#The rest of my life demands my attention though

[itsnathateasy]

hiiiii!! i really love your blog and i was wondering if i could request aot characters being jealous?? 🫶🫶

Hiiii anon! 🫶 This was such a fun request to write, thank you for sharing it with me! Hope you enjoy this!🪷

aot characters being jealous 🤨

warnings: eren kinda needs to be slapped, alcohol consumption in mikasa’s word count: 4,1k includes: eren, armin, mikasa, connie, jean, reiner, bertholdt, hange, erwin a/n: idk why i decided to call bertholdt bertie, idk if i’ve done that before but in my head, that’s his name (apart from birth control, burrito, boruto, boomshakalaka and the lot)

You don’t need me to tell you that Eren will pick up a fight if he gets the slightest clue that he doesn’t have your undivided attention. You smiled at the waiter? What for? Was he to your liking? Why are you on the phone again? I’m here with you, no need to speak with anyone else. He’s too possessive and even though that’s a trait you liked at first, it was steadily choking you. It’s not that he wouldn’t allow you to do things like go out or be on the phone with people he didn’t know personally, but he’d made it his life mission to get to know all of your friends or to always check on you when you weren’t together. He did demand that you sent him pictures and videos of where you were or who you were with though. The final straw was when you caught him going through your phone. You’d spent the night together and you’d just woken up. But it felt too early. Your body was still stiff from not getting the rest you needed and your eyelids felt heavy. You lazily turned over and reached for his warm body, draping your arm around his waist. “You up, y/n?” You responded with a mumble that could mean anything, slowly drifting into sleep again. You were woken by the buzzing of a phone along with a constant turn on and off of a white light. You opened your eyes and realised it was just Eren on your phone… Going through YOUR messages! “Eren what the fuck?” You snapped awake and yelled as best as you could, your voice raspy with sleep. “No worries, y/n, you’re clean.” He said matter-of-factly, still checking some more messages. “What the hell? Of course I’m clean! Why would you do that?” You screamed and snatched your phone from his hands, practically stepping all over him in order to reach the device. “Just had to make sure, y/n!” “When you want to make sure you ask me, you don’t go through my private stuff!”

Armin is so the type to be silently jealous. He notices that you’re smiling while on your phone or that maybe you were extra careful about your hair and make up but he doesn’t voice his concern. He’ll simply compliment you on your looks and on the outfit you picked. He’ll even go as far as to wish you a good time. The entire time when you’re gone, he’ll check your socials, see if you’ve posted anything or if any of your mutual friends has posted you on their stories. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t text you any more than what he normally would. What if he made you suspicious of his behaviour? Then he wouldn’t be able to find anything out! When you’re finally home – much later than usual – he pretends to still be working on his laptop. Unfazed, he asks you about your night out, did you have fun? Where did you go? Did you like that place? The little shit will even ask you to cuddle him while you tell him all about your night. “You know what, I can’t keep it a secret any longer, Armin. I’m sorry you weren’t invited, but me and the girls were helping Ymir propose to Historia, she even hired a photographer and the lot! She’ll tell you all about it soon, I’m sure they’re busy having fun right now!” Armin looked back at you, startled. It all checked out! If Ymir had hired professionals for the proposal, then it’d make sense that you were too meticulous about your appearance or why you never posted anything about tonight. “Wow, y/n… I feel so stupid now… I literally thought you’d gone on a date, I was losing my mind over here!” He pulled you closer with his arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head. “First of all, why would I ever cheat on you?” You pulled away from the soft lock he held you in and removed his laptop from his legs to set it on the living room table in front of you. “And secondly, if I was to cheat, do you really think you’d be able to tell this easily?” You smirked at him and noticed the colour draining from his face. “Y/n, don’t say that, it’s not funny. How’d you do it then?” He requested to which you only laughed. “You’ll spoil the fun if you know beforehand! Let’s just say I’d be way more smart than getting ready for my lover in front of you!” “Y/n you don’t mean that! Say you don’t mean that!” He said, his voice annoyed but also not too confident. Were you being honest? He had to know!

You didn’t know Mikasa could get jealous, but you found out about it that one time you got monumentally drunk. Hanging out for a beer was normal for your friend group, even though it wasn’t always possible for all of you to actually gather. When you did, it was the best night out! Normally, you’d let Mikasa catch up with Eren and Armin while you focused on the people you didn’t get to see quite as often. It was a short break for you and Mikasa, a deal you’d both agreed to keep when you were with your mutual friends. You were catching up with Connie and Historia and lost yourself in your conversations, your laughters. You didn��t know what number beer you’d just chugged, but you three were ordering another round, cackling at one of Connie’s hilarious jokes as you raised your hand towards the waiter. You noticed Mikasa eyeing you from the table she occupied with Eren. She gave you a crooked smile and a thumbs up, but she seemed a bit weird. You completely forgot about the look on her face the moment your pints landed in front of you on the table. “Cheers to us!” Yelled Connie as he raised his pint in the air, clinking it with your and Historia’s. You were so giddy with the beer, your jokes and the laughs you were sharing that you felt like hugging them. Sliding your arms around their shoulders, you pulled them both closer to you, your heads banging in the process. “I really love you guys! We should do this more often!” Connie and Historia intertwined their arms as well, forming an odd three-way hug. “We really should, y/n! Mikasa! Come, join our group hug!” Historia exclaimed breaking contact with you as Mikasa slid in the narrow space between the two of you. “It’s time to go, y/n.” She said, not joining in the hug and reaching for the place where yours and Connie’s arm were touching to pull them apart. “Mikasa NO! Let’s stay, we’re having so much fun!” You offered her a sip from your beer but she only glared at you with red eyes. “Y/n. It’s late. You’re drunk. We’re going home!” She demanded. She stood up before you could say anything and helped you on your feet as well, moving a bit further from the table you were previously sat at. “I don’t wanna leave just yet, Mikasa! Why can’t we stay?” You felt yourself slurring the words. Maybe Mikasa was right. How many beers did you have anyway? “Y/n, you’re drunk and when that happens you start… Hugging people...” She fixed your hair as she asked Historia about your jacket and bag. “What’s wrong with hugging my friends, Mikasa? Just because you and Eren and Armin never hug, doesn’t mean I’m not gonna hug you know?” You protested as she helped you put on your jacket and awkwardly hang your bag on your shoulder. “Nothing wrong with hugging, y/n. But after that, you start making out with people and I’m not particularly fond of that.” You stood still as you realised what she was saying. “That’s unfair, Mikasa! That hasn’t happened since the night we got together!” “That’s my point, y/n! You made out with me because you were drunk! You said so yourself! You were too scared to ask me out!” She was being serious, that much you could tell. You smirked at her and she raised an eyebrow. “So, Mikasa… Is this your way to say you wanna make out or something?”

Connie doesn’t get jealous, not how you’d expect one to get jealous at least. He’s too cocky for this type of behaviour. Even if he had ‘signs’ that you might be unfaithful, he’d play along with you. Questions like “How’s that new man of yours been doing?” were a common occurrence whenever he thought he had clues pointing to that. You were fed up with his stupidity. Joking about it once was funny, but having him try to persuade you that you were having a secret affair was too much. It was getting rather annoying, so you confronted him about it, asking him if he really believed you weren’t loyal to him. Of course, Connie just laughs at this, which annoys you tenfold. “Why would you even cheat on me? I’m giving you everything you ask for!” Cocky. “That’s exactly my point, Connie! I’m not cheating on you, I’ve no reason to! Why do you go on with this stupid game of yours? Are you cheating and trying to pin it on me instead? This is too much of a mindfuck for me to fathom!” Connie’s eyes grew wider at your confession, he noticed how you were being serious about this, how you were actually upset. “Hey, hey… I just thought it was funny, you know? Just messing with you a bit… I never meant for it to get this far, I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner…” He pulled you closer and gave you a hug, then a soft peck on your temple. “Where did you even get the idea? What did I do?” You inquired, eager to properly sort this out. “Ah, I don’t know… You’re always laughing on the phone. But like too much… I usually brush it off, it might be some of your friends. But then you started getting annoyed at me whenever I commented on that, so I kept pushing.” You sighed, not yet leaving his arms as he rested his head on top of yours. “Well Connie, had the allegations been true, I’d be cheating on you with funny cat videos on TikTok.” You admitted and laughed with how silly you’d both been about this misunderstanding. “Wait, y/n, that’s actually quite the rival! You’re not allowed to watch any more cat videos from now on!” He joked and poked your cheek. “Unless we watch them together, of course!”

Jean gets jealous alright. The thing is, he’s having such a hard time admitting it. You’ve been spending extra time with some childhood friends of yours that were back in town for the weekend, so you told Jean you wouldn’t be much around. After all, you didn’t get to see those people often. What with living in different cities, working and the lot, it was difficult. Jean was understanding, of course, Jean is nothing if not understanding and loving towards you. But it was eating him from the inside out. It wasn’t even noon yet and you’d been with your friends for around 3 hours by now. No texts, no calls. Yet, you were extremely active on social media. And one of your friends looked really cute. The kind of cute you’d go for. After some digging – yes, he even checked your facebook page back from 2012 – he found out that you two had actually dated… For an entire year?? Why wouldn’t you mention that one of the people you were to meet was an ex? Sure, he’d mind it anyway, but he’d rather know in advance than have to find out about it himself! “Hey please call me when you see this y/n!” He texted. A few minutes passed and you hadn’t even read the text. “It’s urgent, please call me!!!” Still no response. After a series of emojis aiming to get your attention, you finally check your phone and let him know that you’d call him in a couple of minutes. As patient as he could be - he couldn’t. His foot was tapping like crazy, the nail of his thumb displayed visible damage from his insistent biting and nibbling. The phone rang and Jean had never in his life picked up as fast as now. “Hey Jean! What’s wrong? Everything alright?” You asked, still not quite sure what this was about. “Why didn’t you tell me you and that guy were dating when you were younger?” Your laughter was the only answer he’d get for a few seconds. “I’m serious, y/n! You should’ve told me!” “Jean, okay, how did you even find out about this?” “That’s what’s troubling you, y/n? I checked your facebook! I had to know who I’ up against!” “Jean, you’re being dramatic. Tell me, mr detective guy, why would I tell you about a guy I was dating when I was 15? That doesn’t even count as a relationship!” Jean didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t realised he’d scrolled that far back or that it might have been a minor thing. Realising he had no reason to be jealous, he apologised for the hundreds of emojis he’d sent you earlier. “No need to apologise, Jean! It’s fine, really! Just… Check the dates when you do your digging, okay?” “Hope I won’t need to again, y/n. Have fun with your friends!”

Reiner is the type of jealous person that kinda loses it and panics. He’s not even sure why he’s acting like this. You’ve reassured him close to a million times, yet he can’t shake the thought out of his head. The audacity of that person to comment an aubergine emoji on your recent post was simply the cherry on top of his list of insecurities. “Reiner! Snap out of it!” You had to actually snap your fingers and wave your palm in front of his face to pull him out of his trance. “Sorry, sorry, y/n, I just… That was so… I don’t know, it still bugs me...” Sighing, you leaned over him, placing your head on his shoulder. “I deleted the comment and blocked them. You can check my phone if it makes you feel any better. But anyway, that person had no reason to do that. I haven’t seen or spoken to them in years!” You quickly pecked his cheek, eager that the episode was over, but alas. “Apparently, it’s a lot different in their head, y/n! And that emoji very well indicates what kind of thoughts they were having...” He yelled at you, taking you by surprise. Sure, he wasn’t the most confident person, but this was unusual of him. You pulled up the chair and sat next to him, your arm on his lower back. “Hey… No need to worry, I promise you. It’s nothing serious and it means nothing on my end, Reiner. Do you understand?” He avoided your gaze and instead took interest in pinching the inside of his thumb. Placing your hand on top of his, you ceased his terrible habit. Defeat, he sighed. “Consciously, I know I shouldn’t be jealous, y/n. But then my thoughts start racing… What gave them the audacity to comment that? Have they been thinking about you often? H- Have they… Touched themselves to the thought of you? That makes me physically sick, I can’t stand it… And you can’t tell me people aren’t perverted like that, because you know they are… And then I can’t stop these thoughts from coming back to me.” You caressed his back, taking in his confession and understanding the depth of all he’d just admitted to you. “I can’t make the thoughts stop, but I’m here to remind you that this person is blocked. And every person who acts like this on my accounts is, also, automatically blocked. I don’t want that kind of attention from anyone else but you, okay?” He gave you a loving look as the words sank in. Moving his hand to your face to touch your chin, he softly pulled you towards him to kiss you. “From now on, that’s my mantra, y/n.”

