hands on his cheeks, she dragged him the extra inch forward and slotted her mouth against his, swallowing down a keen that threatened to bubble out at the contact. His long, deft fingers gripped her waist and pulled her closer to him, and she followed his pull as elegantly as she could to land in his lap.

“Because I want that, too.”

She gave in.

Immediately, and like she’d been wishing she could do for a long month, she sunk her fingers back into those brown curls and tugged. The soft noise he made against her lips was hardly the high-pitched whine that had haunted her, but it was enough to make her double her efforts, pressing her body against his and kissing him with poorly hidden aggression. He matched her sudden ferocity, sliding his hands around to her ass and squeezing hard enough to have her breath stuttering out of her chest. When he chuckled against her mouth, she bit down on his lower lip, just a quick tug in between her teeth, but it was enough to make him gasp, and she took that as her opportunity to pull his head back by his hair and look down at him.

Eyes blown out, cheeks flushed pink and his lower lip already kiss-swollen, he already looked like a mess.

“Already begging?” she teased. He glared at her, but it was hollow, before he reached up to grab the back of her neck and drag her to his lips again.

“God, I want to fucking ruin you,” she hissed, grinding down over his hips and grinning wickedly at the firmness she felt against her. He whined, his eyes flicking upwards momentarily before he refocused on her face.

“Please do,” he gasped, rocking his hips up against her, gripping her ass again.

When their lips crushed against each other’s, Y/N’s hands immediately started to rip at Reid’s shirt, almost ripping the buttons off in her haste to get it off him. He whined into her mouth at her aggression, reluctantly taking his hands off her to slide the sleeves of his button up off his arms, leaving his chest bare to her. She raked her nails down his chest, trails of pink following her fingertips, and he arched into her with a sweet keen. She pinched his nipple with one hand, and he gasped. Taking his surprise as an opportunity, she slid her mouth across his jaw to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, pausing to bite and suck at the sensitive juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Oh!” Reid moaned, thrusting his hips against her particularly hard at the overwhelming sensation. “Oh, God, Y/N, please.”

“If I knew that this was all it took to get you to shut up, I’d have done it sooner,” she said, laughing cruelly when he glared at her. Still choking out a chain of whimpers and whines, he slid his hands up her tank top, cupping her breasts, long, deft fingers pinching her nipples harshly in retaliation. She squeaked, shocked, turning to him with her own glare. He gave her a paradoxically shy little smirk, proud of himself, and it infuriated her.

“Please what?” she taunted, continuing to leave marks on his neck, and continuing to tease his chest. She ground her hips against him far more firmly, speeding up her steady rhythm.

“I don’t- I- Oh!” he struggled, breaking off into a whimper before he could get the words out.

When she pushed herself backwards, down his legs and away from the bulge in his pants, he whined in protest. She pulled his zipper open, shoving the soft fabric of his boxers to pull his cock out, hot and heavy in her palm; it was bigger that she thought it would be, definitely bigger than average, and delightfully thick. “Oh, God, what are you going to do with me?” he asked, voice breathless and desperate as he tried to buck into her hand, whining when her weight on his lap meant he couldn’t drive up enough to get any real friction.

“I’m gonna use you,” she told him, stroking his cock deliberately slow, squeezing around his sensitive head.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Until you can’t even think anymore.”

Nodding enthusiastically and gripping her hips, he tried to drag her back towards him, but she tsk’d. She placed a hand on his chest to push him onto the couch and used the leverage to stand up. Slowly, she began to push the waistband of her shorts down, the way he stared at the movement as though hypnotised flooded her brain with a heady feeling of power. “Reid?” she cooed, and it looked like it took a tremendous amount of effort for him to drag his eyes from her hips to her face.

“No, shit, no, I don’t,” he huffed, and she could see him calling himself an idiot in his own head.

“Ye-yeah?” he stuttered out, almost absentmindedly reaching for his cock and fisting himself in a loose grip. She bit her lip as she watched the tentative movement.

“Do you have any condoms?” she asked, hoping to God he said yes. The hope was foiled when he looked at her with an expression of panic.

“Fuck it, I’m clean and on birth control,” she said. “Are you-?”

“Eager,” she teased and slapped her ass in retaliation, making her yelp and jolt forward, making her wetness slide over his cock once again. She started grinding down deliberately hard to get back at him.

“Yes, I’m clean, Y/N,” he said, a pleading look on his face. “God, I’ve been thinking about this for a whole month, please don’t make me wait.”

Ordinarily, she’d tease him, but seeing as she had felt exactly the same way, she finished sliding her shorts down her legs, leaving them on the floor as she straddled him once again. She pushed her hips down on his, grinding her wet pussy over the throbbing heat of his cock and they both gasped. “Please, don’t tease,” he begged, looking up at her with the saddest puppy dog eyes. “Just fuck me, oh my God, please.”

It didn’t take long before he was whining in that sweet, sweet way that made her head spin. “Please!” he whimpered desperately, pushing his hips up to meet her movements, and she relented. Pulling away from his neck, she lifted herself up before sinking down on his cock.

He threw his head back and gasped, and she took that as a chance to start sucking and nibbling on the column of his throat.

“Fuck!”

“Oh, God!”

Slowly, she started bouncing, and he screwed his eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the almost overwhelming feeling of her hot, wet pussy squeezing him. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, jaw going slack as she started moving faster.

He was fully inside of her, stretching her out in a dull ache as her adjusted to him.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” she mumble, gently starting to rock as the ache lessened. He didn’t respond, and the glazed look in his eyes made her question if he’d even heard her. He grabbed her ass, kneading the firm flesh in a way she thoroughly appreciated.

It didn’t take long before they we both panting, flushed and desperate as the moved against each other. At some point, Reid had wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck, licking and sucking and biting wherever he could reach.

Y/N sunk her hands into his hair, gripping it tightly to keep him there as the brutal pace she had set brought her closer to the edge. The way he was practically sobbing into her neck told her he was close, too.

“Reid,” she panted, pulling his head away from her neck by his hair. He looked up at her, flushed cheeks and mouth hanging open, eyebrows hitched and eyes watery. He looked so fucked out she couldn’t help the pride that rushed through her. “Are you close, baby?” she asked him with a cruel smirk, and he nodded pathetically, crying out when she gripped his hair tighter to cease the movement.

“Please,” he begged. “I’m so close!”

“Don’t you dare cum before I do,” she hissed, leaning back a little so the hand that wasn’t in his hair could rub her clit.

His begging, desperate and needy, pushed her over the edge, her fingers on her clit and his cock filling her up as she toppled over the precipice of her orgasm. She cried out his name as her walls shuddered around him, dragging him over too. He cried out, louder than he had before as his orgasm wreaked havoc on his body, his legs shaking and tears finally dropping onto his cheeks. He babbled an incoherent stream of pleas as oversensitivity kicked in, crying that it was too much as she rode her own orgasm.

“I’m trying, I’m trying, but you feel so good! Ah, ah, please cum, please cum, please cum!”

Her bouncing slowed to a still and she fell against him, both breathing heavily and flushed.

It took several minutes for both to catch their breath, and for coherent thought to be functional again.

Y/N hurried into the bathroom to clean herself up and tried to not spiral into panic; not only had she has sex with a coworker and totally violated the fraternisation policies at the bureau she’d had sex with Reid. Worse, she realised she didn’t regret it. She should, but she doesn’t, and she has never believed in being guilty about things that don’t warrant guilt.

She supposed it was harmless, really. Honestly, if they had this new way of working out their animosity towards each other, they’d probably be more pleasant to be around.

So, really, fucking him was for the good of the team.

Yeah, I’m totally doing it for the team, she told herself as she finished cleaning herself up.

When she left the bathroom and returned to the living room, his shirt was back on his body and his cock was tucked back into his pants. He was sitting there looking so awkward it was painful, and he didn’t look at her when she sat beside him.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly, and she sighed.

“No, we shouldn’t have,” she agreed. He nodded, eyes not moving from his hands where they were folded in his lap.

“So, what now?” he asked.

Reid had quite possibly never moved so fast in his life as he followed her giggles to her bedroom.

“I have condoms in my dresser,” she offered, laughing when his head shot up and he looked at her so incredulous it would have been offensive if it wasn’t so funny. “You don’t want to do it again?”

“No, no, I do,” he rushed out with pinkening cheeks. “I just didn’t think that you’d want to!

“Well, I do,” she said matter-of-factly before standing up and walking towards the bedroom. When he didn’t immediately follow, she turned around with a raised eyebrow. “Are you coming or not?” she asked.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #sub!spencer #spencer reid fanfiction

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leaderwon · 7 months ago

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HATE THAT..

chapter 39 — what a bitch

Synopsis :- In a world where lovers are destined and written by fate, You hated the idea of a soulmate, or maybe you just hated him. Jake wanted a soulmate, a lover to be with for the rest of eternity. Just not you. Not wanting eachother, the both of you occupy yourself with someone else. But the universe had other plans.

luna's diary : a small chapter, I'm really sorry. i intended it to be longer but I'm not really feeling my best

warnings : Jake is a bitch, we hate pisseul and mentions of violence

prev — masterlist — next

The welcoming faces of Jake's parents greeted you as you stepped into the house. The middle aged woman hugged you as a smile adorned her features.

You loved Jake's mom, she was kind and extremely sweet. The best part about her though? Her cooking.

It was the main motivation that made you come here. You didn't know what it was, no matter how old you were or what the situation was, you would always eat whenever she cooked for you.

You saw Jake's dad hug yours as they wanderered off to whatever old men do.

"Come to the dining room, I've prepared all your favorites" You heard Mrs. Sim say to you with a warm smile on her face.

Going deeper into the house, you heard Jake's voice as he was conversing with someone else.

You didn't think much about it, until you saw her.

"Park Iseul?" Your mom's cheerful voice broke you from the mini shock you had gotten.

Whatever excitement you previously had, was now vanished as you looked at Iseul hoping it was a dream.

This cannot be happening.

Your mom embraced the girl in her arms as she pointed out on how pretty Iseul had gotten.

She was right, Iseul had gotten pretty ever since she came back from america

You felt insecurity take over you as you noticed your mom looking at Iseul with all the love in the world in her eyes.

At this moment, you envied Iseul. Ever since you arrived back home, all you recieved were dry replies or glares from your mom.

Seeing someone who caused all of this in the first place recieve the look that you deserved snapped something inside you.

"Iseul missed Jake, so she decided to join us for dinner tonight" Her mom exclaimed as she handed you a plate, showing you where your favorite food was placed.

You were starting to lose the remaining bits of your appetite as a gut feeling of something about to get worse started to annoy you.

This was Park Iseul we were talking about. There's no way in hell she would let you be in peace.

You were having an amazing time catching up with Jake's parents trying your best to ignore Jake and Iseul who say across you.

"Y/n, Do you still play football?" Jake's dad curiously asked you. "Oh yeah, i recently joined the football team as center forward" You replied.

"She got captaincy too" Iseul said as her annoying voice butted into the conversation.

"What about you Iseul, have you been playing after america? I heard you also joined the same university as Jake and y/n" Your dad asked the girl.

"I was playing for a while, but i got into a tiny accident" She said as she gave your dad a smile.

What a bitch.

"Tiny accident? Iseul don't lie" You heard Jake's voice for the first time since this dinner had started.

"What do you mean?" Your mom asked questioning the two of them.

"It's no-" "Ms. Y/N here wanted captaincy so bad, she got Iseul into an accident" Jake said interrupting Iseul.

No.

"What?" Your dad spoke in shock.

Your mom had an idea of you "bullying" Iseul, but your dad was kept out of the loop to prevent a fight breaking out in your house. Which you were now sure was going to happen.

"Iseul, is this true?" It was Jake's dad turn to speak up now. "I'm sure she didn't mean it" She said innocently.

Innocent my fucking ass. I'm gonna kill this bitch.

Jake who was now visibly pissed started talking about how I had "allegedly" bullied Iseul.

The whole table went into an awkward silence as people started to take in these fake peice of information.

You stood up catching everyone's attention. You felt a rush of adrenaline as you finally spoke up, "Iseul's lying. I didn't bully her" You tried defending yourself.

"I don't know wh-" Your dad interrupted you getting up from the his seat as well. "We're leaving" He said sternly.

"Thank you so much for having us" He continued making his way to the door as the color of your face slowly drained.

Jake knew how your dad was, yet he still did this over a lie?

You were having trouble believing this situation was real. Your eyes made their way towards Jake as he looked anywhere except you.

He knew your dad was violent. Fortunately, he wasn't so physically. But you absolutely despised your inner peace being broken by a fight in your house.

You couldn't count the days you've ran to Jake crying your eyes out.

He had to feel some sort of emotion right? Sympathy? maybe.

All your hopes were crushed as he finally connected his eyes and gave you that glare.

"Y/N, let's go" Your mom said. You gave Jake a look of disbelief as you finally left his house mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to face.

TAGLIST (open!send an ask to be added COMMENTS WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED) : @fertilizedtoesw @ynsvnte @jaeyunluvr @liinori @n1k1mura @syzavxy @alex-is-sleeping @hoondiors @baevsxii @rikimylove @enhaslxt @erehkinnie30 @desistay @ifuckedheeseung @haechansbbg @sumzysworld @simjyunnie @cha0thicpisces @noobgod1269 @sol3chu @potatosoulp1h @welovechaes @firstclassjaylee @miniature-tragedy @beommii @jiyechoi @dimplewonie @feeling-woozi @jjunie-0 @butterfliesinthenightsky @jindoriyam @iheartjayke @minthoons @dreamiestay @layla240 @heeseungismymanz @suneng @vixensss @woorcve @hyunjinheartbreakprince @blujk @electrobutterfly @dismaldiary @melancholy-z @missychief1404 @lhspeachie @grassbutneo @roryirl @heeheesang

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lady-ace · 5 months ago

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Injustice Spirit

(Injustice Ghost, part two)

(I'm so happy for the support on the first part, i'm glad you all liked it! :) Anyways, heads up again, this will talk about what happened to Billy in injustice, have some blood, and angst.)

According to the other members of the League, Diana is the last person the ghost showed himself to.

The Leaguers don't even got to ask the boy's name, as after he appeared to Clark, he stayed silent, ever watching. Arthur has said he's been feeling watched lately, same with Barry, Hal and Bruce.

They all started to notice scratch marks appearing on some places. The Zeta tubes, by example. The scratch marks look like somebody desperately scratched at it after failing to operate the Zeta, and was trying to get out.

Diana sighed, walking to the observation deck. Maybe watching the vastness of space and the bright stars will clear her mind?

When she arrived, she noticed someone sitting on the floor by one of the big windows, looking outside, hand on the reinforced glass.

“It's the ghost.”

Was Dianas first thought upon seeing him. The ghost was indeed as small as everyone said he was, and even more frail. He looked like if a strong bit of wind would knock him over, if ghosts could even be knocked over or touched by the wind.

Melancholy was clear on the spirit's face, reflected by the glass. He seemed not to notice Diana walked in, even though her reflection should be on the glass, too. Maybe he was deep in thought.

Diana didn't want to interrupt the poor boy, but he seemed just.. so lonely. Bruce had said that everyone's accounts, except for Clark's and Barry's, were extremely brief encounters. No words were exchanged, only the brief surprise of encountering the ghost, and him being surprised at being seen, before vanishing yet again.

The sound of Diana's boots echoed against the silence of the room as she approached the ghost as silently as she could, not wanting to scare him.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

Diana said, as the spirit's head snapped to her in an instant, startled even though she said it as calm and as quiet as she could.

The ghost watched her like a wounded animal, wary, and looking for any reason to bolt. Yet, he didn't. He wordlessly nodded, and Diana looked at the glass once again.

“The stars are so bright. Sometimes, i still stop just to admire how pretty they are.”

She mused, as the stars seemed to shine brighter in response to her compliment.

The ghost (They really needed to find out his name. it seemed so wrong to just call someone 'the ghost' or 'the boy' all the time.) seemed to think, but his head didn't leave Diana's direction, so she assumed he was still looking at her, shoulders looking tense.

..Until suddenly, they weren't as tense, as he relaxed a littlest bit.

“You really aren't anything like her.”

The ghost noted, his words repeating in a echo. Diana didn't how what he meant. Maybe she reminded him of somebody he used to know?

“You're good. Strong, but not evil. A inspiration, a hero. You're what she should have been. What she once was.”

Is what the ghost followed up with, his voice choked. The boy's arms started to shake.

Diana looked at the poor soul in front of him with concern. Who was 'she'? Did she hurt him? Is 'she' the one who killed him? So many questions, yet none of those she would have asked. He doesn't need questioning, he obviously needs someone to be there for him. To hear him.

“I'm sorry.”

Is what Diana started with, as the ghost looked up at her. She just knew that if the ghost had eyes, he would be holding tears back as she spoke.

“I may not know who you're talking about, but she doesn't sound lovely. I'm sorry you had an bad experience with her.”

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, as a choked sob left the ghost, his whole body now shaking, small droplets of blood leaving the holes of where his eyes should be, imitating tears.

He threw himself at Diana, hugging her, as if he let go, she would be gone. His small figure shaking like a leaf as sniffles and sobs left him. Interestingly enough, he seemed somewhat more solid, and didn't phrase right through Diana, like what happened to Clark.

“You're g-good, right? Y-you wouldn't..”

He said between sobs. Diana noticed that her clothes and armour would be very bloody with tears, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She slowly hugged the crying boy back, using one hand to run her fingers through the small boy's hair, hoping to calm his desperate sobs down.

“T-they used me. I was b-blind and d-dumb and so stupid and..”

The boy continued, not letting go of the hug but now trying to look up at Diana.

Diana shot him a look that she hoped was comforting. She may not know what happened to him, but he clearly needed to get this out. The poor boy seemed to hesitate for a bit.

“You aren't dumb or stupid. Please, don’t beat yourself up like that, dear.”

That seemed to give the boy courage, as he let go of one hand to wipe away tears with his sleeve, the bright red hoodie now having a bit of blood on it.

“I-i thought we were doing the right thing..”

The spirit said, looking up at Diana. He couldn't look smaller like this, and it breaks Diana's heart.

“T-they called themselves heroes. Nobody stopped him.. they just... watched.”

Oh. Is the poor boy a villain victim? The thought of failing someone like him, leading to his death, hurt Diana even more. She didn't know the boy, but she would be damned if she let anyone ever hurt him again. And so, she hug him a little bit tigher, whispering encouragements as the boy paused to sob, his face now running with the bloody tear tracks.

“Grundy w-was the one who buried me. i n-never went home.”

That seemed to remind the ghost of something. Diana frowned. Who did that? Who was cruel enough to let someone like Grundy bury a child?

“Oh g-gods i never went home. M-Mary.. F-Freddy.. t-they're all still waiting.”

Oh.

He had a family. A family who didn't know he was murdered in cold blood and let to be buried by a villain. She didn't think this could get worse, but yet, it kept getting worse.

“T-they're still in the danger.. AND I CAN'T HELP THEM!”

This launched the ghost to a panic, pushing himself off the hug as he grasped his head. Diana felt so impossibly lost. She wanted to help him, but she didn't know what to or not to say- the poor ghost just realized his family probably just thought he was missing, and, according to him, were also in danger.

Diana grasped his shoulder gently as the spirit started to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey. Could you look at me?”

Shakily, the ghost's head turned to her.

“Thank you. Could you imitate my breathing?”

Diana inhaled, then exhaled slowly, trying to get the ghost to copy her. When she noticed he was trying to, she smiled.

“Yes, just like that. You're doing great.”

The spirit continued until his breathing leveled up again and he slumped against Diana, utterly exhausted.

“I'm sorry.”

He apologized, wiping his bloody tears yet again, this time with the other sleeve.

Diana simply hugged him again.

“You don't need to apologize for anything, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong.”

The boy slowly nodded, and seemingly fell asleep, utterly exhausted, probably both mentally and phisically.

“I promise i won't be like those who hurt you. Nobody will ever hurt you again, if i have anything to say about it.”

She pet him, now looking up the glass, at the stars.

They truly looked beautiful.

/ / /

(Part 2 done! This will have a part 3, and it will be the final part.)

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #shazam #halloween post

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 1 year ago

Text

The More You Give ❧ (Part VIII)

Pairing | Eddie x shy!reader Warnings | 18+ only. Do not interact if you are underage. Roleplay (PrincessxWannabe Usurper lmao), sexual fantasies (including rockstarxgroupie), Eddie says some weird possessive stuff but reader likes it, oral (M receiving), P in V sex, dom!Eddie, sexual guilt as per, there’s aftercare. Word Count | 10,400 A/N | Nobody ask me about the timeline of this story, either in the fic or how long it takes me to write it. Taglist Previous Chapter

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The air is stuffy, despite the growing chill outside. The last days of Summer are at least a week gone now, and with Autumn comes heated stores. An ABBA song is playing on the main floor, filtering through enough for you to make out the tune. It’s the sort of thing your Mom plays in the car all the time, your mind following the words even though you can’t quite hear them over the buzzing ceiling lights.

I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it. Slipping through my fingers-

The curtains pull back, the sound of metal over metal dragging you to full attention. May’s eyes are bright with excitement as she twirls, showing off how the strapless black dress fits around her waist and flares out at her hips.

“It’s perfect, right?” She says, smoothing it down only to twirl and puff the skirt up again. “Ooh, let me see with the jacket.”

You search through the bag at your feet for the cropped jacket she’d found earlier, then watch as she pulls it over her shoulders. She fluffs her hair and poses in the mirror at the end of the changing room hallway. “I mean it actually is perfect, right?”

“For sure, you can totally see who you are already.”

“Right? And then I can just backcomb my hair a little. My Mom’s gonna lend me her scarf. God knows what earrings I’ll wear, but I can work it out. Definitely can’t get anything new after this,” she finishes, turning her head and pulling at the tag on her back to double check the price. She pulls a face before tucking it away gingerly.

“That bad?”

“That bad. Even with 30% off.” May smooths her hands over the skirt again, turning once more to the mirror. Her smile lights up her pretty face. “But totally worth it.”

Once the dress is folded and wrapped in tissue paper by the woman at the counter, paid for with what seems like every spare penny in May’s purse, attention moves to your costume. “Okay, Fairy God Mother,” May says, linking her arm with yours. “Game plan. Where do we need to go?”

“I think just the costume store. I have a blue dress I can use. But I’d like some wings and a wand. Maybe a tiara, if I can afford it.”

“Ugh, you’re gonna look so cute. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Tommy’s party?”

“The whole reason I’m dressing up is for Grace,” you reason, spotting the orange banner reading City of Fright, which appears in the same spot every year mid-September and vanishes November first.

Gone are ABBA’s lilting tones, replaced with stock Halloween music, the occasional creepy laugh and thunder clap. The entire front of the store is complete costumes, wrapped up in plastic and hanging on metal rods, but once you reach the shelves at the back, you are surrounded by an array of vampire teeth, witches hats and face paints.

“Eddie’s renting Theatre of Blood,” you tell her, not waiting for a reaction before launching into a prepared defence. “It sounds really good. It’s about an actor who takes revenge on his critics by murdering them like Shakespearian deaths - drowning in Malmsey wine, that kind of thing. He picked it cause, you know, he thought I’d like it.”

“Okay, but she’ll be in bed by what? Eight?” May asks, wandering around the table of paraphernalia as you start thumbing through fairy wings piled next to fake blood bags, searching for the right blue. “You could come after.”

There’s a moment of silence, then she sighs softly. “Okay, I will say it’s kind of cute that he picked that. In a weird, not really that cute cause it’s a horror movie about gruesome murders, sort of way.”

You stifle a grin, chancing a look at her over the table. “That sounded…almost like a compliment?”

“Almost,” she agrees, walking back round to your side. Then, before you can answer, she has seized a shiny silver plastic tiara and is reaching out to place it gently on your hair. “There. Fit for a Princess.”

You shake your head, laughing. “What about a Fairy Godmother?”

May hums, grabbing a set of the net and wire wings and pulling them over her arms. “I’m the fairy now!” She declares, raising her chin and going up on tiptoes to whirl around the racks, wings shaking behind her. “Here to make all your Halloween costume dreams come true!”

Your heart warms, a giggle escaping as she peers curiously at the rubber masks and cat ears in character, mumbling about the strange habits of humans.

“Oh please, fairy godmother! I need a wand if I’m going to look anything like the real thing!”

“A wand, of course!” She cries dramatically. “No true fairy would be seen dead without their wand.” You watch her scurry on tip toe around until she comes to a display of wands of various colours, topped by stars and hearts, sequined tassels and glittery handles. She wiggles her fingers above them, picks out one with a simple silver star and travels back to you gracefully. You take it from her with a flourish. “There, and now your wings.” She helps you into your own pair, then turns and throws a graceful hand into the air. “Now, we fly!”

You flit about after her, laughing at her with every pause she takes to frown disapprovingly at fake scars and rubber spiders. She stops in front of a Tinkerbell costume, pointing with a surprised smile at the model on the package. “Hey, I know her!”

You snort a laugh and it sets her off, all attempts to stifle your laughter only making it worse. Your giggles are only beginning to settle when you feel the sudden awareness of being watched tickle the back of your neck.

“Uh, hi girls.”

Your heart drops. Caroline stands, a hand over her mouth, barely covering the smirk. “You look like you’re having…fun.”