Bertholdt is the one to mention you’ve been getting unwanted attention because, honestly, you hadn’t even noticed it! He doesn’t understand the concept of jealousy. Working as an events coordinator included having to talk to a variety of people for a bunch of things. It was a stressful job, but the fact that Bertholdt worked beside you made everything manageable. Today’s event was hectic: A live radio production covering a charity marathon. The streets were packed with people, everyone was loud and moving up and down like crazy. It must’ve been a solid hour before you last caught glimpse of your Bertie and that wasn’t usually a problem. But today, your biggest sponsor kept bugging you about everything. He wouldn’t let you breathe and actually followed you around as you were checking with your colleagues that everything was set to go. After trying to avoid him for the millionth time, your eyes finally landed on Bertie as he was giving the final instructions to one of the producers. “Let’s go talk to Bertholdt about your issue!” You grabbed the sponsor’s arm and literally dragged him towards Bertholdt. “There you are! Been looking all over for you two!” Exclaimed Bertie as he noticed you and the sponsor walking to him. “Mr Hoover, we were just wandering about this minor detail, would you mind going over it with us once more?” You asked, trying your best to give him an eye signal about the sponsor. You weren’t sure if he got it, but a few seconds later he walked with him to one of the promo booths and introduced him to someone. You saw them shaking hands, then Bertie came back to you. “Has he been bothering you long, y/n?” He asked kissing your temple. “Yes… He’s been insufferable… How did you know?” Bertie chuckled and leaned to reach your ear. “He’s been talking my ear off about you for days… Said he wants to ask you out by the end of the event!” That made the both of you laugh and hold your tummies. “You’re not serious Bertie, are you? We’re literally called ‘Hoover and y/l/n! Hasn’t he seen our wedding rings?” In-between laughter Bertie spoke. “No clue! But I couldn’t spill the beans! Not after he told me all about you, how sweet and pretty you are! I couldn’t bear to be so cruel!” Attempting to contain your giggling – with little success – you’re brought back to reality by the suddenly serious expression on Bertie’s face. “Shut up, y/n! Here he comes!” “We’re in for a treat… Shouldn’t we wait until the event is over?” The more you spoke, the closer the sponsor got to where you and Bertie stood. “Damn, y/n! And I thought I was being unethical for not letting him know about us, but you’re the real deal!”

Hange doesn’t get jealous, but because they don’t really see the signs? They’re so confident about you, they just know you wouldn’t do that. You’d been trying your hardest to make them jealous, as a game of course, but they never really got the cue! You and Historia had even set up a fake profile of a person texting you constantly, your final attempt to see how Hange would react. Your phone lit up with another two texts and a voice message from your admirer. Enough was enough so you decided to be vocal about the incident. “Ugh, I just can’t believe this person… I just don’t understand why they won’t stop texting me… They’re really bothering me, Hange!” At that, Hange’s face was instantly turned towards you from where they were brewing their coffee on the kitchen counter. “Who are we talking about, y/n? You’ve never mentioned them before, are they a friend of youurs?” “We used to date but they keep hitting me up every now and then… I guess they’re not over me yet...” Letting the spoon they were holding hit the counter, they turned fully and walked towards you. “Okay, y/n, this sounds serious. What do you need me to do? Track them down? Call the police? Go find them myself? How serious is this ‘annoying’ y/n? Let me see!” Before you could respond, they took your phone away from you and began scrolling up on your and ‘your admirer’s’ chat. “Y/n, why would you send them the droplets emoji? Isn’t that exclusive for our chats?” “That’s your only problem, Hange?” You requested, utterly disappointed that not even a fake profile sending you thirsty messages was enough to get them going. “Ugh, it’s not even real, Hange, don’t worry… It’s just this profile me and Historia created. I wanted to see if you’d get jealous, but, apparently, I’m incapable of it!” You exclaimed in defeat, face buried in your hands as Hange laughed it out. “Okay, okay, y/n, but let me get this straight… How did you expect me to get jealous over text messages that I didn’t even know existed – even if they were real - and secondly, why would I be jealous about you shifting your attention from me when you’re, quite literally, all over me all the time?” “Why are you the one complaining, Hange? Shouldn’t I be all over you?” “You very well should, but how can I be jealous of potential opponents when you always show me you love me?” You both fell silent for a few seconds, you at loss for words and Hange expecting a response. “I hate how you won’t fall for any prank, Hange!”

Erwin swears he doesn’t get jealous because “it’s not the right thing to do” and “he trusts you too much” anyway. But whenever someone looks at you a little more than usual, it’s game over. For them! You were having Sunday brunch at your usual spot. Enjoying your breakfast with Erwin was usually the highlight of your week, except for when he was in the mood to fight the waiters because “they were staring too long” or complimented you. “He wasn’t, Erwin. And besides, that was literally just Peter. We’ve been coming here almost every Sunday morning for two years. We know Peter and he knows we’re together! Or not to pick a fight with you...” You mumbled the last part, hoping it wasn’t audible, but Erwin’s eyes widening was proof of the opposite. “What was that, y/n? Why would he need to pick a fight with me?” You scoffed, determined to not let this outburst of his to last more than it should. It was your day together after all! “Peter has served us a million times, Erwin. You’re always equally nice to him, except for when he gives me a compliment!” “He has no reason to be giving you compliments, y/n. That’s for me to do.” He explained sternly, cutting one more bite out of his pancake. “He also complimented you, but of course, that doesn’t matter, does it...” You sighed, setting your cutlery down. “I don’t wanna fight about this again, Erwin. You’ve no reason to be jealous. It was just a compliment from a guy that means nothing to me.” Setting his own cutlery down, he reached for your hand and held it. “I just don’t like it when people look at you… Like that… Can’t blame them, you’re wonderful! But I’d rather they kept their thoughts to themselves… I don’t want to fight either, y/n. Are we good?” “We’re good! But you know that other people can like… Perceive me and stuff?” He chuckled at your words, satisfied that your little argument never escalated to anything more than that. “I know. Sadly, I can’t keep you all to myself.” He gave you a sweet smile and went back to cutting his pancake, offering you his bite. “Well, no need to worry about other people’s failed attempts to flirt with me. I’m ‘for your eyes only’, as the poets have said.” You smirked as you took the bite he offered you. “Y/n, I swear to god, if you keep on quoting One Direction, we’ll have to re-evaluate our relationship.” He said in his strict voice. “Aw, but you’re such a fast learner! So quick to pick up on my reference!” You giggled at his face, trying so hard to keep on playing strict but holding back his laughter to the best of his ability. “You’ll be the death of me, y/n.”

[leconcombrerit]

How's the wooden house coming along? Can imagine it's taking a while due to all the small detailed bits.

I just ran out of glue and therefore finally picked up my phone. I swear I get way too focused when I start these things, if I could forget to breathe I would.

But it's going smoothly for now! Which means that I haven't yet reached the point where all the micro mistakes will catch up to me and have me looking for a way to make it work anyway. I also discarded some posters that I noticed had Harry Potter written on them, we do not stan terf works in this household.

Here are a few pictures of the ground floor!

It's still so very tiny if only I had some more glue-

[ellecdc]

poly!moonwater x potter!reader who has so many nicknames (trouble, ickle potter, little lion, treasure, amour, dove, etc.) that her boys are the only ones who remember her actual first name. please and thank you.

hehehehehhehehehehehehe

poly!moonwater x Potter!reader who is called anything but her name [1.2k words]

CW: siblings, swearing, background prongsfoot, Peter fearing for his life

….and tell your brother to try to avoid any more detentions between now and Christmas, okay? Love and miss you, my little lion.

“Jamie!” You called as you made it into The Three Broomsticks, shaking the chill off of your jacket as you folded the letter back up.

“What?”

“Mum says to fuck off with the detentions for the rest of the year.” You responded as you took a seat, reaching over Sirius to grab a chip from his and James’ plate only for James to snatch it out from under you.

“I have a hard time believing that the lovely Euphemia Potter said her beloved son should fuck off with the detentions, Trouble.” Sirius chided as he shook his head at you, though he moved the plate back within your reach and allowed you to help yourself.

“Honest to Merlin, hand to my heart.” You responded solemnly as you handed him the letter, watching as he furrowed his brows and held it out in front of him as if it were a royal decree.

“Well would you look at that,” Sirius murmured, “she really did tell ya to fuck off, babe.” 

James made a tsking sound as he snatched the letter out of his boyfriend’s hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Message received, bug.” 

“What did the little ickle Potter do now?” Peter asked as he plopped himself down in the booth beside James, ruffling his friends hair causing James to aggressively swat his hands away. “I only ever see James this worked up when his sister’s around.” 

“The fuck did you just call her?” You heard Barty demand from the other end of the pub, kneeling on the booth and peering over the other Slytherin’s to level Peter with a severe glare. “That witch is a Treasure, Pettigrew, and you will address her as such.” 

“Merlin’s beard…” Peter muttered as James snorted at his expense. “Okay…okay, sorry Junior.”

“You will be.” Barty spat menacingly before he slowly lowered himself back into his seat. 

“Oh don’t mind him, Pete.” You offered jovially. “He’s harmless.”

Your sentiment was severely undermined by Evan and Barty who had their heads lowered together as they kept their predatory gazes locked on the - now pale in the face - Gryffindor boy, though. 

“It’s hard to know what to call you sometimes.” Peter offered with a nervous shiver as he pulled his attention away from the otherside of the pub. “You’ve got so many.” 

“So many, what?” Lily asked as she took a seat at your table. 

“Names.” James said around a mouthful of chips. “She was called about four just now.” 

“Ickle Potter.” Peter whispered as he eyed Barty carefully.

“Trouble.” Sirius offered.

“lovebug.” James carried on.

“And Treasure, according to Junior.” Peter continued.

Lily hummed thoughtfully. “Four nicknames, that’s not bad.”

“Your mum called you her little lion in her letter.” Sirius added.

“There you are, amour.” Regulus sounded from behind you as he and Remus entered the pub; the three of you having split up to run to the post whilst Remus joined Regulus to Pippin’s Potions for a few supplies. 

“Amour.” Lily, James, and Sirius all chorused as Peter chuckled, causing Remus and Regulus to slow their strides and their brows to pinch in bemusement.

“What’s going on?” Remus chuckled somewhat nervously as he pressed a kiss to your hair before taking a seat beside you.

“We were just talking about your girlfriend’s names.” Lily explained.

“Names?” Remus laughed as he turned back to you. “How many do you have?” 

“Apparently a lot.” 

“Why? What’s wrong with ‘Y/N’?” He asked, and the entire table fell quiet.

“Why would you call me that?” You asked as steadily as you could manage. Remus’ brows pinched again before he turned to look at the table worriedly. 

“Remus.” You begged. “Why would you call me that?”

“What? Call you what? Your name?”

“That’s so rude, Rem.” You whined, your pout almost turning into a snicker when you heard Regulus breathe out a chuckle from behind you when he caught on, though you managed to hold strong. 

“I…I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong. What- why can’t I call you by your name?”

You let out what sounded like a breathy sob as you turned towards Regulus and pushed your face into his chest. “He’s so mean to me, Reg.”

Regulus made a sympathetic sound as he circled his arms around you. “My poor girl.” 

“That was cold, Remus. Stone cold.” Sirius stated solemnly. “If James were a better brother, he’d beat you up for this.”

“I’m a perfectly fine brother, thank you.” James protested immediately. 

“I don’t see you fighting to defend Trouble’s honour.” Sirius argued. 

Remus looked between his two oldest friends for but a moment longer before he turned to see your shoulders shaking as you hid in Regulus’ chest.

“Dovey.” Remus cooed, moving to reach out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder only for you to jump up and turn to expose a beaming smile on your face. “What the hell was that about?”

“How many is that?” You asked no one in particular, though Peter, Lily, James, and Sirius all chorused “seven”. 

“For Godric’s sake; was this all over a silly nickname?” Remus asked in faux admonishment as he turned to level you with a look that did not translate when he was smiling at you like the lovesick fool he was. 

“It’s not a silly nickname.” You denied immediately, eyes soft and smile softer as you leaned further into him. “I love it.”

“You really had him there for a moment, amour. I think he actually thought you were sobbing into my shirt over something he’d done.” Regulus offered, shooting Remus a wink when he tried to scowl at his boyfriend. 

“It’s not easy to trick Moony so it’s always extra fun to see him sweat.” James agreed.

“You should spend more time with us, Trouble; see what other pranks you can help us out with.” 

“Sorry lads.” Remus said as he rested his arm over the back of your chair and trailed his thumb over your neck where the fabric of your jumper gave way to skin. “This dove is our Trouble.”

“And Treasure.” Regulus added as he knocked his ankle into yours under the table. 

“My little lion.” Remus whispered into your cheek, causing you to curl into yourself at the tickles from his breath. 

“My lovebug.” Regulus chuckled.

“Should we go on?” 

“No, no. Merlin’s saggy balls, we get it.” James groaned as he rubbed his eyes harshly under his glasses. “You guys are disgusting.” 

“No more disgusting than you and Pads all wound up after a win.” Remus retorted, causing Peter to nearly spit out his butterbeer. 

“Alright, alright.” You relented. “I think there are a few too many siblings here to be talking about this right now.”

“Agreed.” Regulus and Sirius chorused before glaring at each other. 

Remus simply chuckled and pressed another kiss into your hair. “Sorry dove.”

“You’re forgiven, Moons.”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　SLEEPLESS NIGHT

spencer reid x reader

SUMMARY: Where Spencer finally has a night to sleep at his apartment with his girlfriend, but the current case doesn't even let him close his eyes, leading him to study the files until ungodly hours. But who said that Y/N can sleep away from him?