Suddenly, the clear elastic of the wings is too tight around your shoulders. You can feel the crooked angle of the tiara atop your head, close to slipping off entirely. The wand in your hand isn’t silver now, just chipped paint on plastic.

Next to you, May is wrenching off her wings, laughing airily. “Just messing around,” she assures, folding them up and holding them with a tight fist at her hip. “You costume shopping?”

Caroline looks around at where you are. “I mean, obviously. Not for me, though, for Ethan,” she sighs. “You know boys, no interest in shopping.” She sets her stare on you, eyes scanning from the crooked tiara downwards. “Are you girls dressing up together?”

Your throat feels blocked, leaving you just to shake your head. May answers for you both. “No, no. Like I said, we’re just messing around. So we should probably put this stuff back.” She slides her wings into the space between some hanging masks before elbowing you into action. You’ve abandoned the tiara and wand and are in the process of sliding off the wings when she adds, coolly, “I’m actually going as Madonna.”

Caroline’s smirk falls, replaced at terrifying speed with a deep frown. “What? You can’t, I’m doing Madonna. I’ve got a veil and everything. Ethan’s going to be Sean Penn.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m going as her in Desperately Seeking Susan, so it’ll be, like, totally different.”

“But I don’t think there should be two Madonna’s,” Caroline continues, almost sounding sympathetic. She crosses her arms, shrugging. “You’ll just have to go as somebody else.”

“Oh,” May says, shoulders falling. “Um, right. I get what you mean.”

You’re not in the habit of arguing with Caroline. It’s been easier, historically, not to contradict her or answer back. But you can feel May deflating beside you, and it tumbles out. “But you won’t look similar or anything, they’re completely different costumes.”

“They’re not though.” She answers with finality. “They’re both Madonna, and the last thing we want is comparisons, right? People talking about who wears it better all night?”

May nods. “You’re right. Totally. I’ll think of something else. No worries.”

“But May, your dress! You can’t return it now, it was on sale!”

“It’s fine,” May snaps before smiling close mouthed at Caroline. “I can find something else to wear, no issue.”

“You could be fairies together!” Caroline says. “I bet the guys at Tommy’s party would love that.”

“No, no, like I said, we were just messing around,” May says. “Not really my thing. And anyway, she’s not coming on Friday.”

“Oh no!” Caroline pushes her bottom lip out into a pout. “But I haven’t seen you outside of school in ages!”

“I’m babysitting,” you explain, clutching your removed wings in your fists.

“Oh sure you are, not spending the night with your boyfriend. We hardly see you anymore, I feel like there must be so much detail we’ve all been missing out on. You’ll have to come on the next girls trip, right May? So we can hear all about you and…Eddie.”

Your heart pounds as May nods. “Yeah,” she answers. “Eddie can’t have all your time.”

“Perfect. Well, let me know what you end up doing, May! See you later, girls!”

She flounces away, and May hides her face in her hands. “I can’t believe she saw me doing that.”

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not!” She says, throwing her hands up. Her eyes shine with frustrated tears. “It’s not okay! Not for me, anyway. It’s different for you, people already think you’re weird.”

You blink at your friend. Then you look down at the speckled linoleum floor, watch the spots fuzz and blend into each other as the lump in your throat builds. Before five seconds have passed, her arms appear at your sides, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean that.”

But you know that she did. You know that’s exactly what she thinks.

For the moment you have to think about what you say now, you imagine calling her out on this. Pushing her away and telling her that she doesn’t have to spend any more time with you, given you embarrass her so much. You’d buy your fairy wings and your crown, walk out with your head held high.

Maybe she’d call after you, apologise again, say that losing you isn’t worth impressing Caroline or sitting at the cheerleader table.

But maybe any pain she’d feel at the prospect of your friendship ending would only bring out her anger. Maybe she’d swear to never speak to you again.

If you were somebody else, someone who didn’t love May, maybe you’d take that risk. But you are you, and you’ve loved May since you were five. To you, the only thing worse than feeling hurt yourself is the thought of hurting her back.

So you shake your head at her shoulder, blink away tears and squeeze her tight in your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you nod, pulling away from her collar that smells the way being seven smelled. You release her, and in turn her arms fall from you. “I get it, you’re just stressed.”

“I know! I don’t know what I’m going to do about my costume!”

Your heart pangs. You swallow the lump in your throat that’s trying to rise back up. “Well, at least the dress is black,” you say, sniffing quick and quiet. You drag your hands over your eyes, clearing away the wetness clinging to your bottom lashes. Stop it, you think. Stop crying. “Let’s return the jacket, yeah? Then you’ll have money for a witch hat or something.”

May nods slowly as she thinks it through. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, that works.” She gives you a relieved smile. “God, what would I do without you? Let’s go.”

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“Well, I didn’t think I wanted glasses because Katie has glasses,” Grace explains, holding her plastic pumpkin, now close to overflowing with candy, in both hands at her stomach. She looks at you with a look too knowing for a seven year old, then continues. “Katie is a tattle tale.”

“I see,” you nod.

“But I want ones like Jessica’s!” She cries, arms extending with the weight of her treasure trove before she pulls it back up. “They go dark in the sun!”

“It’s not the same,” she whines. “And then when we went to the optom- uhm.”

“But you already have sunglasses,” you reason, picturing the little red plastic pair you’ve had to run back for when out on walks many times. Grace hefts the pumpkin again and you give in, lifting the bag from her grasp and burying your wand in with the candy. You soften when she grabs your hand with a deep sigh.

“The optometrist?”

“Yeah, when we went to see him, he said my eyes were perfect!”

“Well, that’s good.”

“No!” She yells, dramatically, pulling on your arm with her whole weight until you have to heave yourself back up. You stifle a giggle at her distraught expression. “Because now I’ll never get glasses, and everybody has them.”

“Well, first of all, I’m sure not everybody has them,” you say, smiling down at her grumpy face. “And secondly, you shouldn’t just want something like glasses because other people have them, even if it was everybody else. You can’t just live your life just trying to be like everyone around you.”

“I know,” she mumbles. Then, catching your raised eyebrow, “I know!”

You round the corner to her street, and by the time you’re approaching her house, she’s moved comfortably on to the next topic of her candy eating schedule for the next three days. “Because Jessica saves all her Skittles for last,” Grace explains, her position now firmly against being anything like Jessica. “Which is stupid, because you should have the best candy first.”

“Mm? Why’s that?”

Grace looks at you with a frown. “Because the best comes first,” she tells you, with the tone of somebody kindly trying to hold in their frustration with an imbecile.

“Of course, silly of me to ask. Hi, Mrs. Miller!”

Grace’s Mom was clearly waiting for you near the front door, already out and standing on the front steps as you walk up the front path. Grace holds her hands out to take her bucket back, launching forward when she’s got ahold of it. “Mom! Look at all my candy!”

“Whoa! There’s no way you’ll be able to eat all that!” Her Mom says, eyes comically wide. “Think you need someone to help you out, hm?”

Grace shrieks indignantly, running under her Mom’s arm inside and clambering up the stairs out of sight without a bye nor leave for you.

“Everything went okay?” Her Mom asks, smiling when you give her your usual answer, all fine. “Will you be okay getting home? I can get her back down if you need a ride.”

“Oh, um,” you check either side of the street, feeling suddenly warmed inside at the sight of Eddie’s van parked at the end of the road. Now that you’re concentrating on it, you’re sure you can hear the music blasting behind glass. “No, it’s okay. That’s my boyfriend.”

“Ah, Eddie.” She smiles, then smacks her teeth as she, too, registers his music. “Maybe tell him to keep it down next time? I don’t mind but I already get monthly phone calls from Mrs O’Hara about the sound of the lawnmower.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll do that,”

“Okay,” she says, calling after you as you start up a fast pace towards Eddie. “You have a good night!”

You pull your cardigan sleeves down over your hands to fight the chill as you move, smiling when you can properly make out Eddie sitting in the front seat. He had a special D&D night planned when he dropped you off at Grace’s earlier. While your costume sat folded in your bag all day, he’d gone to school dressed all in black, even his white Reeboks swapped out for a pair of knockoff doc martens he’d launched himself towards when he caught sight of them at the thrift store. They’d fit him just fine with three pairs of socks.

This morning, sitting in his van, he’d barely managed to control his excited twitches while you lined his eyes with a cheap black pencil from the drugstore. Your work is a little smudged now, but on him, it looks even better than before. Which makes sense, you think. Eddie doesn’t suit neat lines.

“Hi Princess!” He calls, turning the music down enough that his excitement is just audible through the glass as you approach.

“Not a Princess,” you remind him as you climb in, turning your back to shake your shoulders and display the blue net wings. “A Fairy God Mother.” You settle back into the seat, shivering away the chill that had gooseflesh rising over your body. Eddie rubs your arm over your cardigan, and you take the opportunity to grab his hand. As much as you want to warm your cold fingers, it’s mainly just to touch him. “How was the game?”

His grin turns sharp as he leans back in his chair, chin tilted up. “So fucking good. I have them right where I want them. I thought for a second Lucas had me worked out. He hesitated when they were getting to the caves, but then he just went along with it. I can’t wait till next week.” He lets go of your hand long enough to start up the van before returning his open palm to the space between you for you to take hold of him again. “How is Princess Grace?”

“Increasingly despotic. She executed like five of her toys before we went out trick or treating.”

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “What for?”

“Well, her not-so-wise Fairy God Mother,” you start, gesturing to yourself. “Made the mistake of telling her about royal food tasters? Now there’s a poisoning attempt every few days.”

“Very active imagination, this girl. Violent, but active.”

“Mm, I think most girls play that way. When I was little- Well, me and May, we’d act like witches sometimes? And make potions out of mud and sticks and stuff. And talk about who we would curse.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “And which poor soul had earned this spite, pray tell?”

“Did you ever have Mr Gilmour?”

“Oh, Gilmour, yeah, I fuckin' hated that guy!” Eddie yells. His eyebrows furrow. “I threw up during gym in seventh grade and the sadistic prick made me finish running a mile.”

“Yeah, I forgot about that till now.” His brows stay taught for a second longer, then he shakes his head a little, tapping his fingers along your knuckles. “Too bad I didn’t have you around then, coulda cursed him for me a little earlier.”

“Oh, Eddie, that’s horrible.”

“I would have,” you promise. “But you were telling me about the game. Did you get Dustin with the, um, venom troll?”

“Not yet. We didn’t get as far as I’d have wanted before they had to go. I mean, what fourteen year old has a curfew? I didn’t, and I turned out alright. But I’ll get him next week. I can’t wait to see his face - that little punk thinks he’s so smart, but he is pre-dictable.”

Eddie continues describing the campaign, the traps he’s set for them that he’s sure they’ll run into, the whole drive to his place, excited and animated as he usually is on the rare occasion you get to see him after Hellfire, wound up from the events of the day. He only slows down when you’re settled on his couch. Sneakers left at the door, wings, tiara, and wand abandoned on the kitchen table, wrapped up in his arms as the opening titles of Theatre of Blood play.

Eddie’s so warm, and unusually still when you sit with him like this. Being cuddled up to him puts you in mind of your aunt’s black cat. She spends the first couple hours of every visit pretending that she isn’t interested in being anywhere near you. Then, after letting her sniff your hand, rubbing gently between her ears, she darts up on your lap, her soft heat spreading through you.

Eddie might not admit it, at least not verbally, but he likes being petted the same way. You’ve seen his eyes flutter when you play with his hair, heard the gentle sighs he lets out when you touch his cheek. Now, leaning into his chest, rubbing lazily at his torso, you can feel the way his body relaxes into the couch under your touch. It makes you smile at the TV even as Vincent Price swears revenge on all his critics.

You turn your head just a little, trying to be subtle as much as possible so you can look at him properly. Eddie’s eyes, which in sunlight can be bright as copper, are dark and focused in the electric light of the TV. The light freckles that dotted the tops of his cheeks and nose during Summer have faded from the cloudy days and early sunsets, leaving only his soft pale skin. His lips, as always, are soft looking and pink, still shiny from the last time his tongue peeked out, set in a near constant subtle pout.

You sigh gently, and in turn breathe in the remnants of smoke and laundry detergent from his shirt, the fading spice of his drugstore aftershave.

“You know I picked this movie out special,” he says, only his eyes moving to fix you with a mockingly suspicious expression. “Vincent’s a master.”

You’re surprised to find you’re not ashamed at having been caught. “M’just looking at you.”

“Therein lies the problem, sweet thing. One minute you’re just looking. Next thing I know my head’s trapped between your thighs.” This time he leans in properly. “Wicked temptress.” He whispers it, his breath warming your face.

You think he’ll kiss you then, but instead he relaxes back into the couch with a sigh. “M’just lucky you weren’t dressed up all day.” His hand tugs at the hem of your skirt, then spreads out just above your knee. “I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else. It’s a miracle I even got the movie playing instead of trying to touch you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” you answer, trying not to sound too eager.

“I bet,” he says, eyes shining. Then his face turns serious, palm coming to his heart. “But Eddie the Chivalrous would never touch a Princess without properly wooing her first.” His eyes scan over your face quickly. “I guess that means we need to finish the movie.”

He’s teasing you. He wants to push, see how much he can get you to say, if you’ll ask him outright to just touch you the way you want. Warring feelings compete to decide what you do next. Maybe months ago, when you first started dating Eddie, you would have pressed your thighs together and settled in to finish the film. A part of you still calls for that, screams that whatever you say won’t be right.

You stare at Eddie now. His eyes still lined dark, the smirk he’s trying to hide. Your toes curl just looking at him, and the thought escapes naturally. “You don’t look like Eddie the Chivalrous, right now.”

Eddie blinks slowly. His head tilts. “No? Who do I look like, then?”

Now, something like shame creeps back in, and you wish you’d just settled down to watch the movie.

You haven’t ever put a name to it before. In your fantasies, the ones that appear unprompted when you’re alone in your bed and you haven’t been able to touch him in a couple days, Eddie’s always Eddie, but sometimes just a little different.

Maybe Eddie the Chivalrous is the right name for how you first thought about him like that, calling you Princess as usual but meaning it. You thought about him as your knight and guard, sworn to protect you, breaking all the rules by laying you down and treating you gently, better than any lord or Prince you could be promised to.

Then you’d think about his laugh, the one that comes out when you moan a little loud, or lose your patience and try to direct his hands or his tongue to where you need him. The mocking gasp and teasing tone that often comes along with it, you want it bad, huh, Princess? You think about an Eddie who’s like that all the time, teasingly mean with you, dark and dangerous to everyone else, finding you alone in your soft bed, holding your hands above your head and- and-

People already think you’re weird.

You give in to the sudden hot shame, pressing your face to Eddie’s chest lest he read your expression so perfectly that he works it all out. You whisper into his shirt, more to yourself than him. “I’m so weird.”

“Well, s’a good thing you’re with me then, mm?” He says, big hand moving to stroke the back of your neck. “Cause if you got a fantasy, like, something you think about when I’m not around. You know I won’t judge you for it, right?”

“I know.” It comes out muffled against his shirt but it’s certain. It’s instinctual, now. You’re as sure that you don’t need to worry about Eddie judging you as you are that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. More and more, you find yourself talking to him the way you talk to yourself in your head. Easy and free, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. But this is different. “It’s just- It’s like-” You sigh, searching for the words that won’t come.

He hums, still rubbing your neck. “Maybe I could- I mean, do you…wanna hear one ‘a mine?” You emerge from your hiding place, leaning back into his hand to gauge how serious he is. Eddie’s eyes crinkle at the sides at having coaxed you into looking at him again. “Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoes. Eddie searches his side for the remote first, pausing Vincent in the middle of another monologue. “Okay. Well, yeah, sometimes I think about- Wait no, gotta set the scene. I’ve just played maybe the best show of my life. Nothing too big,” he continues, giving you a serious look. “I’m not a sell out. We’re talking the smaller arenas, you know? Anyway, after, when I get backstage, feeling like hot shit, there’s this girl. Prettiest I’ve ever seen. And she’s wearing the band’s shirt.”

“And she’s a little shy. Can barely look me in the eye-” He catches you just as your gaze moves to his collar, pulling you back to staring, helpless, into his dark eyes. Eddie takes your hand from where it was playing with the hem of his shirt, weaving your fingers together. “She’s kinda fidgety, too.”

You swallow. “Me?”

“You, sweet thing. S’always you.” You bite the gum behind your bottom lip, holding back from grinning too much. You squirm a little under his gaze, waiting for him to speak again. “And you tell me you’ve been waiting for me,” Eddie says, voice smooth and quiet. “You tell me you’re my biggest fan. And you can’t quite say everything you wanna say, but it doesn’t matter, cause I’ve got you worked out. So I get real close,” he says, his face disappearing as his mouth moves towards your ear, “and I ask if you want me to touch you?”

“And I do,” you continue for him, shivering again at the little groan Eddie lets escape from his throat.

“Mm hm, real bad.” His eyes reappear, scanning over each part of your face. “So bad you wanna earn it. Wanna show me I was right to pick you and not some other girl. You get on your knees for me.” Eddie licks his lips quick. “And I know you’re kinda inexperienced, but it’s good, the best I’ve ever had. You know why?” You shake your head, gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth. You watch his lips move around his words. “Cause you’re so fucking grateful for it.”

“Mm. And when I decide you’ve earned it, I lay you back on a couch somewhere. A green room or a tour bus or something. And I show you you were right to wait for me.” You shiver. It’s a delicious thrill to picture Eddie that way, completely new to you, a total stranger, yet so sure of what he can take. “And after that?” He says, giving the back of your neck a squeeze. “I keep you.”

“Eddie.” You feel your heartbeat between your legs, wishing he would touch you there now, or even put you on your knees the way he wants so you could show him you’re as grateful for him here and now as you are in his fantasy.

The fantasy fades when Eddie kisses you. With the press of his lips, the taste of Dr Pepper on his tongue, he’s your Eddie again, familiar and perfect. You’re still floating back to Earth when he pulls away. “Your turn.”

You flinch, crashing to the ground instead. “What?”

“You like Latin, right? It’s quid pro quo, sweetheart. I show you mine, you show me yours. Tit for tat. That was the deal.”

“It was implied.” Eddie answers breezily. Then, with his thumb rubbing gently at the back of your hand. “C’mon. Try? You liked mine, right?” You give a barely noticeable nod, but Eddie catches it. “Yeah. And I bet I’ll like yours.”

“There was no deal!”

“I can’t- I don’t have it all, like, thought out the way you do.”

“Well, I’m a storyteller by trade,” he says, pressing his free hand to his chest. “All my sex fantasies have lore. And we can build on yours, if it needs it.Alright. I’m not Eddie the Chivalrous right now. Who am I?” He tilts his chin to where you have started playing with his rings, twisting each round his fingers in turn. “Apart from Eddie the Stress Toy.”

“It’s not- You’re just-” You swallow, rubbing your thumb over the metal skull sitting where a wedding ring would go. “You’re just somebody…somebody I shouldn’t want.”

“Intriguing. And you are?” Your face flames. You mumble it, barely opening your lips, and Eddie squints. “Mm?”

You sigh. “Princess.”

“Always,” Eddie replies, ducking his head to make sure you see his face, reassuringly still smiling. “Okay. I can work with this. Maybe I'm…Eddie the Banished. I tried to take power for myself by force but I failed.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses the thin skin at your wrist. “And I’ve returned, because I realised I don’t need to win a battle. I just have to…take the Princess?”

You clench around nothing. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, yeah. C’mon, sweet thing.”

Your gaze follows him as he stands. “You want- Right now?”

“Why not? We’re all dressed up. The time is now.” Eddie pauses his excitement when he registers the fact you’re still sitting. “If…if you want.”

“I do,” you breathe. “But I can’t, y’know, talk like you.” You just know Eddie already has some dialogue thought up, things he can say as the character he’s just come up with that will make you dizzy. “I’ll get stuck.”

“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t,” Eddie says, squatting down in front of you, hands spread out on your knees. “I don’t mind taking the lead. Besides, the Princess would be kinda nervous anyway, right? If you’re not supposed to want me. The outlaw, the traitor. You’ve been told about all the terrible things I’ve done, what I tried to do for power. Now you feel guilty about what you really want from me. And I’ve been thinking about you while I’ve been on the run, living rough- You know, this is good stuff,” he says, interrupting himself and looking round. “You got a pen? I should maybe write some of this down- No. After, sorry.” He gives you a sheepish grin, then leans in close. “Don’t think there’s much chance I’ll forget this, anyway.”

He stands then, hand extended to you with wiggling fingers for you to take and let him guide you through to his room. Eddie hums when his door is closed, shutting out the world beyond the frame. “Shoulda done this at yours,” he says, sitting you down on the mattress. “In your pretty Princess bed.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say breathlessly, meaning it entirely. All that matters is it’s him. He’s the only person you could do something like this with.

“Okay, I need a little more. You shouldn’t want me, I’m…morally grey, let’s say. Chaotic neutral. Am I mean?”

“Kinda,” you answer. “You’re…selfish?”

“Selfish,” he repeats.

“Just like, y’know. It’s like-” Eddie’s hands spread at the sides of your thighs, teasing the skin at the hem of your skirt. You want them everywhere. “You know I want you. That I’ll…do things for you. And you take advantage. ”

There’s a pause. “I think I’m following. Things somebody like you shouldn’t do?” You nod quickly, cheeks burning as you watch him work it out. “You wanna get your mouth on me, Princess?”

You fight the instinct to hide, the urge to look away, the voice telling you to deny everything, take it back. Instead, you start playing with the hem of his shirt again, soft cotton between your fingers.

“Mm hm.”

“Shit. Okay. Anything-” His voice cracks a touch, and he clears his throat before he speaks again. “Anything else?”

“It’s not like- Even though you’re mean, you still- With me, you feel-” Now you do have to look away, staring at where your fingers are fiddling with the black fabric. He can read you too well, and you don’t want him to see exactly what you want from him. “You-”

You love me.

“I feel…how I feel about you?” He suggests.

You bite the gum behind your lip to stop yourself asking exactly what that means. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good. Hard to pretend anything else.” Eddie leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, long enough that your whole body relaxes into it, your mind settling on Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. When he pulls away, it’s easy to answer his question. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eddie stands to full height, his shoulders back. He tilts his head, expression shifting. From your Eddie, with chestnut eyes and his perfect, dimpled smile, to a smirking man with a dark gaze excited to ruin you.

“I’ve been looking for you, Princess,” he says, voice smooth and confident. A thrilled shiver runs up your spine. “Knew I’d find you eventually, but I could only hope I’d find you like this. All alone.” He takes a step towards you. “Unprotected-”

“Eddie,” you whisper.

Softness peaks through with raised eyebrows. “Good?” You nod quickly, and it disappears again as he slinks closer towards you. “I missed you, while I was away,” he tells you, soft and teasing. “Did you miss me?”

“I-” You swallow. You’re used to repeating back what Eddie says to you, in times like this, letting him guide you through everything he wants to hear from you. But you don’t want to just watch him do this for you. “No.”

Eddie blinks, surprised, then he puts on a mockingly hurt face, hand over his heart. “No? You wound me, Princess.” That same hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb strokes gently under your eye and you can’t help but lean into him. “Or you would, if I believed you.” He tilts your head up to see him properly, standing over you. “You think I didn’t see the way you’d look at me, before I left?”

Your fingers twitch to reach out and brush at the ends of his hair as it falls towards you, but you keep them at your sides on the bed, curling into the sheets. “You didn’t leave, you-”

“Left, banished, driven out; it all comes to the same end, mm?” His eyes scan your face, down your dress and back up. “That’s you and me, Princess. Here, alone together. You gonna pretend you never wanted that?”

His thumb, callused and warm, keeps rubbing over your cheek. “I can’t want it”

“No, you can,” he presses. Eddie, your Eddie, would sit with you now, squat in front of you to talk to you at the same level. Now, his grip on your jaw tightens just enough to remind you that he could stop you looking away if you tried. “Cause I’ve had time to think about it.”

“While you were hiding in the woods?”

“While I was regrouping,” he corrects. “I realised something. I went about it all wrong.” he tells you. “It was foolish of me to try and use force to get what I want. Not when you were right here. Waiting for me.”

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, then presses inside to the tip of your tongue.

“If I make you mine, everything else follows. That’s right, isn’t it?” He nods slowly until you copy him. “The throne, power, vengeance on everyone who tried to hold me back. And you, in my bed every night. All day if I wanted.” He pulls at your lip again as he steals his thumb back, leaning in until his breath is warm against your cheeks. “That sounds nice. Doesn't it, Princess?” You glance at his lips, wanting him to kiss you now, to take it from you. Eddie shakes his head, drawing your gaze back to his. “I wanna hear you say it. You wanted me to touch you, just like this, and more, didn’t you? Wanted me to show you how to make me happy?”

You can feel your heartbeat heavy in your chest, your breath coming quicker. Only Eddie could do this, have you convinced of a story which before tonight only existed half formed in the fantasies of your bedroom. You can feel the internal conflict as if it really is your duty to say no, and your heart’s only desire to give your next answer.

“Yes, Eddie.”

He gives you a kiss that’s half teeth, dragging at your bottom lip. Even this is different. You’re used to the gentle start, feeling him smile on your mouth. He breathes deep through his nose, pulls from you so suddenly that you make to follow him until he presses a hand to your shoulder.

“And I will. Get on the floor.” Eddie steps back, and it doesn’t even occur to argue with him now. You slide off the mattress easily, knees falling to the carpet without looking away from him. There’s a pause. He speaks quietly, as if he doesn’t want an invisible audience to hear. “You comfy? You want the pillow?”