WARNING: Slightly mention of age gap (reader is still in college), tooth rotting fluff.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Spencer hated bringing work home, and he had two very specific reasons for it. First, he loathed the idea of mixing his work life with his personal life. The BAU was a constant source of darkness; gruesome crimes, twisted minds, and the unrelenting pressure to solve the unsolvable.

His home was the opposite: a place of light and warmth, a refuge from the horrors that haunted him on a daily basis. But more importantly, home was where Y/N was. She was the one person who could pull him from the depths of his thoughts, her mere presence offering a calm that he couldn't find anywhere else. She was his life, his anchor, and his sanctuary.

Their time together was sacred, especially with the demands of his job taking him away so often. Whether he was chasing unsubs across the country or spending endless hours poring over case files at the BAU, being away from Y/N was the hardest part of his job. When he was home, he wanted to be fully present, to make up for the time he lost while he was away.

He cherished the quiet moments, the lazy evenings where they could simply exist together without the weight of the world bearing down on him. He wanted to give her every ounce of his attention, to make her feel just how much she meant to him.

But then, there were nights like tonight, when the case followed him home despite his best intentions, forcing him to divide his focus in a way that always left him feeling guilty.

The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, filtered through the sheer curtains that hung over the windows. The clock on the nightstand read 2:37 AM, its gentle green glow a quiet reminder of how late it had become.

Spencer lay on his back, his eyes trained on the ceiling, though his mind was far from still. It raced, chasing the loose ends of the case, replaying details, searching for the missing link that could unravel everything. The unsub was smart, meticulous in his planning, calculating in his movements. It was unnerving, the way this case was so close to home, right here in Quantico.

Hotch had granted the team a rare night to return home and rest, knowing the work would pick up again with relentless intensity in the morning. Spencer knew he should be grateful for the chance to sleep in his own bed, to hold Y/N close, and let her warmth lull him into rest. But sleep felt impossible.

Beside him, Y/N slept soundly, her body curled against his. One arm rested across his chest, her hand fisting tightly the fabric of his white shirt and her hand tucked beneath his shoulder, as if even in sleep, she sought him out. Her breathing was soft and even, the slow rise and fall of her chest a soothing rhythm against his side.

Spencer turned his head slightly, watching her. She looked peaceful, her face relaxed in sleep, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on her lips, probably remains of a dream. His heart clenched with love, a wave of warmth and tenderness washing over him.

With a soft sigh, Spencer slid his right arm beneath her, his hand resting gently on her back, the warmth of her skin seeping through the fabric of the sweater she wore - his sweater. He brought his other hand down to her bare leg, carefully shifting her until her right one draped across his thighs, her body instinctively curling closer to him, almost laying fully above him.

His fingers trailed softly along her thigh, the smooth skin warm beneath his touch. The gesture was soothing, grounding him in the present moment, in the feel of her against him. His thumb stroked lazy circles on her flesh, his touch light and reverent, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of her - as if he already didn't had each part of her craved inside his head.

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment as he breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of her hair. It was a mixture of her shampoo and something uniquely hers, a scent that had always brought him comfort. His lips brushed against the delicate skin of her closed eyelids, another kiss pressed to her temple. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her hand tightening its grip on his shirt.

His right hand traveled across the fabric of his sweater, slipping below it, his fingertips sliding higher, brushing against the bare skin of her back. She was so warm, her skin so soft, and the feel of her made something inside him settle, if only for a moment. He continued to stroke her thigh with one hand, his other one gently massaging the muscles of her back, feeling the way her body relaxed further into him.

He stared at her for a long moment, his mind flickering between her and work. He didn’t want to leave her alone in bed, didn’t want to let it drag him away from her. Spencer knew Y/N deserved a good night's sleep more than anyone. She had been tirelessly studying for her college finals, always the most academically involved and dedicated in her class, which caused her to staying up late, buried in textbooks and research papers - just as he spent sleepless nights away on cases.

But even as he held her close, the details of the case gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, refusing to be ignored.

With a reluctant sigh, he carefully began to shift, his movements slow and deliberate, not wanting to disturb her. His hand on her thigh slid away, and he gently eased her leg off his hips, tucking it back beneath the blankets. She mumbled softly in her sleep, her body instinctively moving toward his warmth even as he slipped out from under her.

Spencer sat up, pausing for a moment as he watched her stir. Her hand reached for him in her sleep, her face burrowing further into his pillow as if searching for his scent. The sight made his chest tighten with both affection and guilty.

With one last glance at Y/N, Spencer stood, moving with the quiet precision of someone who was used to slipping away in the dead of night. He padded silently out of the bedroom, the soft sound of his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet beneath his feet.

The apartment was shrouded in a heavy, comfortable darkness, the only sound breaking the quiet being the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Spencer moved with practiced silence, stepping lightly through the familiar space until he reached the small room they’d turned into a makeshift office. It was cluttered with his books, scattered papers, and, more recently, case files.

He flicked on the desk lamp, casting a soft, amber glow across the cluttered desk. His movements were slow, careful not to disturb the serene quiet that enveloped the apartment as he sank into his chair, rescuing his folded glasses from between all those papers.

In front of him lay the case file, the photographs of the victims staring back at him as if mocking his inability to piece it all together. He scanned the reports for what felt like the hundredth time, his brow creased in thought, eyes darting over the details.

Minutes bled into an hour, maybe more. His glasses had slipped halfway down his nose as he leaned in closer to the desk, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the crime scene photos. His other hand tugged at the cuff of his pajama sleeve, lost in the rhythm of his restless thoughts.

Just then, the sound of soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor reached his ears, the faint shuffling of bare feet snapping him out of his thoughts. He barely turned in his chair before he saw her; a sleepy, disheveled Y/N standing in the doorway, her figure backlit by the faint glow of the hallway light. The sleeves of his sweater were falling over her hands, causing her shoulders to become exposed, and her eyes were heavy with the remnants of sleep.

"Spence..." She mumbled, her voice raspy and thick with drowsiness. The sight of her tugged at his heart in the most tender way.

Spencer’s face softened instantly, guilt creeping in at the edges of his thoughts. He’d woken her.

"Hey, sweetheart." He murmured, pushing the file aside and giving her his full attention. His voice was quiet, filled with concern. "What are you doing awake? You should be asleep."

Y/N blinked at him, the bleariness in her eyes making her seem even smaller and more vulnerable. She swayed slightly on her feet, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"I woke up... and you weren’t there." She slurred softly, taking a small step toward him, her expression confused and sleepy.

His heart clenched at her words, a wave of guilt washing over him. He hated that he’d caused her to wake up, especially on a week that she spent too much time studying and having little to no rest. He adjusted his posture above the chair, motioning her closer with gentle hands, but Y/N was already moving on her own, shuffling across the room with slow, sleepy steps, her gaze never leaving him.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, dove." He whispered as she reached him. He reached out with his hands as she practically fell into his arms.

She pushed his arms open with little effort and maneuvered herself onto his lap, pressing against him as if seeking out the warmth she’d missed. Her legs straddled his thighs, her knees resting above the sides of the chair, her body curling around his like a koala hugging a tree. The weight of her felt perfect, grounding him as she nestled closer, her chest rising and falling softly against him.

"Spence, don’t apologize." She murmured, her breath tickling the skin of his neck as she shifted, her nose nuzzling into the curve of it, seeking his scent. She pressed her face against him, her lips brushing feather-light against the sensitive skin just below his ear as she planted a sleepy kiss. "You know I just can’t sleep well without you."

Spencer let out a shaky breath, the soft, familiar feeling of her lips against his neck sending warmth coursing through him. His left hand instinctively found her back, his fingers running to the hem of his sweater and lifting it slightly, making room for hand to enter under the fabric and meet her skin, spreading his fingers as he began tracing lazy circles along her spine, soothing her.

Y/N sighed in pleasure, her left hand gently crawling up to his face. Her fingers softly traced the rough stubble along his cheek before instinctively pushing his glasses back up to their proper place, her fingertips grazing the bridge of his nose in a familiar, soothing motion.

He smiled softly, his guilt still lingering but melting slightly under the comfort of her touch. She was so close, so vulnerable in her half-asleep state, and it made him feel even more protective of her.

"You should be in bed." He whispered, his voice low and affectionate, his hand continuing its gentle caress. "You have finals tomorrow... and this position’s going to make your back hurt in the morning." He tried to sound stern, but the amusement in his tone betrayed him. He couldn’t help but laugh quietly as Y/N shifted again, her hand leaving his face and meeting the other side of his neck, her right arm tightening around his torso in silent protest.

"I don’t care." She mumbled into his neck, her lips brushing against his skin as she spoke. "I love you. I want to be here."

His heart swelled at her words, an overwhelming wave of love flooding him. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the comforting scent of her.

"I love you more." He whispered back, his voice barely audible as he nuzzled his cheek against her hair. His hand never stopped its rhythmic movement along her back, his touch gentle and tender.

Y/N hummed in response, her breathing already slowing as the warmth of his embrace lulled her back toward sleep. Spencer could feel the way her body relaxed against his, her weight becoming heavier as she melted further into him. She was so peaceful, her soft breaths brushing against his skin in a steady rhythm.

Spencer's eyes drifted to the case file still resting on the desk, his mind unwilling to let go of the details he was trying to piece together. His hand continued to trail soothing patterns on her back, and he tilted his head down, pressing another kiss to her temple, noticing how her body was giving way to sleep again.

"Let me tuck you back into bed, sweetheart." He whispered against her skin, insisting. "You need the proper rest."

But Y/N shifted in his lap, shaking her head, clearly unwilling to move.

"No." She mumbled, her voice soft but convincing. "What I need is to be with you." She burrowed her face deeper into his neck, pressing her nose against his skin and nuzzling him like she was trying to become a part of him. "Let me stay here. Please."

Spencer sighed softly, feeling torn between the the case and the warmth of Y/N in his arms. He glanced back at Y/N, her soft breathing and her peaceful face pressed against his neck, shaking his head with how stubborn she could be.

Wrapping his arms fully around her, he held her close, one hand still caressing her back while the other pulled the case file closer to him again, reopening it and going back to the first page.

[gothcsz]

ugh I want to be sat on javi's desk whilst he tells me to spread my legs so he can see how wet I am for him 😩😩😩

tags: f!reader, lil bit of dirty talk, terms of endearment (amor, baby), established relationship, husband!javi, no use of y/n, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), oral (f), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 3k w/c - gif cred

a/n: two very similar prompts that i have merged together and hope lives up to what you guys were asking for 🖤 thank you @almostempty for finding the gif for me because that's all i was thinking about when i started writing this. also dedicating this to @yxtkiwiyxt because i know you love husband javi 🖤

The soft click of the door shutting behind you barely registers as you slip into his home office. Your eyelids are heavy, the remnants of sleep still tugging at your senses as you blink them away. The clock on the wall reads 3:00 a.m. sharp.

The gentle glow of his desk lamp casts a golden hue over his chiseled profile. It’s a scene you’ve walked into countless times—Javier immersed in his work, utterly focused, documents spread haphazardly across the desk.

“Amor,” his voice scrapes through the quiet, rough and low from hours of silence. He leans back in his chair, the leather groaning softly beneath him, and his arms open, beckoning you close. His dark eyes soften when they meet yours. “What are you doing up?”

You step toward him without hesitation, as though pulled by a force you can’t resist. Sliding onto his lap sideways, you settle yourself against his comforting frame, resting your head in the warm crook of his neck.

The familiar scent of him—a mix of his cologne and the faint, earthy tang of coffee—wraps around you like a blanket. 

“I can’t sleep without you, Javi,” you murmur, pouting slightly as your fingers idly trace patterns on the fabric of his shirt. “You know that.”

His large hand trails up and down your spine in slow, soothing strokes. He presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head, and his sigh feels as heavy as the workload surrounding him. “I know baby,” he murmurs. “I just have a lot to get through before my meeting in the morning.”

You groan in frustration, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. Your lower lip juts out in a way you know he finds irresistible, but it’s not just an act. “Sometimes it feels like you prioritize this,” you say, gesturing toward the chaotic sprawl of documents on his desk, “over me.”

His mustache twitches with a frown, the corners of his mouth tugging downward. “Don’t say that,” the sincerity in his tone clear. “You know that’s not true.”

“Then why are you here instead of in bed with me?” Your tone softens, though the ache of loneliness seeps through.

You know he works hard, tirelessly, to provide for you, to ensure you both have the life you dreamed of. But knowing that doesn’t always make it easier to compete with the demands of his job. Sometimes, it feels like you’re fighting for scraps of his time, his attention.

He doesn’t respond right away, but he doesn’t need to. Over the years, you’ve learned to read every nuance of your husband—the slight crease between his brows, the way his lips press together, the tension in his jaw. Reaching up, you trace a finger along his jawline, your thumb brushing gently over the sharp curve of his cheekbone.

His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you feel the tension in him ebb away, piece by piece.

Javier’s arms tighten around you, one hand resting on your bare thigh, right where your oversized t-shirt rides up, the other pressing into the small of your back. “You want me to come to bed?” 

His warm breath sends a shiver down your spine as his nose skims along your jawline, and you hum in response, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

His lips ghost along your skin, scattering kisses that make your breath hitch. “Seems like I’ve been neglecting my duties. Got my girl sittin’ here, pouting in my lap, begging for attention.” The faint rasp in his voice has lust pooling low in your belly.