“No,” you answer, heart aching. “I’m okay.”

“Okay.”

You watch the way he steels his face again, looking at you on your knees in front of him like that’s where you’re meant to be. His hands work at his belt, a soft hiss escaping when he presses his palm down the front of his pants. His head tilts back, displaying his thick neck, the rising pinkness across his pale throat, and he breathes a laugh. “Now, Princess- Wait!” You jump at the suddenness of Eddie pulling his hand from his pants only to clasp them at his waist as he half-jogs towards the door. “Just a second. Don’t move!”

Eddie disappears through the door, mumbling to himself. His words are faint but it’s clear enough that he is looking for something. You close your eyes, focusing on his voice, however fuzzy. You never thought you could have something like this. Someone like Eddie. Someone safe. So safe that you can abandon yourself to fulfilling a silly fantasy thought up under the covers of your bed.

Something catches your hair and you open your eyes to find him standing over you again. The tip of his tongue curls over his top lip as he places the plastic silver tiara just so on your head. When it’s as he wants it, his teeth show with his smile. “Perfect,” he says, pressing two fingers to your chin and turning your head each way. “My Princess, mm? I’m going to show you what it is to be mine.”

Eddie reaches into his pants to pull himself free. His hand drags over the shaft, quick and dirty, just for a moment’s relief if the clench of his jaw the second he stops is any indicator.

You think you know what to do now, tipping your chin, opening your mouth, ready to take him. Only he angles his head away from your tongue. You peer up at him in confusion, watch the way his excitement plays out on his face. “C’mere, Princess.”

Cupping your cheek with his spare hand, he guides you to the base of his cock, where he is softest. Your lips graze the fuzzy skin of his balls and Eddie makes a noise that has you squirming for the lightest touch between your legs. You kiss delicately, blinking up at him, watching his thumb rub over the head of his cock, catching wetness to ease the slow movement of his hand. He taps his fingers on your cheek gently. “Open up. Want your tongue.”

Your toes curl. You want to taste him here, aching at the smell of him; like his neck at the end of the day in Summer, his sweat and musk, fading body wash. You want to make Eddie feel good so badly, you think you might do whatever he asks as long as he looks at you the way he is now.

You reach for him, palm settling on his knee where denim meets exposed skin. Opening your mouth, you lick quickly at the seam of his balls, taste salt on soft skin. He groans, fingers flexing around your jaw. “That’s it,” he encourages. “Fuck yes,” Eddie bites out when you lick broad and wet up to the base of his cock, thinking of his wide tongue drawing upwards from your pussy to your clit. “Fuck, yes.”

He draws you back, smiling down at you. It makes your face burn, but you struggle between looking him in the eyes and staring at his cock. His balls are pink and wet from your attention, his hand moves steadily over his length, drawing folds of skin over his thick head and back.

“Want you to suck on them a little,” he tells you. The pause he leaves gives a moment for you to squeeze at his knee, as if presenting your open mouth wouldn’t be enough to show your agreement. He drags the weight of his balls over your chin to your wet tongue, listing off curses when your lips close just enough to suck gently. Eddie’s hand moves faster over his length, the curve of his fingers brushing your forehead with each tug.

Eddie’s groans are all that matter now. His sack is heavy, falling past your lips the wider you open your mouth. “So fuckin’ full cause of you,” Eddie bites. You hum, closing your eyes, his hips stutter. First towards the warmth of your mouth and then away entirely, replacing his sack with the head of his cock tapping against your tongue.

Eddie gasps when you lap at his leaking tip. “Can I-” He pauses, rephrases, puts on the right tone. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, Princess.”

He watches you carefully, gives you time to tell him no. You squeeze his knee once more, gaze moving from his dark eyes to his cock. You press a quick kiss to the swollen head, a darker pink than the rest of him where it peeks through folds of skin, then let him press your head back against the mattress.

Eddie’s cock glides smoothly over your tongue to the top of your throat. “Fuck,” he breathes, rolling his hips. “M’starting to think this is what you wanted the whole time.” He eases further, just past the entrance of your throat. It’s easier, like this. You are more open to him with your head tilted back this way. He holds himself in the warmth of your mouth, watching you blinking back tears to try and keep him clear in your gaze. Finally your throat protests, and Eddie draws back till you can suck at his head, the exposed length of his cock shining with your spit. You gaze at him, wanting him to be proud of you for taking him deeper than you have before. He makes a soft encouraging noise, but Eddie like this won’t give you the validation you want so easily. “Teased me for so long. I think I deserve to take what I want, now.”

Eddie thrusts slowly at first, easing you in despite his words. The hand that was on your cheek now stroking at your heated forehead.

You like it like this.

You liked having him in your mouth the first time, and every time after that. Like watching him shake, hearing him groan and whine, and knowing that you’re the one making him like that. You like focusing on him; lick here, nip there, let him feel you moan around him. Now, you don’t even have to think about how best to please him. You can focus on your breathing, taking air in through your nose when he pulls back enough. And on Eddie and how he looks as he takes his pleasure from you.

Eddie’s so beautiful. His dark hair frizzes around his face, eyes crinkling at the sides when he closes them and groans into the air. His neck is pink, a pretty blush crawling up to his cheeks as his thrusts speed up. “We’re gonna do this all the time, Princess, you hear me?” He grits, fingers curling into the sheets at the side of your head. You moan in answer, pleased when it makes his cock twitch in your mouth, his tip dipping deep enough past the entrance of your throat that you can’t blink away the wetness that springs to your eyes. “You’re gonna be in my bed all the time, maybe I’ll tie you up, mm?” He presses deep again, then holds steady. When the tears collected at the corners of your eyes start to fall, he wipes them away before they can reach the apples of your cheeks. “Keep you here, just for me. Don’t need to see or talk to anyone else ever again.”

If your head weren’t fuzzy, you’d start questioning why that makes you ache. Eddie withdraws his cock from the top of your throat and you only take a second to gasp in the air you need before following him, reaching up to touch the inches of his cock your mouth still can’t quite cover. Eddie laughs through a moan at the feeling of you jerking his cock into your mouth, licking wet at the end of him. “You want that, huh? Hey-” He drags you away from his cock, leaving you with wet, pleading eyes looking up at him. “You want that?” Your mouth opens, then closes. Your hips roll, seeking friction you can’t get while kneeling like this. Eddie’s eyes flick down, lips turning up at the sight. “Get on the bed for me, mm?”

Eddie reaches a hand out to help you sit up on his mattress. Then he pulls his shirt off over the back of his head, exposing all the soft pale skin and dark ink of his torso. You pull your dress up too, knocking your tiara in the process. When the dress is off entirely, Eddie’s there in an instant to fix it for you, his fingers caressing your cheek when he’s done. “Hey, uh. Am I doing alright? Is this the sort of thing you imagined?”

“This is better,” you tell him earnestly, loving how pleased he looks. You’re learning that this, the pleasure gained from praise, is something you and Eddie share. You love it when Eddie calls you good, or smart, or sweet. When he tells you that you’re good at something he’s teaching you. In turn, Eddie likes it when you tell him how good he makes you feel, that he’s doing everything right, that he’s looking after you exactly how you want it.

He kisses you, and it’s softer this time until he bites gently at your bottom lip as he’s pulling away. “C’mon and lie down, Princess,” he says, guiding you to lay down. You press your legs together, knees bent and feet flat to the mattress as Eddie climbs up after you. His hands stroke up and down your thighs, making you giggle softly as he passes ticklish spots. It relaxes you enough to let him guide your legs open and back, allowing him closer. Eddie tilts his head, thumbing the little blue bow at the waistband of your panties. “You really want me to tie you up?”

Without thinking, you glance quickly at the handcuffs hanging from his door. You feel the beat of your heart against your chest, wondering if you’re ready for that, knowing really that you’re not. Eddie’s hand cups your cheek, directing your gaze back to him. He kisses your knee. “Not tonight, Princess.” He leans in, whispers. “And only ever if you really want, okay?”

“I know, Eddie,” you answer. And you do. You know that as much as Eddie is teaching you, seemingly leading you along to each new experience, in truth he’s making sure you set the pace.

“Take this off for me,” he says, pulling at the strap of your bra. You reach underneath your back to unhook it, shimmying it off your arms and letting it drop to his floor. Once you’re settled, he takes both your hands in his, pulling them up over your head. You can’t help but giggle, feeling both nervous and giddy. “Hold onto the headboard?” You follow the instruction, wrapping your fingers around one of the wooden slats. Stretched like this, chest presented to him, you feel open and exposed, your nipples tightening from the cold air and from Eddie’s attention. “Don’t let go, mm?”

He leans down, kissing from the base of your neck down the skin between your breasts, his hair dragging behind him, tickling the sensitive skin. He leaves a wet mark on the curve of your left breast, the sting of his teeth quickly soothed by his tongue. When he takes the tight bud of your nipple between his lips, your whole body tenses. It’s a test of your submission, if you can last with only your memory of what it feels like to tangle your fingers in his hair. If you can bear not to tug at it when he flicks his tongue like that.

Your hands tighten around the wood, hips tilting to find his cock where he tucked it back in his boxers, still hard and throbbing between your legs. The friction, however light, against where you have been waiting for him all evening, is too good to give up, and you keep searching for his hardness to rub against.

Eddie releases your breasts with a grin. “You want it bad, huh, Princess?”

You whine, melting when he presses his hips forward to give you more delicious friction along your pussy. He huffs a laugh, sitting up and quickly reaching out for the pack of Trojans on his bedside. You watch him kneel between your legs, the way he fists his cock while he tears at the foil square with his teeth, his desperation to roll the condom over his length. Eddie shuffles forward on his knees and presses his wide hands to the back of your thighs. He gently guides your legs back, hitching your hips up for better access to your pussy, wet and swollen under his gaze.

“Wanted this for so long, Princess,” he says. “You’ve been waiting too, hmm?”

“Yes, Eddie. Been waiting so long.” You nearly cry from relief when his cock latches at your entrance, then from despair when he stills instead of filling you. The headboard creaks from your squirming. “Please,” you whisper, sounding pathetic in a way that would embarrass you if you weren’t aching from the emptiness.

Eddie stretches you perfectly as he presses inside your slick cunt. The tease of pain feels good now that your body recognises what it means, where Eddie filling you up leads. “Good?” He asks, once he’s deep enough inside that the curls of hair above his cock are teasing your clit.

You mean to answer properly, but the intention is overtaken by the need for him to move. Waiting for him, your fingers tighten around the wood so much you swear there will be marks from your nails. “Eddie.” It comes out whinier than you intended, but he certainly doesn’t mind.

“Eddie,” he mimics breathily, his teeth showing as the heat of pleasant humiliation crawls up your spine. He doesn’t keep you waiting any longer, snapping his hips to draw back and press deep again through your clenching cunt.

You’ve been under him every time, but like this you feel helpless. Hands voluntarily useless, body tilted up and legs opened by his hands, your body presented to him and positioned perfectly for him to set the pace. It feels right for this - you know now what the romance novels you hide under your bed mean when the heroine is taken.

Your toes curl when Eddie’s hips roll just right, the heavy head of his cock hitting the end of you. When he reaches between you to press a thumb to your clit and rub in tight circles, your body tilts, hips trying to chase the pleasure, only for Eddie to press you back down to where he wants you.

“I like it,” you answer. “I like it, Eddie.”

“You like it, like this, hm?” Eddie asks. You blink at him slowly, wondering if it’s your boyfriend or Eddie the Banished asking. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe it, hair shaking. “Knew you would. Pretty Princess just needed to be fucked right, mm?” You shudder, tightening around his cock enough that he gasps, “fuckfuckfuck. S’good. It’s so good, honey.”

You breathe a laugh. “Princess, to you.”

“My apologies,” he says, snapping his hips to land heavy against the spot at the back of your pussy. You gasp, legs kicking out against his grip involuntarily only for him to tighten his grip and push them back to where he wants them. You can hear how wet you are, the sound of him moving inside you as loud as the bed springs, as loud as your moans. “Mine now, aren’t you, Princess?”

You nod easily. “Yes.”

“Gonna give me everything I want from now on, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yes-”

“Made it so easy for me. Should have just done this in the beginning, just taken you for myself.”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, head tilting back as his hips speed up. “Fuck, I can’t- Can’t get enough of that.” When he looks back to you, the detached, mocking look is gone. He’s all intensity and warmth, your Eddie again. Your whole body tightens. “Tells me everything I need to know when you say my name like that.” He gives you a mean thrust, tongue peeking out as he watches where you’re connected, the slick coating his cock, before his gaze returns to your pleasured, sweaty face. “You’re so fucking good, you know that? So fucking good, the way you talk to me. Telling me what you want. Not gonna hide anything like that from me again, are you?”

“Nuh,” you manage, legs twitching. “Eddie.”

”Again,” he gasps. “Please. My sweet girl-”

“Eddie. Eddie-”

Maybe you keep chanting his name, maybe you cry it out, maybe you stop altogether to scream out instead. You don’t know. You just know he’s all you’re thinking of as the pleasure crests, spreading out from the back of your cunt through your body until it’s intense enough you think you might cry. Then it fades to the gentle delight of Eddie still moving inside you, the warmth and weight of his cock when he buries himself deep. You hear him groan, feel the potential for bruises blooming where his fingers dig into your thighs. Then it’s his weight easing down on top of you, the ache in your shoulders and your legs as you let them relax before wrapping yourself around him.

You finally get your hands in his hair. The roots are damp from sweat, his curls tangled in knots. Eddie’s face is pressed so fully to the space between your breasts that you’re not convinced he can be breathing. He mumbles something that’s lost to your ears, then tilts his head up till you can see his face, and his goofy smile. Your heart aches even as you giggle. Then he’s crawling up your body to kiss you, his mouth warm and tasting like the sweat from his upper lip.

“I’m gonna pull out now but I want it known that it’ll take amazing strength of will on my part.”

He does so, disappearing from the bed for less than five seconds to throw out the condom before flopping next to you again and opening his arms to let you clamber into his hold again, you try to fight the rising worries by pressing your face into his neck. He hisses at the scrape of the plastic tiara under his chin, taking it off himself before returning to stroke at your temple with his fingers. “How do you feel, sweet girl?”

It takes you a minute to answer, sorting through all the complicated feelings that emerged the second Eddie wasn’t inside you anymore. “Good,” you murmur. Then, “weird.”

You hate how fast it all happens so soon after something so special. You feel overwhelmed and tired, like you want to scrub yourself raw under hot water, like you want to curl up in Eddie’s arms and smell like him forever. You feel like you don’t want to ever be touched again, but the thought that Eddie won’t makes your heart sore. You wish you were normal. You wish you didn’t have weird fantasies. You wish you didn’t feel guilty about what you want.

Eddie holds you tight against him, and you let yourself feel the comfort of that. Eddie doesn’t think you’re weird, or gross, or immoral. Eddie won’t ever leave you alone to cry and scratch at your crawling skin.

He presses his lips to your forehead, mumbles against your skin. “Gonna let me look after you?”

He keeps you with him while he runs a bath. You’re wrapped in a towel while he runs around naked, giving you mock coquettish looks over his shoulder every now and then until he gets a giggle from you. As steam starts to rise from the tub, he searches through the cabinet under the sink before emerging with a bottle filled with suspiciously bright orange liquid. “We don’t have bubble bath but, uh, this is six-in-one.”

You try sitting in the water together, wrapped up in him, but the pins and needles come too fast, eight limbs not quite fitting as they should. You end up facing him, legs tucked up to your chest, watching the water drip from dark ends of his hair.

“Not as romantic as I’d hoped,” he says.

“It’s okay. I like looking at you.”

His dimples show. Sweetest boy on Earth. He splashes at you a little, waiting for you to smile before talking. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” you answer honestly. Somewhere between giggling at Eddie rushing to his bedroom to fetch towels for you both, a hair tie for you, with his hands covering the crack of his ass while leaving his dick uncovered and him quietly insisting on taking the side of the tub with the tap at his back, the grey cloud hanging over you faded. “Cause of you,” you say, splashing him back.

Eddie smiles, resting his face against his knee. “Is there anything I can do, you know, to make it better, like, before it happens?” He reaches for your hand in the water. “Cause it hasn’t, in a while. I know that this was, like, different, but if I did something-”

“No,” you interrupt. “It wasn’t you.” Eddie lets that sit for a while, waiting for you to continue. “When it’s just me and you, it’s like-” You swallow. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being really, actually myself for the first time in my whole life.” Eddie’s eyes are so soft, looking at you now. “And I know that you won’t ever judge me for…my fantasies, or whatever. But then it’s like, it’s almost like- Like without even wanting to, I imagine what other people would say, if they knew the stuff I told you. If they saw how I am, when it’s just us. And then I just feel like, even though they’re not there, it’s ruined it.”

Eddie squeezes your hand, sighs with his whole body. “That sounds exhausting.”

Tears prick in your eyes even as you laugh without real mirth. “It is.”

“Well, you know this stuff really is always going to be just me and you. Right?”

“I know, Eddie.”

“I wish I could fix it for you, sweet thing.”

You close your eyes tight, trying to force back the tears. You swallow the lump in your throat, thinking, me too. Instead, you sigh, remind yourself that however hard it is now, you’re sure it used to be worse. Before you had Eddie and his humour, his touch, his kindness. “You make it better, Eddie. I promise.”

He’s perfectly gentle with you the rest of the evening, curling back up with you on the couch when you’re dry to restart Theatre of Blood. You let yourself sink into his chest, playing with his rings. You are just about engrossed in the story again, watching with sick fascination as the first critic is stabbed like Julius Caesar. Then, a thought suddenly occurs.

“Did…did you say the soap was six-in-one?”

“Sure did,” Eddie answers. “Face, body, hair, laundry, pets and dishes.”

“That’s why it smells like the terrier next door.”

Eddie hums, lifts your hand to his face and sniffs. “You mean that’s why we smell like the terrier next door.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x shy!reader

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago

Text

Remember Me? (Part four)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: very small chapter, but I felt like adding more to this part would not be good, so I'll try my best to write the next chapter quickly. Though I will not make any promises as my exams start from Wednesday, and I need to study for them.

•○🌑○•

Y/n glared at the redhead at her doorway.

She wanted to tell him to leave, but she couldn't turn him away now that her son had seen the visitor.

Eris smiled at Fin, stepping closer to the threshold, and Y/n almost slammed the door in his face in a panic that gripped her. Eris's eyes flew to her, and he raised his hands. He gave her a look that said no harm intended.

She hesitantly inched the door open, wondering about what his motives might be in visiting them, especially in the dead of the night. It also didn't help that her son was so eager about a stranger.

She'll have to have a chat with him.

But for now, she let Eris in.

He stepped in, nodding at her before again turning to Fin, grinning.

"It's good seeing you again."

Due to the heavy rain outside, Eris was dripping wet, droplets of water cascading down his body and dropping everywhere from his soaked clothes. And she wouldn't clean it, especially when the person making the mess wasn't welcome.

"I hope you realise you are making a mess. You will be cleaning it."

Eris blinked at her as she shut the door and turned to him, her arms crossed across her chest. "You're talking to me?"

"I don't see anyone else I could be talking to. You are soaked and dripping water everywhere. I will not be cleaning it."

"Oh, alright."

And despite everything, she watched intently as his clothes dried up, his body glowing lightly. Even the small puddle that he had created on the floor hissed and vanished, as if it never existed.

Fin gasped, staring wide eyed at the display of magic. "How did you do that?!"

"It's my magic, young one."

"Really?" Fin stared at the Autumn Court's High Lord in wonder.

"Really." Eris smiled.

"What else can you do?"

"Hmm. I have fire magic, so I can do anything related to it."

Fin giggled, grabbing Eris's hand and tugging him into the living room.

Y/n sighed. She really did need to talk to her son.

She could do that later. At the moment, she decided to follow them. But after she made some tea. It was late, and she could feel a headache coming.

By the time the tea had brewed and she poured it into two cups, Eris had made himself at home on her couch. He was leaning back, nodding along as Fin showed him his toys.

Eris glanced back, realising Y/n was back. He straightened, still nodding along to Fin, but now looking at her.

She set a cup down in front of him, leaning against the doorframe leading towards the staircase that led to their bedroom.

She just watched as Fin and Eris played, Fin mostly running to his toys box, bringing out a new toy, handing it to Eris, and then running back to get something new.

Within a few moments, there was a pile of toys next to Eris on the couch, and never once did he stop paying attention to the little child speaking enthusiastically. He didn't seem to notice anything other than Fin.

Which was cute.

Y/n didn't know where that thought came from, but it did.

•○🌑○•

Y/n sighed. It had almost been an hour since Eris had arrived, and Fin showed no signs of stopping.

Eris had, at some point, begun to make figurines out of his fire magic, making little animals float above his hands before making them run through the air around a giggling and squealing Fin.

By midnight, Y/n's restrain snapped.

"Finnian. Its time for bed. Come on, let's go."

Fin looked up with placating eyes. "Please mama. Just a few more–"

"You better get back to the bedroom young man, before I yell at you. We both know we don't want that." She said, gentle but stern.

His eyes filed with tears and he dropped the toy he was holding in his hand into the box. After that, he simply waddled away.

Y/n watched his every move until he disappeared upstairs, guilt gnawing at her heart. She sighed before turning back to her unwanted guest.

He sat there looking extremely uncomfortable. He sat at attention when her eyes met his, looking ready to bolt.

She walked closer, her arms folded across her chest. He stood up quickly when she entered his personal space.

"Eris." She regarded him coldly. "I don't know what you want with me or my son. I don't know why you are so interested in our lives. But I do know that I will not be tolerating your bullshit until you give me a good reason not to gut you like a fish. You hear me?"

He nodded, opening his mouth. She didn't give him a chance.

"Good. Now get out. And don't show your face until you have a good reason."

She made to turn away, but Eris interrupted her.

"I can't leave. Have you seen the rain outside? I'll catch a cold. And where will I go–"

"There's plenty of places where you can crash for the night. For instance, an Inn in Velaris could surely accommodate you. And as for you being wet, you can perform your little party trick to dry up."

"Come on, it's just for one night! I'll leave in the morning. Please, he would want me to stay."

Y/n sighed deeply. "Eris. Get. Out. If you are so desperate to spend time with my son, then you can come back later. For now, I not letting a practical stranger live under the same roof as my son."

The two of them had a staring competition for a few moments before he caved.

"Fine." He turned away, walking out of the door. She slammed it shut the moment he stepped fully over the threshold.

She leaned back against the door, staring up at the ceiling. Tears of frustration pricked at her eyes.

Why was it always her?

It wasn't fair, her life being filled with hardships.

First she got pregnant with the child of a male she thought loved her, then she had to run away from home when she found out she was with child. She had to live in a cottage all alone, never stepping outside for fear that her father would be waiting to capture her. She raised her son all by herself, knowing nothing about how to care for a baby.

And now, she had run into the father of her child, who wanted nothing to do with her, had no hand in raising the child, but still thought he was entitled to him.

And a practical stranger was so invested in her and her son's life that he was showing up to their door in the middle of the night.

Life was just great.

She let out a frustrated breath before retreating to her bedroom, where she found Fin lying down, facing away from the door. If she hadn't been paying attention, she would have thought that he was asleep.

But he wasn't. She could hear faint sniffling sounds coming from him, and her heart broke in her chest.

She hadn't yelled at him by any means, but she knew she still hurt his feelings.

She slowly tiptoed behind him, lying down and then snaking an arm around his small frame.

"Hey." She whispered. He stayed quiet.

When she tried to tug him back towards her so she could hug him, he wiggled away angrily. "I'm sorry. Could you consider forgiving me?"

He shook his head, his sniffles increasing.

"Please tell me why you are angry my love."

She tried to tug him back again. This time he let her.

He was quiet for a few moment as she combed her fingers through his hair. "You didn't let me play with him. You almost yelled at me."

"I'm sorry for that." And she was sorry. Because she knew it wasn't his fault she was insecure and scared of trusting others. "Really. Please forgive me?"

He turned to look at her, his face red and wet, tears lining his eyes and lashes. "I wanted to play with him mommy."

"You can play with him some other time. It was getting late and you could have gotten sick if you stayed up long. I'm still sorry for almost yelling."

He nodded, scrunching his tiny little face. "Okay. I forgive you."

She held back a grin, feeling bad for wanting to laugh at his despair. No one should blame her though, kids were just funny like that.

"Thank you very much."

"Where is he now?"

"He left. He is staying somewhere else."

"Why? He could have stayed here with us."

"Baby, do you remember what I told ypu about strangers?" When he nodded, she continued. "He is a stranger to you, is he not?"

Fin stayed quiet.

"You should not trust strangers so much."

"But you know him mama. He is not a stranger if you know him right?"

He got her there.

"Yes darling, but I don't know him well. I'm not saying you should not play with him. I'm just saying you should be careful around other strangers. And I am also trying to understand why you like him so much."

He played with his fingers for a couple of moments before answering.

"Because I don't have anyone to play with."

She stilled, then whispered. "What?"

He nodded, not meeting her eyes.

"I don't have any friends, other than Sam and Nyx. And I don't even play with them that much. I feel very lonely mama."

Her heart cracked for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

She realised that in her need to protect her baby from the evil of this world, she had kept him from the happiness and joy too.

And that would simply not do.

"You have me to play with." She pointed out weakly.