A whimper escapes before you can stop it, your hips shifting instinctively against his lap. You’ve missed this—the intensity, the intimacy, the way he always manages to make you feel like the center of his universe, even when life pulls him in every other direction.

His hand inches higher, the rough pad of his thumb brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his knuckles grazing the edge of your cotton panties, sending a spark through your body.

 “Bet she’s warm and wet for me,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear before catching your earlobe between his teeth.

Your thighs part almost involuntarily, “Javi,” you moan, burying your face in his neck, your lips latching onto the spot just below his jaw.

His groan vibrates against you, low and guttural. His free hand comes down hard on your thigh with a satisfying smack, making you yelp and arch in surprise. 

“You can’t be marking me up like that, mi amor. It’s not exactly professional for me to walk into a meeting with a giant hickey.”

You bite back a smirk, your teeth grazing his jaw before whispering, “I don’t care.”

His response is swift and deliberate. The hand that had been teasing between your thighs moves, strong fingers wrapping around your throat in a firm but unyielding grip. He pulls you back from his neck, forcing your gaze to lock with his. The intensity in his dark eyes makes your breath hitch, and the way his thumb brushes the underside of your jaw sends a thrill down your spine.

“Don’t be like this, baby,” he rasps, his tone commanding but laced with affection, his thumb brushing lightly over the delicate skin of your throat.

He leans in, drawing you closer by the grip on your neck, his lips brushing yours so faintly it feels like a tease.

The tickle of his mustache against your skin makes you shiver, your thighs twitching in anticipation. The ache between your legs grows unbearable, and your mind spins with the need to feel him—any part of him. His pretty mouth, his strong hands, his delicious cock… you’d take it all, every piece of him until there was nothing left to take.

“Please,” you whisper, desperation dripping from your voice as you close the sliver of space between you and kiss him. It starts soft, your tongue gliding along his bottom lip before slipping into his mouth, tasting him deeply. He responds with a low groan, his tongue tangling with yours, and the hand at your neck tightens just enough to make your head spin.

You moan into his mouth, your free hand sliding down the front of his shirt, savoring the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers flirt with the cool metal of his belt buckle before venturing lower, cupping his hardening length through his slacks.

The sultry sound that escapes him urges you to palm him, your touch deliberate as you apply more pressure, delighting in the way he twitches beneath your hand.

His hips shift involuntarily, and you squirm on his lap, the dampness between your thighs growing as your neglected pussy aches for attention.

Javier breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your jawline, then back to your mouth, where he bites and nips at your bottom lip. His hand moves from your throat to your chest, cupping and kneading your tits through the fabric of your shirt. The feeling has you arching into him, silently begging for more as your nipples pucker.

When his hand slides back between your legs, you let out a shaky breath, your head falling to his shoulder. His thumb traces a teasing line up your soaked slit, the fabric of your panties doing nothing to dull the feeling. He alternates between feather-light touches and firm squeezes of your thighs, keeping you trembling and needy in his lap.

You latch onto his lips again, kissing him feverishly, your desperation bleeding into every movement. The air between you is electric, the sound of wet kisses and shared breaths filling the room. Javier doesn’t pull away, doesn’t rush you—he matches your pace, taking everything you’re giving him and giving it back tenfold.

His thumb circles your clit over your panties, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallows with a grin. “You’re so wound up, cariño,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “Can’t even think straight, can you?”

You shake your head, a breathy moan spilling from your mouth as he continues to toy with you, always a tease.

Javier’s dark eyes flick up to yours, filled with that commanding intensity that never fails to make your stomach flip. “Sit on the desk.”

Without hesitation, you do as he says, sliding off his lap and onto the edge of the polished wood, your palms bracing against its surface.

You perch there, your knees drawn together, but the look in his eyes tells you he wants more.

Javier rolls his chair forward, the scrape of its legs on the floor adding to the charged atmosphere. He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your knee. The warmth of his lips against your skin is welcomed, and when he taps your other knee with his fingers, you know exactly what he wants.

“Spread them, baby,” his command is like gravel smoothed by velvet. “Let me see how wet you are.”

Your heart races as you part your legs, the mess between them undeniable. His gaze drops, locking onto the damp spot that has already formed in the center of your panties. A wicked smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he leans forward, pressing another kiss on your skin—this time on the inside of your knee.

His warm breath fans against your thigh as he drags his tongue along its length, stopping just short of where you ache for him most.

His curved nose nudges against your cunt, and you gasp softly, the intimate gesture making you feel hot all over. He inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if savoring the scent of you. “Tan rica, amor.”

Javier’s tongue presses against the fabric of your panties, licking a broad, wet stripe that has you quivering under his touch. Your elbows give slightly as you lean back, surrendering to him wholly.

He hums in satisfaction, his hands firm on your thighs to keep you steady and spread as he works you over by tonguing at you over the fabric.

When he hooks a finger under the edge of your panties and pulls them aside, the cool air hits your bare skin, making you whimper. His eyes darken at the sight of your glistening folds, the damp curls surrounding your beautiful pussy, and he lowers his head again, delivering gentle kisses with his plush lips. 

The wet sounds of his mouth meeting your skin are indecently loud, and the lewd intimacy of it has your head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mutters, his voice muffled against you. “Miss her so much. Miss you.”

The affection in his words melts into the overwhelming pleasure as his tongue dips into your slit, circling your clit with unrelenting precision. A soft moan escapes your lips, and your thighs twitch beneath his touch, unable to resist the way he knows exactly how to undo you.

He grips you tighter, keeping you spread for him as his tongue delves deeper, tasting every heady inch of you. His groans vibrate against your sensitive skin, and the sheer devotion in his actions leaves you trembling, utterly at his mercy.

“Javi,” you moan, his name spilling from your lips as he devours you with an unrelenting hunger. The coarseness of his mustache against your slick folds sends jolts of pleasure through your body, and your hips buck upwards, desperate to feel more of him.

When his teeth graze your swollen clit, you yelp, the sharp edge sensation of it making your back arch as you fall flat against the desk. The crumple of papers beneath you is barely a thought in your mind, overwhelmed as you are by the pleasure of his ministrations.

Your fingers find their way into his hair, tangling in the soft brown curls and tugging hard.

He groans against you, the vibration an added stimulant from the amazing head he’s always giving you. “Oh yes, Javi, just like that,” you gasp, urging him on as your thighs tremble.

His lips close around your clit, sucking harshly, and you feel your breath lodge in your throat. Then he shakes his head, the movement rough and deliberate, and the friction of his facial hair combined with the firm press of his nose against your most sensitive spot has you spiraling.

“Oh fuck!” you cry out, your body trembling as the tension inside you winds tighter and tighter, especially when he stuffs his tongue inside of your fluttering hole, fucking you with it.

Javier pulls back just enough to spit on your cunt, the lewd sound making your body crave him more. His fingers slide through the mix of saliva and your creamy arousal, swirling it around the mouth of your cunt before he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you.

Your back bows off the desk, a yelp tearing from your lips as he sets a rhythm that’s both rough yet fulfilling. His fingers curl and twist just right, pressing against that spot that makes your entire body vibrate and colorful spots dot your vision.

He doesn’t relent, his mouth is back on your clit in an instant, his tongue flicking over it with a precision born from all the hours he’s spent learning your body.

The combined assault of his mouth and fingers is too much and not enough all at once. You’re drowning in the sensations, every nerve alight as he drives you closer to the edge with every pump, every lick. “Javi,” you choke out, your nails scraping against his scalp as the heat in your core threatens to spill over. “I’m gonna—”

He hums against you, doubling down on his efforts as if daring you to let go, and with one final wet, hot suck, you do.

Your orgasm crashes over you, ripping through your body in waves that leave you crying out his name, utterly undone in his hands.

When he pulls away, a glistening string of your essence clings to his swollen lips. His tongue sweeps it up eagerly, savoring you with a deep, satisfied hum, as if he hadn’t just devoured you from the inside out.

You barely register the clink of his belt being undone, the metallic sound followed by the soft rustle of fabric as he pushes his pants down just enough to free himself. His cock stands thick and proud, the head flushed in an angry red and glistening with precum, his heavy balls hanging beneath it, full and ready.

The sight alone makes your mouth water and your cunt clench with fresh need.

Javier leans over you, capturing your lips in a messy, hungry kiss. The tangy taste of your arousal lingers on his tongue as it slides against yours, drawing a whimper from your throat.

His groan reverberates through you as he drags the velvety, swollen head of his cock along the sticky seam of your cunt, spreading your wetness and teasing your sensitive clit.

He swirls himself around your nub, igniting sparks all over your overstimulated body, then slaps the hot tip against your bundle of nerves, making you cry out. “Javi,” you gasp, your hips bucking toward him, desperate for more.

He finds your entrance, the warmth of you wrapping around him as he pushes in slowly, savoring every inch. The guttural sound he makes when he sinks into you is pure sin. “Always so wet and tight for me,” he grunts, his teeth gritting as your slick walls stretch to accommodate him.

You throw your head back, a litany of curses and pleas spilling from your lips. “Oh fuck—Javi—you feel so good. I need you to make me feel this for days.”

He growls low in his throat at your words, his hips pressing flush against yours as he fills you completely, the heat of his cock nestled deep within you. The damp fabric of your shirt clings to your sweat-slicked skin, but all you can focus on is the way he feels—how his cock seems to claim every part of you.

Javi kisses you again, rough and unrelenting, before standing to his full height, his strong hands gripping you as he adjusts your position.

Your hips dangle just over the edge of the desk, his hand squeezing the curve of your ass while the other slides beneath your shirt to cup your breast. His fingers find your nipple, tugging and rolling it as he begins to move, pulling out  almost completely, his cock glistening with your arousal before he slams back into you.

The wet, obscene sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, spurring him on. Your hips rise to meet his, finding a rhythm together that has both of you moaning unabashedly, the desk creaking beneath you. 

Your cries and his grunts blend into a symphony of lust. 

“That’s right, baby,” he says through clenched teeth, his hand leaving your breast to shove your shirt up, exposing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. His pupils dilate as he watches the bounce of your tits with each thrust, his cock sawing in and out of you relentlessly. “Fucking take it. Take all of me.”

You grab his hand, guiding it back to your chest. “Don’t stop,” you plead, holding his palm over your breast as your second orgasm builds, hot and insistent. “More, Javi—give me more.”

He nearly growls, his hands roaming over you feverishly before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you upright. Your legs wrap around his hips, your arms clutching his shoulders as he fucks up into you. The change in angle is devastating, each thrust hitting deeper, making you go absolutely fucking crazy.

Your cries of his name are music to his ears, your nails raking down his back as your slickness drenches his cock, soaking the front of his thighs. His balls slap against your ass with every thrust, heavy with the promise of his release.

You bite down on his neck, your lips sucking at the spot he’d scolded you for earlier. He doesn’t stop you, though; if anything, the sharp sting of your teeth makes his own head spin. His hips snap harder, his breaths ragged against your ear. “Shit, amor—I’m close. But you first. I need to take care of you.”

Leaning back, you brace your palms on the desk, your hips swiveling against him as the tension inside you snaps. Your walls flutter and tighten around him, milking his cock as you gush, your release coating him in a creamy sheen.

“Javi!” you scream, your entire body trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure.

His dark brown eyes are glued to where your bodies are joined, watching the creamy ring of your slick coating his cock with every stroke. It’s too much for him, and he buries himself deep with a hoarse shout of your name, his thick, hot release spilling inside you in thick, satisfying spurts, filling you to the brim.

Both of you collapse against each other, breaths ragged and mingling as your high slowly fades. His cock softens inside you, but neither of you rushes to pull away.

“It just gets better every time,” he murmurs, his lips peppering affectionate kisses along your neck and jaw before capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as he sighs contentedly. “Now,” you murmur, your voice soft and teasing, “will you come to bed?”

He pulls back just enough to brush his nose against yours, his lips curving into a smirk before stealing one last kiss. “Of course, mi amor.”

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part II)

Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 8.2 K

Warnings: Aegon takes minors to a brothel (but nothing sexual happens), characters get aged up, male masturbation, mutual pining, smut

AN: I am so blown away by the love you all showed for the first chapter, thank you all so much! Hope you enjoy xx

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

~~

Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. 

Aemond had been twirling her around the room practically the entire night. She knew he didn’t particularly enjoy dancing, but when she had asked him, he loathed to deny her. 

“Are you having a good name day?” 

“It’s my best one yet.” He smiled. He had woken that morning to her barging into his chambers, demanding her gift be the first one he received that day. Nothing could ruin such an incredible start to the day. 

He raised her hand over their heads and twirled her under his arm again, his own grin beaming at the sound of her delighted laughter. 

She tilted her head back as she spun and Aemond was struck by how happy she looked. She was happy with him, she was carefree with him. 

Despite how his feet began to hurt, or that he knew many pairs of eyes were staring at him, the desire to let go and sit back down was nowhere to be found. He wanted to stay with her. He wanted to continue to make her smile all night long

As she twirled again, her eyes found the head table, smiling to Helaena who was watching the dancers wistfully while her betrothed sat next to her downing another cup of wine. 