"But you have been very busy and you seem very stressed all the time. I didn't want to disturb you."

She beat back the tears that threatened to clog her throat. "I will never be too busy to play with you. And you don't have to worry about disturbing me. Ever." Then, she added. "If it helps, Eris is going to come by tomorrow. I told him he can come to play with you."

She didn't know if that would happen, considering the verbal lashing that she gave him before kicking him out. Though she did hope he came by, because nothing was more important to her than Fin's happiness. And as for his safety, she was there to protect him.

He instantly brightened. "Really?"

Smiling, she nodded. He squealed before burying himself in the pillows, smiling at her.

She just hoped Eris would not leave Velaris without meeting Fin.

•○🌑○•

Part 5

Taglist: @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @nightless @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @cult-of-enji-todoroki @moonlwghts @laurenzitaa @wallacewillow0773638 @12358

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joelsgoldrush · 2 years ago

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MASTERLIST

here, you'll find all of my works. as always, don't forget to check the warnings on each post. thank you for taking the time to read them :)

© joelsgoldrush. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. i only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

logan howlett:

one shots

➥ give me all of that ultraviolence | logan howlett x f!reader | 2k

you give logan head for the first time.

➥ never is a promise | old man!logan x f!reader | 12.4k

you are everything logan isn’t: sweet, trouble-free, much younger—and, to top it off, charles' caregiver.

➥ epiphany | worst!logan howlett x f!reader | 21k

superheroes and mutants weren’t enough. no—the universe had to throw in soulmates who share scars. fantastic, right? except yours had vanished, only to mysteriously reappear with the arrival of a new face: the “worst” logan howlett, fresh from another earth.

OR what happens when a hopeless romantic crosses paths with the ultimate soulmate skeptic?

➥ blessed are the forgetful | logan howlett x f!reader | 12.4k

to love is to cherish, to endure, to fight. but to love is also to forget—at least, for you and logan. despite countless attempts to erase the part of yourselves that yearns to find completion in each other, you always end up back where it all began: the moment your eyes first met his—the moment everything changed.

series

➠ you can use my skin to bury secrets in | old man!logan x f!reader | 6.8k

saliva floods his mouth as you rise to your feet, looking down at him from above. gracefully angelic, and yet— “i know what i’m asking for,” you continue, your voice descending to a low murmur that scratches pleasantly against some dark and remote corner of his brain. then you lower yourself onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his waist. you repeat your question: “can i help you?”

OR logan had always known your generosity would get him in trouble.

➠ crawl home to her | old man!logan x f!reader | 7.5k

will he be able to control himself once he's near you? in this moment, he feels more animal than human. creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.

OR like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.

➠ guilty pleasure | worst!logan howlett x f!reader | 8.6k

after saving earth-10005 from impending disaster, wade convinces logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. he’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

➠ give me the first taste | worst!logan howlett x f!reader | 10k

from the moment you first laid eyes on logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. but if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. as your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

joel miller:

one shots

➥ swore i heard you whisper that you preferred us like that | joel miller x f!reader | 5.8k

you ask joel –the quiet, distant joel– to teach you how to ride a horse. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and it must be true, because when he really sees you, it´s like he finally understands what you feel for him.

➥ lovers once a year | dbf!joel miller x f!reader | 9.4k

one always craves what is out of reach. like the forbidden fruit that lingers just beyond grasp, tempting with its sweetness. joel became the town’s greatest sinner, and you, his best friend’s daughter, are the tantalizing temptation he knows he should never indulge in. your very existence marks the path to his ruin. he can't help but follow it.

series

➠ come back same time and place the next night | dad’s coworker!joel miller x f!reader | ongoing

your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker are low, but never zero. turns out the two of you have a lot more in common than you thought, especially when you find out he’s going to be staying at your house for a while. you know what they say: if you can’t beat them, fuck them.

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

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stanfordswifey · 2 years ago

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"Sharing? Oh please."

Part 3. <- You are here

Part 2.

Part 1.

You had just gotten into a short coma, no one knew when you would wake up, hell- no one even knew if you would live.. but two soldiers waited patiently. Giving you gifts daily, visiting you daily and even sleeping in your hospital room, ghost and könig had made a truce and decided to pay off your hospital bills together.

Ghost was your childhood friend, someone you could trust, someone who cares for you, who would do ANYTHING for you. König is your ex boyfriend, you chose him because you really liked his accent, his cute homemade gifts for you, everything he did, he did for you, for your wellbeing, for your good. But he messed up, he messed up bad when you caught him cheating, sure it might have only been a one time thing but it still hurt didn't it? And the fact he was sober too.. all while you were pregnant. But now thats not a worry..

A year had passed by, the doctors had to take away your now dead baby from your stomach, she didn't survive the crash. König felt guilty, he thought it was his fault. But it is his fault.. if only he hadn't been cheating-- your thoughts pause, you felt your body getting warmer, you finally regained consciousness again.

You wake up, fluttering your heavy eyelids open to see simon on the couch beside you, he looked peaceful. You couldn't help but smile.

"si..?"

You mumble, your mouth was dry and your voice was barely comprehensable but he heard and immediately got up.

"Love?"

His eyes widen at the sight of you smiling, his heart feeling warmth after so long. He rushed over and pulled you in for a hug, tears in his eyes threatening to fall.

"You're awake! Oh my god.. i missed you so much"

You chuckle, hugging him back, ignoring the pain everywhere in your body. You smile at him, pulling away from said hug.

"where's.. where's könig?"

You ask, hope in your voice vanishing when ghost opened his mouth. He felt his heart clench, his tears falling down. Even after all of that.. you're still looking for him..?

"he's busy, but i'm here.. please! I can treat you better"

You cant help but chuckle at him awkwardly, tilting your head in confusion.

"You like me? I thought you only ever saw me as a friend"

His heart throbbed at those words. 'Friend' friend?! Would a friend wait for years just to be with you?

He hugged you again, tears falling. You hug him back, knowing it's not often he'd be willing to hug someone.

"Please.. give me a chance love, i can treat you better! You deserve better"

Ghost begs, pulling away from the hug and kneeling down, looking up wt you with pleading eyes, this gets you off guard and you look dumbfounded at the sight. The door opens to reveal a chuckling könig at the other side.

"Ghost? I thought you were better than that"

He chuckled, ghost getting up and rolling his eyes, standing in front of your bed in a defensive stance, clearly irritated.

"Look who's talking."

He barked, könig getting hurt but doesnt show ot, he walks over to you and places his hand on your cheek, caressing your face gently, he smiled at you so lovingly before placing a kiss on your forehead, the feeling of his masked lips giving you butterflies.

"König.. i told you we were over didnt i?"

You hiss, pushing him away. Ghost smirks, finding the whole situation amusing. König lets go of you, sitting down and sighing, trying to keep his emotions in check as to not cry.

"You heard what the lady said"

"Shatz, please.. i'll do better this ti-"

"Shut up. You cheated on me."

"4 years of dating and you still cheated? Shame on you könig"

König scoffs, turning to ghost and glaring at him angrily.

"I, however, could treat her better."

He whispers, playing with your hair gently, his gloved hands feeling soft and comforting, you felt butterflies and you blush.

"As if. You don't deserve her."

Konig says in a rude tone, holding your hand lovingly. The two men making you a blushing mess and you're screaming in your head.

"guys please- i'm tire-"

"Do you want a snack?"

"I can order you McDonald's if you want"

"I'll buy you anything you want, sweetheart"

"I can go get some water for you"

They cut eachother off, competing for your love. You cant help but blush, turning away and regaining your cool before responding.

"Water and food sounds great"

They give you a smile, both of them walking away to get what you need.

The moment they got outside of the room, könig turns to ghost.

"I think she still likes me"

"She blushed at me earlier"

They turn towards eachother

"..you saw her blush at us earlier right?"

"Let's keep this up for a bit, i think she's into us both"

Simon turns to könig with an irritated expression, crossing his arms.

"I'm not sharing."

"Well, neither am i"

"Guess she's going to have to pick then."

YEAHHH PART 4 IS OTW YALL <3

there might be smut in the next part..

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mika-no-sekai-blog · 21 days ago

Text

Part III

Word count: +3900

Warnings: angst, very slight mentions of past SA, frostbites and some chuchu-muchu😉 (this chapter isn't so bad that it would need any extra warnings, but let me know if you find something that needs to added)

Part II | Part IV

The ceremony and the party afterwards went smoothly, without any remarkable events. Although, after what I had just witnessed, it was my last worry.

Emotions in Kallias' eyes as he watched her walk behind me with the veil in hands, were like a bucket of cold water, shattering any however small hopes I had.

What would be my position at this place? In this Court? How was I supposed to live here? As what? Forgotten wife? Unwanted burden? Obstacle that at some point would need to vanish quietly?

The future full of uncertainties left me feeling hollow. I wanted to cry actually. I should have listened to my father and run away while I could. Life in exile in Autumn Court would be much better than this. The fact that despite everything, Kallias was trying — pretending — made it even worse.

When I arrived at the altar, he gently took my hand and tried to smile happily. As we stood there, listening the priestess, he held me closely, trying to comfort me. After we said our vows and priestess blessed the union, it was time for a kiss and he tried to do it properly. Above all the expectations of the gathered. During the dinner and the following party, he tried converse with me, asking about my childhood, hobbies and even opinions. He went so far as pretending the interest while trying to get to know me.

Every his try was more and more painful. It was like standing in front of a magical mirror that was showing me — torturing me — with imagines of what could have been. How my married life could have looked like, if he didn't have feelings for someone else. It would be much easier, if he just simply despised me from the very beginning than giving me fake hopes. If he drew clear line on the start, I could be sure about my role, I would know how to behave. And most importantly, my heart would stay behind the walls, protected. Where there is no hope, love cannot flourish. Falling in love with Kallias would do me no good — I understood that. Yet if he kept acting this way...

It would be so easy to fall in love with him. On top of being handsome, he really seemed to be a kind person, attentive, intelligent, calm and soft-hearted. Growing up in estate where only so few young males resided and all hated me or completely ignored me, couldn't prepare me for this. I didn't want to end up as all the naive females in novels I read — falling for wrong male just to be handed own broken heart on tray.

Oh, Mother, why had you woven this fate for me? Did I offend you so much by being born?

At some point, the need to shake him got so strong that I had to clench my fingers into chair's armrest. I wanted to tell him to stop pretending when his true feelings were so clear, but I couldn't. Instead I was spiralling and anxiously observing every small change, every slip in his expression.

As we were sitting at the table, conversing, his eyes often wandered to the place where Viviane was seated next to the blond female in elegant red dress who for sure wasn't from this Court. The two of them seemed to have a good time, talking lively and laughing.

Every time he did it, I peaked at Viviane, expecting her to meet his gaze with the similar mixture of emotions. I didn't know why, but I needed that one last push that would completely shatter my hopes. I even prayed for it.

As if sensing it, she always looked up at me, smiling brightly, contently even, at both of us. I watched her closely, analysing her expression to the smallest details, yet I couldn't find any evidence of longing, pain or suppressed feelings, not even in depths of her beautiful eyes. The only tracks of love I found, was love of a good friend, sibling at the best. Instead of being relieved or satisfied, it saddened me and suddenly I felt sorry for him. Was she so blind that she hadn't noticed it yet? Or she just didn't want to acknowledge his feelings?

Last time it happened shortly before we were expected to leave the party and head to the chambers, the tiny lines formed around his lips. His disappointment hurt me more than I cared to admit. Out of sympathy, I gently touched his forearm. He slightly jerked, his eyes wide as he turned to me. For several heartbeats, he stared at me, shocked. Then his expression darkened, an icy mask slid down with loud click. He shook off my hand and moved away from me as far as he could while sitting on his chair. After that he stopped trying to talk with me and ignored me for the rest of the time we spent at party.

Before any emotions got the better of me, I cut them off. Maybe it was better this way.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice that High Lord stood up, giving a speech, not until Kallias next to me stood up, too. He was looking down at some unspecified place on the table with a hand ready for me to grab on it. I did what was expected of me. We both did.

My attention shifted to my father. He looked sad, yet he smiled at me. My chest tightened painfully and I blinked away the tears. All of sudden, I had a very strange feeling that this was the last time I could see him. It was so suffocating. And Morena's expression didn't help it. Out of the corner of the eye I noticed her wide grin, the gleam in her eyes made me feel sick. The need to not let him go and to keep him here with me only grew. I felt nauseous, cold sweat rolling down my spine.

"Everything fine?" Kallias asked under his breath. Only then did I notice that I was quite trembling and squeezing his hand so tightly that my knuckles were white. However, I wasn't able to answer. I couldn't even as much as move, all my muscles locked. "You will be able to say goodbye to your family tomorrow before they leave. No need to worry."

The softness of his deep voice and the reassurance took away some of the weight pressing down on my chest and my lungs filled with air. I slowly turned to him. His expression was alert, but beneath it was hidden understanding.

"Thank you," I whispered.

With the final congratulation, High Lord sent us off. As soon as the door closed behind us, Kallias took off down the corridor, leaving me in care of Millie.

"I will show you to your chambers, milady," she bowed and led me in the same direction Kallias went while pointing out rooms we passed to help me navigate around later. "It was High Lord's wish for you to be close to his son, so we prepared the closest suitable premises for you. I hope you will find them comfortable to live in. Unfortunately, no one informed us about your likes and dislikes, so if you find something missing or wish to change anything, just let me know. I will take care of your needs from now on."

"Thank you, Millie. I'm sure you did great job. I'll certainly like it," corners of my mouth curled in a small, polite smile. Because of what she saw before the ceremony I wasn't sure how to behave around her. She must have thought something was wrong with me. With her own smile she tilted her head to the side, looking me over with curiosity. I got nervous. "Is.. something wrong?"

"No, milady," she fully grinned. "I was just thinking that you are different from the other aristocrats and especially, from the young ladies."

"Is it a bad thing?" I frowned, my palms sweating.

"Oh, it's a great thing, milady. You are more like his Highness and his family. It isn't my place to say this, but I think you will get along pretty well with young master."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, pleasantly surprised by Millie's boldness. "I hope so." Being it a different situation, her words would have made me happy. Right now the only thing I knew for sure was, that love was out of question as Kallias' heart already belonged to someone else. Maybe.. maybe someday we could become friends, though. I stored the idea in the back of my mind for the later, focussing on the present.

Climbing the flight of stairs, we got to the highest floor, dimly lit with faelights. Hallways here were wider with a sets of windows on one side. Intrigued, I stopped by one, looking out into the night.

From up here I could see back gardens and castle grounds and also a small part of the city on the other side of gorge. The view was, however, blocked by the wall. When I focussed, I could see seemingly never ending mountain range surrounding the castle and the city, with white dusted peaks that glittered in the moonlight. On one of the closest peaks that was rather a smaller one, I noticed a faint flicker of light.

"Millie? Is there anything up there?"

She stepped closer to see where I was pointing. "It could be the temple, but it's hard to say when it's so dark outside. It should be easier to see it during the day. I'm sure young master will eventually take you there, milady, as it's a place of great importance."

I nodded and followed her. There was only one set of doors in this hallway. Millie opened them and holding them for me, she waited. "These are your chambers, milady."

"And Kallias'?" I looked around in confusion. Didn't she mention that his chambers should be nearby?

"Well, his doors are located in different hallway, but as you will see, you won't need it, milady."

I hesitantly took last few steps and entered the most beautiful sitting room I'd seen in my life. Soft tiny faelights hanging from ceiling in chains like some icicles created play of light and shadow on the snow-white walls, flames roared in the big hearth, sending pleasant waves of warmth into the room. The set of comfortable looking sofas and armchairs occupied most of this space, several half filled wooden bookcases and chests decorated otherwise empty walls. Wooden floor, thick carpet, candles, blankets and pillows added to the overall welcoming comfort of this room.

My curiosity pulled me to the enormous windows that led to the balcony and the fascinating view. In awe I pushed a light lacy curtain aside to take a better look. An entire city on the other side of the gorge laid there like on my palm. I could see as far as to the flickering lights of the first gate and if it wasn't night, certainly even far beyond it.

The city was bigger than I originally thought, scrambling up and down gentle slopes, closed in between jagged peaks. The streets of the city were flooded with warm soft light, white snow making it shine even brighter, the dark windows of houses in sharp contrast with that beauty. My gaze followed those bright narrow veins that connected with each other, creating wide arteries, to the very heart of the town where they opened into a large space with probably the highest spruce tree I'd ever seen in its centre. The square shone with colours. Even from afar I could see long tables with food and people laughing and dancing. It was just as Viviane told me - everyone was out, celebrating. I was so taken by that fairytale like scenery that I didn't notice that Millie left and returned after several minutes.

"Your bath is ready," she said, kind smile lifting corners of her mouth.

"I didn't know there could be something so beautiful as this place. I always thought that the capital is cold, inhospitable city," I confessed.

"Now now," she snorted in amusement. "Wait until you see it decorated for Solstice, milady."

That piqued my interest. The Solstice was the biggest and most important celebration in Winter Court and it was only about a month from now. Even such almost deserted places as my home got excessively decorated with ribbons and glittery decorations, smell of all sorts of cakes, foods and mulled wine filling the air and mixing with smell of pine needles and freshly fallen snow. While I heard that all celebrations were over in just few days in other courts, in Winter it lasted for an entire month. Everyone seemed to be a bit kinder and generous during that time. Maybe that's why I loved it so much.

"There's going to be big celebration. Young master and his friends every year visit the market in the city. This year, they will take you with them too, milady. I'm sure you will like it," Millie continued as I followed her through the bedroom with enormous bed and hearth to the luxurious looking bathroom. Everything was so cosy.

Bathtub full of steaming water immediately drew my attention. It was big enough for at least three persons, dominating to the space. Set of soft towels waited on its edge, several lit floating candles and pink rose petals inviting one to dip in. Air was filled with smell of floral essential oils, soaps and shampoos, steam making it a bit foggy.

Stress, that was building in me ever since morning, finally took its toll and all of sudden I felt too tired to even think, my body so heavy. I couldn't wait to warm up my limbs in the bath and to head to that comfortable bed I saw moments ago. With a knowing smile, Millie helped me to undress and with a sigh I stretched out in the warm water. I was slightly dozing off while Millie took all the pins from my hair, helped me wash and then massaged my shoulders. Unable to even keep my eyes open, I made a mental note to thank her later for her care. After the bath I accepted the soft bathrobe without giving it much thoughts. It didn't even seem strange to me that there was no nightgown prepared.

"Now, everything is ready. Young master is already waiting for you in bedroom, milady," Millie said cunningly and disappeared in a secret servants' passageway before her words got registered by my sleepy mind.

In a second I was wide awake. Kallias was here? Why? And then the realisation hit me and my stomach churned. It couldn't be for real. It just couldn't...

I started to shake wildly and fell to my knees. Unable to keep it together, I wrapped arms around my chest, holding firmly. All the unpleasant memories of my stepbrother touching me floated to the surface and I sobbed. How could I forget? It was an unbreakable tradition and yet I.. I thought it just simply wouldn't happen. There was no way out of this. Whether I wanted or no, it had to happen. Short for air I doubled over, pressing forehead to marble floor. Its cool surface grounded me down and slowly I calmed down enough to think straight. If I couldn't get out of this situation, I had to come up with a way to survive it.

Kallias! That was it. Kallias wasn't Zima. He was kind - everyone said so about him so far. He would treat me with kindness. If.. if he saw that I wasn't ready, he wouldn't push me into things, right?

However crazy it was, I gripped on the belief that Kallias wouldn't treat me badly and held onto it, pushing every bad memory to the back of my mind where I slammed and locked the imaginary door behind it. In my mind I was repeating his name like some mantra, listing every small way in which he treated me kindly. Everything that was different about him. I hadn't thought that there would be a time when his pretence during wedding and party could come so handy, but here I was.

Still trembling I managed to crawl over to the washbasin and dragged myself up. From there it was only a small step to the door that separated me from the bedroom and my ordeal. Taking a deep breath I opened it with a soft click.

Kallias stood with bowed head in front of the hearth clad in the same looking bathrobe, his back to me. Both of his hands were rested on the mantel, clenched into fists, skin on his knuckles so tight that I almost could see bones beneath. His back was painfully straight, shoulders tense. If I wasn't mistaken, he was nervous.

He didn't seem to notice me as his eyes were hypnotising the dancing flames that roared wildly, yet the room was cool almost cold.

Instinctively I checked the windows, tugging the bathrobe closer. All were closed and locked from inside. A lump rose in my throat.

"Ka..llias..?"

He jerked. "Sorry," he mumbled and the room warmed up again. He turn his head in my direction, though he avoided looking at me. "I.."

He sighed. "Sorry," he repeated, this time properly facing me. His eyes darted over me swiftly and then landed on the bed. He inhaled sharply, holding his breath.

It's Kallias. Kallias. He is kind. He is different.

I desperately held on my mantra as my bottom lip quivered.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, staying like that for awhile.

"Are you cold?" His voice was once again soft, caring. "Come closer and warm up. Your father mentioned that you easily get cold. It's quite rare for someone from the Winter Court, isn't it?"

"Yes." When did he make time to talk with my father? I managed to walk over the room without stumbling, but I was so nervous and scared that I was short for breath, heaving as if I had run a round around the castle before stopping next to him. His brows furrowed, his lips twisted in compassion. "I think I took that after my mother."

"Ah, the lady from Autumn Court, right? I can imagine that the weather here was harsh for someone with fire in veins."

I expected to hear scornfulness in his voice when he spoke about my mother, just as I heard it in voices of everyone except my father, but there was nothing. He said it calmly, casually, almost sorrowfully, as if it was the most natural thing. I was so surprised that I only nodded.

"Then I will have to make sure you are always warm," he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

The uncomfortable silence settled between us. I didn't dare to look at him even though I would give anything to know what he was thinking at, how he felt. Despite being so close to the fire, cold sweat rolled down my spine, my imagination running wild and in absolutely wrong direction.

It's Kallias. He's kind. He won't-

His hand hesitantly touched mine and when I didn't pull away, he entwined his long fingers with mine. His frosty pale skin was soft to touch and cool. Though it didn't cause me pain like-..

It's Kallias. He's different.

I pushed any other thoughts away. It was already hard enough as I could hardly even as much as breathe.

I heard him swallow hard before his other hand reached up, taking my chin between thumb and forefinger. He was so tender when he tilted my face towards him. The way he touched me - it was definitely different. There was nothing violent about it, nothing rough or demanding, yet I played my mantra on repeat.

He leaned closer and..

Stopped.

He was waiting for me, I realized.

Heart hammering in my chest, I risked a glance at him. His crushing blue eyes were already on me, searching. His striking beauty took the last bits of air from my lungs. He looked somehow sad, torment in depths of his eyes. However, the second our gazes collided, he transformed his expression into unreadable mask, locking away anything he felt. If he really loved Viviane so much, this couldn't be anything but unpleasant duty to him. He didn't want to do this — that much was clearly written all over his face just a moment ago — yet he was trying to turn it into a pleasant experience for me.

He gave me last few seconds to prepare before he carefully pressed his lips to mine. His eyes shut closed, brows furrowed - was he imagining that he was holding her? He stilled for few heartbeats and then slightly opened his mouth, tip of his tongue lightly touched my bottom lip before he delivered another kiss. This reminded me of the wedding ceremony. Back then he did exactly the same thing.

He wasn't in hurry, his soft lips lazily dancing over mine, every stroke deeper than the previous one. His fingers moved from my chin to my cheek, cupping it, thumb drawing small circles on my skin. It was.. actually quite pleasant, soothing. However, I needed to keep my eyes open, because the second I closed them, flashes of those events twisted the reality into something else. My mantra wasn't working as efficiently here as I hoped, but seeing his face made it little better.

Kallias changed the angle, tugging me closer by the waist, adjusting his position, his body now flush against mine. That was when the things started to change. Temperature in the room again dropped so slightly and shiver ran down my spine. His other hand, now cold like ice, moved to my neck, his touch still light and tender, yet the pain marked the trace of his fingers, until they slipped into my hair. His lips grazed over my jaw and down the column of my neck to my shoulder, leaving small kisses on his way, every one of them followed by explosions of sharp pain. When he reached the collarbone, the pain was so insufferable that I cried out.

Kallias immediately stopped, his eyes shooting up to my face.

"Wha-"

When he noticed red and purple marks on my skin, his eyes widened in shock and he released me, backing away.

"That's nothing," I covered the worst of them with bathrobe, quickly wiping tears away.

"Nothing?" he whispered "How..? Why..? You are covered in frostbites." Kallias was short for words. He looked down at his hands in disbelieve. "Have I done that?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Only moments ago, he was so kind and attentive, even though he didn't want to do this. Another male in his position wouldn't give a shit. I couldn't possibly tell him that his powers were responsible for that, nor I couldn't lie to him.

Shaking his head, he was retreating, his skin paler than freshly fallen snow. He ran hand through his hair and then dragged it down his face. He was shaken.

"I-.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.. I'm so sorry."

He pivoted and hurried to the tall mirror in the corner of the room. It took just a light touch from him and the glass melted away, opening an entrance to a narrow corridor covered in ice and snow. Gust of cold wind brought several snowflakes into the room and I had to turn away, protecting my face. Prince of Winter rushed down that corridor, unaffected by cold. He didn't look back even when I called after him, eager to somehow explain the situation. Before I reached the mirror, glass was back on its place and Kallias was gone.

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