She flinched suddenly as she met the hard stare of the Hand of the King. Otto Hightower’s stare was enough to make her feel as though she was burning under such a disdainful look. 

Her shoulders tensed slightly before she found herself being spun again, back into Aemond’s arms. His smile faltered when he noticed her own smile dimmed. 

“Are you alright?”

She forced a mask upon her face, not quite understanding the contempt coming her way from his grandsire, and brought a smile back to her face. 

“I’m fine, just getting a little tired.” 

“Come on, we’ll take a break.” He took her hand in his and guided her back to the table.

Her father smiled at the two of them as they approached. 

“You two look like you’ve been having fun.” 

“We are.” She smiled, taking her seat next to him. Aemond moved to take the empty seat next to her when his mother called out to him. She beckoned him forward with a pointed look and he sighed, promising to find her later as he left her side to make his way back to the head table.

She watched him go with sorrowful eyes, her gaze moving over to Otto and suppressing a shiver at the cold look she received. 

She seemed to shrink in her seat, catching her father’s attention. He followed her gaze, his face hardening, his posture becoming rigid as he noticed the cold glare the Hand of the King was sending his daughter. 

He had never liked Hightower, he didn’t trust the man. He somehow always seemed to take control of the council meetings, proclaiming he knew what the King’s best interests were. He was a snake of a man and he would not let him drag his daughter into his games. 

He placed his arm over her shoulder, portraying a united front, a warning to anyone that would seek to bring her harm that he would deal with them swiftly. He may be the Lord of a peaceful house but that did not mean he did not know how to fight or that he wouldn’t commit whatever violence was needed to protect his family.

She stayed by her father’s side for the rest of the night, sharing looks of mourning with Aemond as he was sequestered to his mother’s side, unable to escape the politicking unfolding at the head table of Royals. 

As the celebration was winding down, most taking their leave for the night, she bid her father goodnight and sulked out of the large hall. 

She knew whatever reservations Aemond’s grandsire had of her would keep him from her, that there was no use in hoping for another moment with him. 

She shouldn’t have been so upset, she had practically the entire day with him and all her previous days, but that somehow didn’t stop the twisting of her insides as the thought of his own family disliking her, of there being some kind of plot to keep her away from him. 

The sound of her name being called made her raise her head, a smile growing instantly at the sight of Aemond waving her over. 

“Where are you going?”

“I was headed to my chambers. I thought the celebration was over.”

Aemond took her hand and pulled her along with him.  “Not yet.”

She smiled along with him, happily following him. As he guided her out of the Keep, her smile began to falter slightly in confusion.

“Where are we going?”

“Aegon said he had a surprise.”

An uneasy feeling began to fester within her. She didn’t particularly like any time she had spent with his older brother. She didn’t trust a single thing about him. Thoughts of the pink dread came to mind and she quickly held back the bitterness that grew. She didn’t want to doubt Aemond, but she had little hope this surprise would be a showing of brotherly love. 

As the two of them snuck passed the gates, a hooded figure waited for them. 

Aegon’s smirk dropped the moment he spotted the two of them hand in hand. 

“What the bloody hell is she doing here?”

“Aegon.” Aemond admonished. 

“I didn’t invite her, I invited you.”

“She’s my friend. She has every right to join us.”

The disdain on his face faltered slightly and soon morphed into a devious smirk, a laugh leaving his curled lips, one that made her stiffen.

“I do hope you enjoy the surprise, My Lady.” He drawled, the sickly sweet tone of his voice making her want to squirm and head back to the safety of her chambers. 

But Aemond’s hand in hers kept her in place, her stride matching his as they followed Aegon. 

The further they ventured from the familiarity of the Red Keep, the tighter Aemond’s grip on her hand became, his suspicions rising as they continued their trek deeper into the streets of Flea Bottom. 

He pulled her into his side as they passed a tavern, the rowdy sounds inside and the groups of drunken men they passed making his body stiffen. 

“Aegon, what are we doing down here?” He called to his older brother. 

No response was given and Aemond grit his teeth in annoyance. He should’ve known better than to trust his brother. 

They came to a nondescript door and Aegon turned to face them, that smug smirk still on his face that made her hand twitch, longing to smack it right off his face. 

“Well, brother, you’re almost a man grown. I think it’s time you get it wet.”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, confusion twisting his features as a pit of dread began to grow within him. Aegon opened the door and motioned them inside. 

When the two of them stood still in their spot, Aegon rolled his eyes and gripped onto the front of Aemond’s shirt, yanking him forward, his hand still clasped tightly in hers pulling her along with him, the two of them stumbling through the door ungracefully. 

The scantily clad women that filled the room made Aemond’s lone eye widen. He turned to his brother, his face red with both shame and anger. 

“Aegon, why are we here?”

“Don’t be so uptight, Aemond.” His brother waved him off, brushing past them to be welcomed into the arms of a whore he frequented. 

He was quickly guided off to a room, leaving the two of them to remain standing at the door stiffly, their shocked eyes taking in the room before them.

A group of women soon surrounded them, pulling Aemond away from her. 

He tensed as hands ran down his arms and he shook them off, his head craning to catch a glimpse of his friend. He called out her name, but if she gave any response it was drowned out by the tittering laughter of the women in front of him.

“Is she your betrothed?”

“We can help you, teach you how to please her.”

“We’ll make you a God, My Prince.”

Aemond’s face twisted in disgust at the filth they began to spout, shrugging off their wandering hands, flinching as a hand landed on his thigh, slowly beginning to creep upwards.

“Don’t touch me.” He snapped, his heart beginning to race as a dreadful feeling overcame him. 

He remembered it well, what it was like to not be in control. He remembered what happened the last time he had felt this helpless, wanting to scream but knowing no one was listening, no one caring about his discomfort. His scar flared with pain at the memory and he winced, pushing the woman who was trying to crawl into his lap away from him.

He called out her name again, panic seeping through his tone. 

He stumbled over his own feet in his haste to escape the gaggle of whores that tried to tempt him. He pushed them out of his way, one goal in his mind, one face he desperately needed to see. 

Across the room, he spotted her, his chest tightening as he saw the discomfort on her face as many pairs of hands tangled through her hair and pulled at her dress. 

“You’re a pretty little thing.”

“Just imagine when your tits come in, you’ll put all of us out of work. The men will be lining up to take a turn with you.”

“Don’t worry, Honey. We can prepare you so it won’t hurt too much when your old husband beds you.”

The whores’ words made her stomach clench and she squirmed under their hands that attempted to get her out of her clothes. 

The feeling of lips caressing her neck made her flinch, a small squeak of surprise escaping her before she could even fully realize what was happening. 

“Get off her.” A stern voice spoke.

She let out a stunted breath as she realized it was Aemond. She reached out and within a second, he hauled her up and wrapped her under his arm as he pushed their way out of the brothel. 

A ragged breath left him as the stench of perfume finally lifted, the debauched sounds of the pleasure house muffled and distant as the door closed behind them. He looked down at the girl under his arm and a bolt of worry shot through him at the sight of her blank stare.

A low hum rang in her ears, her body trembling slightly as it tried to make sense of what had just happened, of what could have happened. 

“Hey, look at me, please.” His pleading voice came through and she slowly raised her head, her gaze meeting his worried eye. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what he was planning. I never should have trusted him.” He rambled, his own voice wavering slightly, his trembling hands moving to cup her cheeks. “I swear to you, I never would have come if I had known.”

“It’s ok.” She breathed out quietly. 

He sighed, the fear on her face still evident. 

“Are you alright?”

She nodded wordlessly and he winced, the gesture so unconvincing he quickly wrapped her in a tight hug. 

“I’ll take you back to the Keep.” 

She looked down the darkened alley fearfully, the thought of making her way through the streets of Flea Bottom so late had dread settling in her stomach. 

“It’s ok.” Aemond assured her, taking her hand in his, noting the unease in her eyes. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” 

They began to walk, the silence between them stifling, something so unfamiliar to the inseparable pair. 

“I’m sorry.” She began quietly. “You don’t need to- you can stay if you wish. I don’t want to ruin your night.” 

Aemond stopped in his tracks, his lone eye wide with horror as he looked at her in complete shock.

“I don’t- no! I didn’t want- this wasn’t-” He was at a loss for words. He blew out a long breath, cursing Aegon profusely in his head. “I don’t want to… do what Aegon does.” He explained vaguely, unable to bring himself to speak of his brother’s depravity in front of her. 

The insinuation of him acting like Aegon, of sullying himself with the same debauchery that brought his family shame made his stomach twist. He never wanted her to see him like that, he never wanted her to think he would ever act like his brother.

Aemond ran a hand through his hair. “Fucking twat.” He mumbled under his breath. He wanted to throttle Aegon 

A small giggle met his ears and he looked at her, slightly bewildered by the small upturning of her lips he saw, so unlike the fear he had seen etched in her eyes just seconds before. 

“I’ve never heard you swear.”

He let out a small noise of surprise, unsure if she was truly smiling or if it was a ruse to placate him.

“So unbecoming of a Prince.” She jested and he let himself laugh, her sarcasm, her humor so like the girl he knew that it was enough to ease his worry. 

He liked his arm through hers, holding her closely to his side as they began to walk again. 

“Did this ruin your name day?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

He looked over at her thoughtfully. His day began with her, her excited smile beaming as she demanded he open her present, her at his side loyally all day. No one had ever been so attentive to him, not even on past name days. 

“No.” He answered honestly. Nothing could ruin the content she gave him, the feeling of being wanted and needed that surrounded him when she was around was stronger than any blow of shame Aegon could deliver.

Neither of them spoke of that night, the both of them too embarrassed by what they had seen and heard to say anything about it. 

Though the seeds of lust were planted. 

As the years passed and they grew older, their childhood innocence dissipating into adult desires and longing, it became harder to deny what was between them. The looks that passed between them were no longer the shared smiles of childhood friends, they were the looks of longing that stirred the shared hunger that grew steadily with each passing day.

After that night, she loathed to think of her friend, her Aemond, venturing back there with Aegon, indulging those whores, laying with them, letting them touch him, his own hands greedily touching every inch of their bodies. The thought of him laying with another was like a lance to the heart. 

The same dread plagued Aemond. 

He made himself sick thinking of his friend, the girl he always simply considered to be his, indulging one of the many suitors that ogled her.

Aemond thought of what those whores had told her, that she would have to lay with a husband leagues older than her and endure the lackluster and, most likely violent, attempts to produce an heir. 

The thought had his insides twisting. The thought of any man with their hands on her sent fury racing through him. 

As they grew, he couldn’t help but find his thoughts of her drifting to ones that would be considered less than innocent, not thoughts one should be having of a dear friend. 

He couldn’t help but admire her curves, the dip of her cleavage she had no trouble showing in the low cut gowns she wore around the Keep. It drove him crazy. 

It was becoming more and more common that he would wake, his thoughts racing of images of her lingering from his dreams. He would roll over, imagining she was laying next to him in his bed, tangled within his sheets, her sweet smile his first sight of the day. 

He had no time to feel guilty as his hand ventured below his sheets, as he found his hard length that was more often than not standing at attention to the thought of her. 

He would let his eye close, imagining her hand taking his place, of her sweet mouth taking him in, of the praises she would give him as he took her over and over, the sound of her delectable moans and pleas for him. 

His mouth would part with panting breaths as he thought of the pleasure he could give her, of the pleasure he longed to give her and the pleasure she would bestow upon him. 

His hand would speed as he neared his end, his body writhing among his silken sheets, his head fallen back against his pillow as he pictured her face, what it would look like as he brought her to climax.

The thought, as always, was his undoing. 

His lips parted with a long groan, the raspy call of her name becoming familiar to the walls around him. He panted as he expelled the last spurts of spend on his stomach, his limbs feeling weak as he let his fantasy dissipate. 

He didn’t know how much longer he could continue without having her in his arms. He didn’t know how he could endure meeting her gaze with such filthy thoughts of her in his mind. 

Later that day, as he caught her eye as she sat with the ladies of the court, he felt his face flush, the images of her he conjured in the privacy of his chambers rushing back to him. 

The warm smile and small wave she sent him only incensed him further, leaving him to contemplate for a few long moments whether he should neglect his training with Ser Criston to return to his chambers and deal with the heat she had unknowingly spread throughout his body that was undoubtedly weak for her. 

He was doomed to her.

The longer he repressed his growing feelings for his best friend, the more he couldn’t get her off his mind. 

He woke early one morning to avoid passing her by, knowing with one mere look at her he would be a distracted, bumbling mess for the rest of the day. He was determined to get through at least one training session without his thoughts drifting to her. 

He had been successful for a short time, managing to best Ser Criston time and time again, his focus purely on the weapon he wielded with precision. 

Until he heard that familiar laugh, a sound so purely wonderful, it almost knocked him off his feet. 

His gaze wandered around the training yard before they found her, as he always would, her arm linked through Helaena’s their smiles wide as they watched the training commence.

As if sensing his gaze on her, she turned her head, her eyes meeting his. She smiled, the sight blindingly beautiful. He sent her a wave, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn’t as severe as it felt. 

The sound of a throat clearing beside him broke him out of his daze and he turned sharply to meet the knowing smirk of Ser Criston.

“Shall we continue or are you done for the day?”

The knight’s tone implied he knew exactly what thoughts had been running through the Prince’s mind the moment he saw his dear friend. Anyone with eyes and half a working brain could see the affection the Prince and the Ixtal girl held for each other. 

Aemond grit his teeth, sending a glare the knight’s way as he spun his sword effortlessly, a flagrant display of his prowess with his beloved blade. 

“I am more than ready to continue, but if you require a break I will gladly find another opponent to knock into the dirt.” 

Criston snorted and raised his sword, giving the young Prince he had valiantly trained a pointed look. 

With one last gaze up to the woman on the balcony, the sly wink she sent him giving him all the drive needed, he raised his sword and struck a deadly swing towards his mentor who scrambled to block it. 

His heart raced with adrenaline. The wink she had sent him igniting the fire in his blood, only incenting him to display his power to her, determined to win, determined to show her his strength. 

He wasn’t a boastful man, he left those frivolities to his older brother, but when it came to her he suddenly didn’t recognize the feelings within him, the desires that had taken root that seemed to unravel him to his most basic senses. 

Up on the balcony she repressed a shiver as she watched Aemond fight with an ease that made her body heat and caused her mind to conjure things her Septa would’ve slapped her for ever thinking as an unmarried woman.

“He’s very good.” Helaena commented, not noticing the desire now lingering in her friend’s eyes. 

“Yes, he is.” She murmured, attempting to shake herself from thoughts of him handling her in the delicate yet deliberate way he did his sword.  

Later that night, as she and her father joined the Targaryen family for dinner, she couldn’t get her mind off of what she had seen in the training yard. She couldn’t help the nervous flutters that erupted within her as she took her seat in between Helaena and Aemond.

It was her usual seat, she had spent too many dinners to count by his side, but for reasons she couldn’t quite understand - or refused to - she suddenly felt bashful in her friend’s presence. 

The smile he sent her in greeting made her stomach flip.  

She could barely concentrate on anything besides his presence beside her. She was sure she was about to crumble into a puddle as his fingers brushed against hers as he passed her the jug of wine. 

She took greedy swallows of the drink, hoping it would dull her sense enough to withstand the looks he sent her every now and again, his smile warm, his gentle affection subtle but enough to undo her completely. 

As Helaena engaged her in conversation, telling her one of the many stories of her beloved twins, she let her thoughts of Aemond dissipate, smiling softly to her dear friend who glowed with her love of her children. 

She listened intently, allowing her nerves to retreat to the shadows of her mind. 

As conversations around the table continued, she let her eyes wander curiously. She turned her head, catching Aemond’s gaze already on hers. He straightened and abruptly tore his eye back to the plate in front of him, though the blush that grew on his cheeks was undeniable. 

A shock of excitement rushed through her at his reaction, suddenly realizing she wasn’t as hopeless as she had thought. She thought back to all the times she had caught Aemond looking at her, all the times he sought her out before anyone else, all the times he had abandoned whatever it was he was doing just to see her and spend a mere moment together. 

She suddenly wondered if it meant as much to him as it did to her. 

She wondered if her dear friend was caught in the same haze of longing she found herself drowning in. 

~~

The slamming of the door made her flinch, the book she was reading slipping from her hands. She sat up straighter when she noticed Aemond standing rigid, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he tried to rein in his anger.

“What happened?”

“My fucking grandsire.” He seethed. 

She remained seated and silent, allowing Aemond to vent out his anger. 

“They want to betrothe me to some Baratheon girl.” He explained as he began to pace erratically. “They’re bringing her to court for the Summer Feast. They expect me to do my duty with that plain-” He stopped himself abruptly before any insults could pass his lips. 

She frowned, setting her book aside. 

“Tell them you don’t wish to marry her.”

Aemond hummed, the sound more bitter than she had ever heard it. “My grandsire isn’t as agreeable as your father.” 

He knew the Lord of Ixtal had vetoed a number of requests for his daughter’s hand at her request. He didn’t want his daughter shackled to a man she did not desire. 

He wished his family was as caring to his needs as hers was. 

“Well, I guess you need to find the love of your life before the Baratheon girl arrives.”

Aemond looked over at her plainly, clearly not in the joking mood. 

“This is not funny.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t see what the issue is. Tell your family this isn’t what you want.”

“They don’t care about what any of us want. If they did, Helaena wouldn’t be forced at Aegon’s side.” 

She frowned at the mention of her dear friend and what she had to endure with her drunken leech of a husband. 

“I’m running out of time.” Aemond sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been able to keep them at bay the past few years, but they’re becoming more incessant, I can’t stall any longer.”

The thought of being forced to marry some girl he didn’t know, a girl who would never compare to the woman in front of him, the woman he longed for, desired before he even knew what it meant to desire a woman, left him feeling hollow. 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could solve this for you, but I don’t think your mother would take too kindly to my meddling.”

Aemond huffed out a laugh at the thought. He looked at his friend curiously, noting how cavalier she found the idea of marriage.

“Isn’t your father putting pressure on you to marry?”

“Not exactly. He’s hinting at the time coming for me to go back home, but no plans have been made just yet.”

Her words made his stomach twist. The thought of her leaving King’s Landing, of not seeing her everyday, was unfathomable. 

“They don’t have a courtship lined up for you?”

“No. Who I marry is my decision.”

“Is it that easy?”

She breathed out a small laugh at his disbelieving tone.

“Ixtal isn’t as conservative as King’s Landing. We don’t force people to be together, we don’t expect women to wait to find pleasure until marriage. We don’t expect a fruitful marriage to come from sexual disappointment.”

Aemond blushed at her words, his eyes darting to the wall behind her, unable to keep her gaze as she spoke of things his mother would’ve slapped their wrists for.

“My mother said marriage is for the sake of duty. To unite strong houses.”

She scoffed, sending her friend a pointed look of disappointment.

“You’re forced to marry for every reason other than your own happiness. It’s barbaric.”

“It is duty.”

“So you just accept it? Being tied to someone you don’t love for the rest of your life?”

“Some grow to love each other.” He said quietly, though he couldn’t deny how undesirable the customs, one he had known his entire life, sounded to his own ears.

“So if you’re betrothed to a Baratheon daughter, you’ll accept it?”

“No, of course not.” He answered immediately, his tone sharper than he intended. 

“Why? You’ll have to marry someday. Soon I’ll need to go home and find myself a nice man to settle with.”

The reminder of his time with her coming to an end made it feel as though his heart was turning to stone. Her previous words about Ixtal’s customs suddenly came screaming back to him and his hands tightened into fists, fury rising within him at the thought of men touching her, kissing her, making love to her.

“Aemond.” 

The sound of that beautiful voice saying his name made him look up, the anger inside him washing away at the knowing look on her face. She stood from her seat and took slow steps towards him until she was only inches away, making his throat tighten at the closeness he was constantly longing for. 

The unspoken things between them bubbled to the surface, reaching a boiling point as they looked at each other in the dim light, the topic of conversation causing tensions to run high, threatening to reveal true emotions that were kept hidden for so long.

“Eventually, you’ll have to marry, and so will I. We’ll have to do our duty, as you say.”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes unable to hold her gaze any longer, falling onto his hands that clenched and unclenched as waves of anxiety passed through him.

She sighed heavily and stepped past him, moving towards the door. She loved so many things about Aemond, but his refusal to feel anything but anger, his stubborn nature to speak his true thoughts, angered her.

“I don’t want you to go back to Ixtal.” He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. But she heard him. She would always hear him. 

“Why?”

“Because you belong here.” He told her, his gaze rising to pierce into hers, his tone becoming sharp once more. “Because the thought of you going home, marrying some man that doesn’t deserve you, makes me furious. The thought of you-” He stopped abruptly, looking away from her, his hands clenched tightly.

“Would you be jealous knowing another man has touched me?”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he turned on his heel and moved towards her so they were now chest to chest. He had to fight hard to keep his composure, to not close his eyes in bliss at the feeling of her body against his.

“I would kill every man that dared to touch you.”

A devious smirk grew on her lips, one he wanted to kiss away desperately. 

“Would you feel jealous if-”

“Yes.” She answered immediately, shamelessly. She smirked at the way his breath hitched, as the hunger in his eye grew tenfold. “I don’t share.”

Aemond almost choked on his breath at her insinuation. 

Her arms slithered over his shoulders, pulling him in closer to her, close enough they could feel the other’s heart racing wildly. 

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” She whispered and Aemond could’ve sworn he would melt into the floor into a puddle of nothing. 

Her lips crashed onto his and he was powerless against her touch. He kissed her back with a furious desperation, revealing every ounce of desire he held for her. He needed her like the air he breathed and it was never more evident in the way his lips molded against hers, in the way his tongue tangled with hers, how his hands held to her hips tightly, ensuring she couldn’t part from his side. 

Her nails scratched against the leather of his doublet as she kissed him fiercely, hoping he would understand, hoping the hunger in her kiss and touch was enough to make him realize she didn’t want anyone but him. 

His mind was blank save for thoughts of her. 

The duty he had adhered to his entire life, the duty that had been instilled in him since his birth, didn’t exist. His duty to his mother, to his grandfather, didn’t exist as he kissed her. 

He knew then and there that he was going to marry her, his only friend, the beautiful girl that had his young heart racing, or he wouldn’t marry at all. 

They pulled away from the kiss, the both of them breathing heavily, neither parting too far from the other. Aemond smiled softly and let his forehead rest against hers. 

“I won’t marry her.” He breathed out in promise, his chest tightening pleasurably as he saw the smile that grew on her kiss swollen lips. 

“Iksā ñuhon, issa prūmia.” He whispered and placed a soft, slow kiss to her lips once more. 

Her mind was racing. She knew few Valyrian words but none sounded familiar. 

“What does that mean?” 

Aemond just smiled and kissed her again, content to stay in that moment for the rest of his life. 

The gravity of their actions, the realization that anyone could have walked into the library and saw them, could have told his mother or his grandfather, didn’t catch up to him until he had parted from her side and settled into bed for the night. 

He lay rigid, his mind racing, his heart heavy with guilt. 

If anyone had seen them it would have ruined her reputation. She’d be painted as a whore. The court would speculate what other Lord she’d kissed or opened her legs to. 

Aemond couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t ruin her. 

The next morning, every ounce of bliss he had felt with her lips against his was tainted with worry. He found her in the gardens, his cold stare softening as he spotted her sitting with Helaena and the twins. 

The sight of her with little Jaeheara in her arms made his heart stop for a moment. He swallowed thickly, desperately moving past the emotions, the longing, the sight stirred within him. 

“Good morning, brother.” Helaena greeted him brightly. 

He just nodded briefly in greeting, his posture stiff as his gaze landed on her. 

“Can we talk?”

Her smile faltered slightly and she placed the babe in her arms back to her mother before taking his offered arm, Aemond guiding them away from prying ears. 

“Is everything alright?”

“What happened yesterday-”

“Do you regret it?” She asked stiffly, her worry evident as her grip on his arm became lax, as if she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but by his side. 

“No! Never.” He responded frantically, his eyes leaving hers to take in their surroundings, making sure no one would hear them. “Yesterday was… it was long overdue.” 

“Then why are you so tense?” 

“No one can know.” 

She sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging. 

“The rumors that would spread if people saw us together would ruin you.”

“I think you’re giving the court too much credit.” She responded flippantly, her annoyance growing at Aemond’s worry. “Are you going to let me have a say in this or are we going to let the court decide our future for us?”

He spoke her name softly in exasperation, sparking her anger. She wrenched her arm out of his and walked a few paces to gain distance from him. She couldn’t think clearly so close to him. 

“If you weren’t being truthful yesterday then tell me. Spare me the lies and tell me how you truly feel.” 

“I wasn’t lying.” He assured her, his heart beginning to race in fear for where this conversation was headed. He loathed to hear the doubt in her voice. “I refuse to marry the Baratheon girl, I only want you.” He told her, his voice much quieter than before. 

The fire in her eyes dissipated, her fears subsiding and she stayed still in her spot as he stepped towards her, closing the distance between them. 

“We must keep this between us for now, at least until my father is more lucid and I can take our betrothal to him. I cannot let my grandfather know of this. He will only find a way to speed up a wedding to the Baratheon girl or any other Lady in the Keep.” 

She looked up at him with a smirk, her heart jumping at his words. 

“Betrothal?”

Aemond flushed and cleared his throat, as if the words were tightening his throat.

“Well, yes… is that not what-”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” She spoke in an overly saturated tone, interrupting his nervous words. He looked at her fiercely, his lone eye betraying every ounce of lust, longing, and annoyance he held for her games.

“You will never stop vexing me, will you?”

“I am certain you love it.” She teased, his swiftly pink turning cheeks all the answer she needed from him. She straightened, clearing her throat, as she moved back to the matter at hand. “So we must sneak around?” 

He looked regretful, his hands gently taking hers. 

“I know it’s not ideal.”

She shrugged. “If that is the only way I can have you now, then I can live with it.”

Aemond smiled, a breath of relief leaving his lips, the heavy weight on his chest dissipating quickly. 

A smirk grew on her lips, one he knew signaled mischief. 

“So, that means we’d have to remain as friends in public.” She surmised, stepping closer to him, much too close, as their chests brushed against each other. “But behind closed doors…”

Aemond swallowed, his eyes fluttering closed as she leaned in, his lips brushing against his ear as she spoke. 

“...I can do what I want with you.” 

Aemond cleared his throat, desperately trying to keep a hold of what little control he had left. 

“When we are behind closed doors, which we are not.” He reminded her, sounding exasperated, making her laugh softly. 

She loved the effect she had on him.

“Meet me in my chambers tonight.” She whispered and placed a soft, barely there, kiss to his cheek, before leaving his side and making her way back to Helaena, leaving him with pink cheeks and a racing heart.

Night couldn’t have come fast enough. He spent the day training vigorously, Ser Criston taking the brunt of his pent up anticipation with round after round of sparring. His knee bounced impatiently throughout dinner, paying no mind to his mother’s attempts to bring him into the conversations he couldn’t bother to focus on. 

He waited, long, torturous hours, until the sun had finally set and night descended on the Keep, the halls clearing as Lords, Ladies and their servants alike settled in for the night. 

He paced in his room for longer than he would ever admit, his nerves bubbling low in his stomach, his hands twitching as he longed to reach for a goblet of wine to ease his worries. 

He knew if his mother were to ever discover he had entered a lady’s chambers in the dead of night, let alone a Lady he was undeniably close to, she would slap him until he found his sense once again. 

Though no amount of worry, no guilt over his allegiance to his duty could ever be enough to overtake what he felt for her, what he had unknowingly felt for so long. 

With only his desire to see her, he purposefully strode across his room and pushed at the stone wall, silently thanking his brother for drunkenly revealing to him the secret passageways years ago.

 It only took a few minutes until he found her door. With a deep breath, he stepped in slowly, his eyes immediately finding her as she sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed the sheer slip she wore as she readied herself for bed. 

He cleared his throat, feeling a blush quickly and involuntarily growing on his cheeks as her eyes rose to meet his. 

“You came.” She smiled. 

“Of course I did.”

She got to her feet, taking slow steps towards him, as if he were a wild animal that would spook if she got too close too quickly. She knew he had a strong sense of duty, of what behavior was becoming of a princely man, it had been instilled in him by his family since he was born.

She knew he was breaking every single one of those lessons by being in her room so late at night. 

“You know we do not have to sneak around. You can wait to court me as is proper.” She reminded him, hoping to ease his discomfort.

“I can’t take that risk.” He spoke smoothly, as if it didn’t even require a second thought. “I can’t take the chance that we will be denied. I can’t lose you before I’ve even had you.”

She smiled, her heart jumping in anticipation.

“So take me while you can.”

Barely a second later Aemond had crossed the room, his hands cradling her face gently as he crashed his lips to her, kissing her passionately, revealing every ounce of his desire for her. 

She moaned happily against his lips, the noise forcing his body to tighten, every shred of control he thought he possessed gone in an instant. 

They kissed as if they had been lovers for years, as if he had been gone for so long and they couldn’t wait to reunite as only lovers could. 

His hands greedily roamed the curves he had admired for years. Her hands wove into his silken hair she had braided many times as children. The innocence was gone between them, no childlike wonderment left, leaving only their loving, lustful desires. 

They pulled away after a few minutes, the both of them breathing heavily, their swollen lips turning upwards into a shared smile as their eyes met, the pure bliss in his lone eye matching hers. 

He moved in again, desperate to get her lips back on his, but her hands on his chest stopped him. His brows furrowed, a strike of worry lashing him as he gazed at her in concern. 

“I want to see all of you.” Her quiet voice spoke, her delicate touch framing his face, her fingers slowly canting upwards to trace the edge of his scar. 

He flinched instinctively, having never felt the touch of another there, but almost instantly calmed as he stared into her eyes that reflected nothing but love and trust. 

She had been there for him through everything, she had been the only one to see him for more than his title, to respect him as he was, simply a boy trying to find his place in the world. 

He let out a shuddering breath, allowing his forehead to rest against hers as he built up the courage he needed to reveal his eye to her.

“Every part of you is beautiful, Aemond. I have known that for years and I certainly won’t think differently tomorrow.” She reassured him, her velvet voice melting the hardened resentment within him. 

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and reached up slowly, willing his hands not to tremble as he grasped the patch over his eye. Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the sparkling sapphire in place of his eye. 

A small laugh left her, scaring him momentarily until he saw the delight in her gaze rather than mocking cruelty as he had suddenly feared. 

“I can’t believe you really listened to me.” 

He smiled bashfully, remembering a conversation years ago, when she had suggested he put a ruby in place of his eye to resemble that of a dragon eye. He never told her when he took her suggestion, feeling too silly to divulge such a thing. 

“Well, I’m sorry it’s not a ruby.”

She shook her head, her smile never faltering. “Why did you pick a sapphire?”

“It reminded me of the sea.” He stated simply, watching with bashful satisfaction as her smile smoothed out, her expression one of touched devotion.

He always told her she reminded him of the calming and luxurious blue waves that crashed on the shores of Ixtal, the waves he had become mesmerized by the day he met her. 

“It’s beautiful.” She breathed out, feeling unable to take her eyes off the shining gem that made the man in front of her look even more ethereal than he already did. 

Her eyes found the gem between every breathless and fiery kiss, somehow lingering as he pulled his clothes off, remaining, as if for comfort, as she bared herself to him for the first time. 

It was a beacon to her, the guiding light in the ferocity of a storm, calming every one of her nerves as she was reminded he was hers just as she was his, as they always had been. 

She felt as though there were sparks igniting under her skin as he touched her. She felt herself melt under his delicate fingers that curiously roamed her body. She felt beautiful under his awed gaze as he eagerly took in every inch of her, as if she were a divine entity he would soon bow to. 

The second a gasp escaped her as his fingers found the wetness between her thighs, Aemond’s eye snapped to hers. He watched with wonderment as she vocalized her pleasure, pleasure that was because of him. 

She smiled against his lips as he suddenly kissed her with a might she had never felt before. She was powerless against his hungry lips. 

He let out a stunted breath at the sound of the whine that fell past her lips as he curled his finger, seeking out her pleasure, eager for it as if it were his own

The two of them never let their eyes wander too far from each other. He watched with a wide, amazed gaze as he brought her to her peak with his fingers, delighting in the pain he felt as her nails dug into his shoulder as her hips grinded against his hand. 

The sounds of her soft moans echoed in his ears, alighting his body with furious desire. 

As he settled between her legs, he looked down at her, his eyes posing his silent question, the devotion she saw from the beauty of his lone eye, that she felt from the gentle touch of the tips of his fingers that traced lines up and down her thighs, was enough to have her nodding immediately, fiery want washing over her. 

He never dared to look away from the depth of her eyes as he delved inside her for the first time. 

He watched her carefully, whispering apologies as she gasped, the foreign feeling making her tense slightly. His gentle caresses, his soft kisses down the length of her neck, the words of praise he gave her, were enough to soothe her, her body relaxing, the pain fading.

He began to thrust slowly, the pleasure soon becoming too much and his eye fell closed as he shuddered from the delirious pleasure of being inside of her, but he forced himself to bring his gaze back to her, taking in the starry eyed look in her own. 

Their hands never left each other, Aemond gripped her hips as if he feared she would soon be forced away from him, her hands gripping onto his shoulders to ground herself in the wake of the unexpected pleasure he brought her. 

His nose brushed against hers as he kissed her softly, his hips finding a rhythm that made them both sigh in delight. He felt his limbs tremble, his resolve slipping the longer he stayed inside her, quickly realizing nothing in his entire existence would ever compare to this, to being with her, the woman he loved more than life itself. 

“Aemond.” She breathed out, pleading for him, pleading for this never to end, to never lose each other. 

He squeezed his eye shut briefly, his movements becoming more controlled as he let his body adjust to the ecstasy he was feeling. 

“You’re mine.” He panted, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin affectionately. “You will always be mine.” 

She nodded frantically, a moan falling past her lips as he found the spot inside her that made stars explode before her. 

The noise had Aemond gritting his teeth, a desperate growl sounding and he knew this would be ending soon. 

He quickened his movements, his hips rolling rapidly against hers. He choked out a surprised sounding moan as her legs wove around his waist, pulling him in deeper. 

“Oh, Gods, I can’t-”

“Give it to me, Aemond. I want it. I want all of you.” She replied frantically, the growl in his voice causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. 

She watched, entirely raptured by the sight before her as Aemond’s jaw dropped, his eye widening before slamming shut, his body trembling as a loud, desperate sounding groan fell from his lips. His hips became erratic, his movements becoming sloppy as he came hard, untethered from his control.

She gasped at the feeling, the tingling in her spine spreading until it burst, a cry of his name sounding in the room as she fell off the edge just a moment behind him. 

Aemond slumped against her, his chest heaving alongside her own, his shuddering breaths cooling the skin at her shoulder where his head rested. 

She ran her hands over his muscled shoulders and found their way into his hair and she began to run her fingers through his mussed strands gently as she found her way back to her body.

After a moment of quiet as their breathing relaxed, Aemond raised his head, his eye finding hers, her gaze locking onto the gem once more, their shared smiles bashful. 

A soft giggle sounded from her and Aemond wanted to melt into her all over again. He rested his head against hers, placing a soft kiss to her lips. 

“I love you.” He whispered in the quiet room. 

“I love you.” She told him with just as much honesty and devotion as had sounded in his voice. 

~~

ENJOY! XX

[vixeneptune]

IRRESISTIBLE MAGNETISM vaunt 🧲

You have no idea how magnetic I am. It’s honestly unreal. I’m so magnetic that I don’t even have to lift a finger—everything I desire is drawn to me as if I’m a force of nature. My energy? It’s irresistible. My desires don’t just find me; they crave me. They have no choice but to flow into my life because my aura is just that powerful.

I have this natural pull, this undeniable force that makes people, opportunities, and abundance gravitate toward me. It’s like I don’t even need to think about it. My magnetism operates on a level that most people can’t even comprehend. It’s like the universe is conspiring in my favor every single second. Whatever I want comes to me effortlessly, like it was always meant to be mine.

When I walk into a room, my energy speaks louder than words. People feel it—they can’t help but notice me. It’s not just about my appearance, though that’s irresistible too. It’s the way I carry myself, the way my presence demands attention. People can’t stop thinking about me. I stay in their minds, and they replay every moment they’ve had with me over and over. I leave an impression that’s unforgettable.

And it’s not just people. Opportunities line up for me like they’re waiting for my permission. Money? It flows to me effortlessly, as if I’m a magnet for wealth. Love? It’s drawn to me like I’m the most irresistible person in the world. Everything I want already belongs to me—it just shows up in my life exactly when I need it.

Here’s the thing: I don’t chase. I don’t beg. I don’t force anything, because I don’t have to. My magnetism is so insanely powerful that everything I want comes straight to me. I set my intention, and the universe handles the rest. My energy is unshakable, undeniable, and completely irresistible. Nothing and no one can resist me. It’s like the entire world is designed to work in my favor, and I love it.

I am the kind of person who always gets what I want because my energy commands it. I have complete confidence in my power. It’s not just luck or chance—it’s who I am. I am the embodiment of attraction. My aura is a masterpiece of magnetism, and it’s only getting stronger every day. This is my reality, and it’s the most natural thing in the world for me.

When I want something, it’s mine. No obstacles, no delays, no exceptions. It’s as simple as breathing. My power is limitless, my energy is irresistible, and my life is proof of that every single day.

That’s just the kind of person I am: effortlessly magnetic, endlessly powerful, and undeniably unforgettable.

You don’t understand just how magnetic I truly am. It’s as if the entire universe is wired to respond to me. My energy doesn’t just attract; it commands. The things I want? They don’t just find me—they chase me. My magnetism is so powerful that it feels like my desires are obsessed with me. They can’t resist me. Nothing and no one can.

It’s as though there’s this invisible force around me, pulling everything I dream of directly into my life. People feel it instantly. The moment they meet me, they’re captivated. They can’t explain it, but they’re drawn to me like I’m the most irresistible thing they’ve ever encountered. My presence is unforgettable—I stay on their minds, effortlessly. They replay every conversation, every glance, every moment with me because I’m that magnetic.

And it’s not just people—it’s everything. Money flows to me like water. Opportunities show up in the most unexpected ways, as if the universe is constantly bending over backward to deliver exactly what I want. Abundance surrounds me because it’s attracted to my energy. My life is proof that my magnetism is working 24/7, effortlessly drawing in the best of everything.

The way I attract isn’t normal—it’s supernatural. My aura is so strong that nothing can resist me. I radiate confidence, power, and beauty in a way that’s impossible to ignore. It’s not even about what I do—it’s who I am. My energy alone is enough to bring everything I want right to me. It’s like I’m operating on a different frequency, one where everything aligns perfectly in my favor.

And the crazy thing? I don’t have to try. I don’t stress. I don’t overthink. My magnetism works for me effortlessly. All I have to do is exist in my power, and the universe takes care of the rest. People, opportunities, success—it all gravitates toward me as if I’m the sun and they’re orbiting in my light. I shine, and everything I desire comes to bask in my glow.

Every step I take, every word I speak, every thought I think is infused with this magnetic energy. I’m so irresistible that even the impossible becomes possible for me. Barriers? They don’t exist in my world. If I want something, it’s already mine. My power overrides every obstacle, every limitation. My magnetism turns “no” into “yes” and “maybe” into “definitely.”

People feel my energy before I even speak. My confidence, my beauty, my aura—it’s overwhelming in the best way. They don’t just notice me; they remember me. I stay in their thoughts, their dreams, their fantasies. I’m the kind of person who becomes their standard for perfection. They’re drawn to me like moths to a flame, and they can’t help themselves.

But my magnetism goes deeper than just attracting people. It’s about my entire reality. I shape my world with my energy. I am a master at manifesting because my magnetism makes everything easy for me. I don’t just want things—I expect them, and they always show up. It’s inevitable because my energy is so potent, so irresistible, that the universe can’t help but deliver.

I’m in control. I’m powerful. I’m magnetic beyond belief. My desires don’t stand a chance—they’re mine, every single one of them. This is my reality, and it’s only going to get better, because every day my magnetism grows stronger. This is who I am. This is my power. This is my life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Satoru Gojo

Summary: Satoru struggles with his two babies.

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*I used the two babies from baby steps for this, but you don't have to read to enjoy the fluffy oneshot🥹

“C’mon, Seiji. Vegetables are so good. yummy.” Satoru is trying to bribe his almost-two-year-old into eating the rest of his food, alas, he doesn’t sound too convincing. He tasted the vegetables, they aren’t too good but you cooked them so he isn’t going to bash them. Seiji really doesn’t care about not hurting anybody’s feelings at this stage of his life, so even though his dearest mother made them, he refuses to eat them.

Satoru sighs defeatedly, putting the fork down. He guesses Seiji doesn’t have to eat vegetables every day to grow strong. He picks Seiji up from the high chair, putting him down on the ground to allow him to walk around and do whatever he likes to do. Lately Seiji loves to play with any piece of trash he finds, making Satoru realize that he’s wasted thousands of dollars on toys.

“Don’t be too loud! Don’t wake your sister up.” Satoru yells, knowing that Seiji really doesn’t care about that. The baby only has one thought in his mind and that’s to play with whatever he gets his hands on. 

Satoru really thought that handling two babies under two would be a breeze, he’s the strongest, he can accomplish just about anything… But his two kids tire him out. Saori cries so much that he anticipates in horror the moment that she wakes up. Seiji never stops moving, it’s nearly impossible to get him to stand still for a moment. He loves his babies more than anything, but he’s rightfully tired.

Satoru is being the best husband that he can be by taking care of his babies while you study and finish up your degree. But two tiny humans are slowly ending his life. Satoru follows Seiji around, deciding to just let him wander around the house because Seiji hates to be put in his playpen lately.

“Dada.” Seiji points up when he gets to the stairs, looking back at his father. Satoru shakes his head, picking up Seiji and taking him back to the living room so he can find something there that he can engross himself with. Seiji makes sure to let out a dramatic cry because he hates being carried and contradicted. He doesn’t want to go to the living room, he wants to go upstairs.

“Crying isn’t going to do anything, baby. You’re staying down here.” Satoru says as he carries Seiji away. Seiji makes sure to yell,

“Down! Down!” Which actually works on Satoru today because he doesn’t want Seiji to wake up the sleeping baby. When his tiny feet hit the ground, Seiji begins to run around which isn’t really an issue for Satoru since he only has to take two steps to catch up to Seiji.

It’s boring, really, but he prefers walking after his toddler better than trying to entertain both babies while they’re awake. Seiji doesn’t care for his parents' attention until Saori is awake; when she’s awake he wants to become the center of attention.

Satoru really thinks he’s safe, until he hears her cries from upstairs, and the loudest sigh leaves his lips. He picks Seiji up, making him kick his feet and cry, demanding that he’s put down. Luckily for him, his father listens to his wishes and puts him down. Unluckily for him, he’s put down in the playpen that lately feels like a prison. 

“No! Out!” Seiji demands, but Satoru doesn’t listen. He leaves Seiji there while he goes upstairs to pick up Saori from her crib.

When he gets there, he notices his baby girl is sitting up, waiting for him to finally pick her up. He coos, approaching the crib and picking her up, “Hi my sunshine. Did you sleep well?”

She doesn’t stop crying so easily though. He changes her diaper, and the crying gets worse. He tickles her tummy, laughing to himself, “Aren’t you a hungry girl? You ate one hour ago too.”

He guesses he can’t blame her, a bottle of milk wouldn’t be enough to hold him over either… But he guesses he’s four times her size and two decades older than her. He exits the room, getting more irritated by the second with the crying baby that’s in his arms. 

He begins to walk down the stairs, and that’s when he sees a little rascal holding to the railing and trying to walk upstairs. His eyes widen, his first thought being: how the hell did Seiji escape his playpen? Seiji finally looks up, seeing his father at the top of the stairs. He lets go of the railing, his hands going over his tiny mouth, his signature move for when he gets caught.

Satoru watches it happen in slow motion. Seiji’s tiny feet on the edge of the stair, he tips over and falls back from the stairs until he’s back on the first floor again. At least Seiji was only on the third stair up so it wasn’t a long fall– However, he cries his heart out as if he was at the very top.

“Seiji, how the hell did you even get out of the playpen?” Satoru is reasonably angry because he has two crying kids to soothe on his own. He doesn’t want to bother you while you study so it’s his problem, and only his. He doesn’t know which problem to tend to first. 

Satoru just knows one thing, and he hates thinking about it, but he wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if he had used a condom.

[catsoupki]

花的名字 / flower territory (bakugou x reader)

Summary: a flower has its cycles, it buds, it flourishes, blooms, and it dies, yet you’re still a constant in his life, he’s a sunflower that doesn’t look away

Warnings: improper capitalisation i’m afraid :( very very fluffy ! inspired by this wonderful post and this AMAZING one, both written by @cashmoneyyysstuff lmk if u want this taken down! (editing rn and i feel like flower territory is not the best title but im just so EMOTIONAL over it …. attachment issues fr)

wc: 700

the way katsuki crushes on you has stayed the same, since he was four he has made sure that everyone, including you, always knew that you were his.

he offers you roughed up flowers from the sandbox, covered in dust and dirt, shoved into your hands are the bundle of wild chrysanthemums and crumbled weeds, and in exchange are the paper rings you made before going to the park, because even when you were four, you already knew bakugou in the way you knew the names of the stuffed animals in your room; a sense of pride nestles inside, somewhere between your little childishly innocent heart and your soft fluttering stomach when you see your katsuki declare proudly with a smug smirk to all his groupies that he's now a married man, and that doesn't change.

in middle school, aged 12 bakugou isn't afraid to lean over your desk and stare you down and demand your time during recess, even though his cheeks used to redden when his female classmates would tease him for being such a romantic for you, he's learnt that it's either he toughens up and take this, or he has to deal with the other boys from his class chatting you up, and seeing their little cheeks tint with pink when they're spared even an ounce of (undeserved) attention from you is much more painful than having his own apples go fuzzy from your gaze.

katsuki changes a lot in U.A. but not in this. maybe the other class 1A kids don't have enough reference to notice, but izuku sure as hell can tell that the slight glisten and shine in his childhood best friend's eyes when he looks at you have only ever grown in brightness as you mature and age. as your body takes shape and your voice deepens, his affection for you simply gets magnified from a sheer adoration for your ability to keep up with him on the monkey bars and to withstand his loudness, either that be from the epicentres of his palms or the ever growing intensity of his voice when deku gets in his way, his respect for you grows and grows and festers and festers the more you win in the sports festival, the more you train, the more muscular you get, and the more internships you are offered.

as his own brashness gets dimmed down while the months go on, deku is no longer the only one who is able to notice the soft spot he has for you. jirou and shoji can only ignore the way bakugou whispers 'that's my girl' to you during class drills so many times, ochako and mina can only turn a blind eye to the way bakugou always cooks for you during the late nights where you collapse from exhaustion before eating so many times, by the end of the second year, even shouto knew to always find bakugou when you got hurt during missions and to just leave you two to your own devices for the rest of the evening.

the smirks might have grown less and less smug throughout the years and maybe more genuine, but the childlike wonder when katsuki looks at you stays always the same, it stays constant from when you were four all the way to when you're walking down the altar, it stays the same, from stepped-on flowers to bouquets of roses, from 'that's my girl' to 'that's my wife', you've always been his, the switch from craft paper to the 24 carat diamond ring on both your fingers never changed that; his face, to deku, looks identical; whenever dynamight is on a talk show and is asked to watch a clip of you fighting, the soft creases next to his eyes have always been there, bakugou's lips just twitch upwards when it's you;

what can he say? your katsuki has always been a prodigy, he knew since he was a kid, since the second his grabby little hands and tiny rolling eyes were laid on you, he has since decided that you were the only one worthy of his greatness, no matter how shitty his temper was at age 15, he looks at you like how sunflowers look at the sun, and that will never change.

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Kinich

In honor of Kinich's birthday, I wrote a NSFW alphabet to celebrate. There's just something about him that has a firm grip on me, and I've been unable to stop thinking about him for a solid month. I'm posting this at 11:11 (my time), so let this also be a tribute in the hopes he'll come home on his rerun 🙏

Kinich x fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kinich is quite good at aftercare. He’s attentive to your needs and asks how you’re feeling and if you need him to get you anything or help with cleanup. Even before you say anything, his keen eye picks up on your physical state, and Kinich will go out of his way to help you with whatever he can.

He gets you whatever you ask for, be it water, a towel, or a kiss, and carries you to the shower if you’re too weak to walk. He apologizes for being too rough on you and makes a mental note to be gentler next time. Kinich makes it up to you by letting you rest and taking care of your household duties the following day.

After cleaning up, if it’s not too late in the day, he’ll whip up a simple meal for you to share. Alternatively, he might stay in bed and cuddle if he needs the rest. Kinich enjoys cuddling after sex and basking in the afterglow. There’s something nice about holding and treating you with tenderness after such a passionate encounter. It deepens his affection for you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Kinich doesn’t have a favorite body part on himself, but he does prize his body as a whole. His childhood taught him early on the importance of having a well-maintained body. Without it, he wouldn’t have survived. It’s also his bargaining chip with Ajaw, so he considers his body to be one of his greatest assets. Kinich takes care to stay in shape, which his physically demanding commissions and extreme sports hobby make easy to accomplish.

As for your body, Kinich also has no preference. He loves you for who you are rather than what you look like, but he does have a slight fascination with the nape of your neck. He catches himself wanting to kiss it when standing or lying behind you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s thin and a healthy white. Has a slightly salty flavor. Doesn’t have a strong preference for where to cum, but he usually does it inside unless you tell him otherwise. He is hesitant to cum on your face because he thinks you won’t like that. You’ll need to tell him it’s okay otherwise he’ll avoid that area.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The first time you wore a swimsuit, Kinich was captivated by how pretty you looked. He already thought you were attractive, but something about seeing you in a flattering swimsuit and exposing so much skin made him pause and take an appreciative glance at you. His usual stoic expression didn’t change, but Ajaw noticed the subtle way Kinich’s eyes trailed down your figure, lingering on you for a moment too long.

Of course, Ajaw’s immediate response was to mock Kinich for checking you out, and the Saurian Hunter had to lock the menace away to keep him quiet. Though it would have been embarrassing to be exposed for checking you out, Kinich worried more about Ajaw making you uncomfortable with his blunt and crass commentary, so he did what he could to prevent that. Kinich also complimented your appearance, wanting you to know he thought you looked pretty in your swimsuit. (There was also a lot of fruit bribing happening behind your back so Ajaw wouldn’t open his big mouth once he was let out)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Kinich has no experience. He never sought romantic or sexual relationships, preferring to be by himself and taking care of his sexual needs on his own. Intimate relationships weren’t a priority or something he was interested in. Once Ajaw entered his life, the pixelated menace’s rudeness and narcissism kept others away from Kinich, so such chances became even fewer, though Kinich didn’t mind.

Despite having no prior experience, Kinich does have a working knowledge of sex. He sees it mostly as a means of reproduction, but he’s read and heard enough to know it’s also done for pleasure, to relieve stress, and to deepen bonds between romantic partners. He never really gave it much thought until he formed a romantic relationship with you and wondered if sex was something you wanted to have with him in the future. He looked into it more once you started discussing the possibility of being sexually intimate. Due to his cautious nature, Kinich wants to be prepared for all kinds of situations, so he spends a great deal of time researching guides and tips on how to have safe sex.

The Saurian Hunter doesn’t let his inexperience hold him back. Even during your first time, he acts assertively and confidently when exploring your body and learning your likes and dislikes but remains gentle. Kinich’s preparedness gives him a good idea of what to do to please you and keep things comfortable and safe so you can both enjoy the experience. However, as a beginner to sexual intimacy, he would still appreciate it if you gave him some guidance on how you want to be pleased and communicated with him about your needs. He wants to polish his skills to please you to the best of his ability.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Kinich favors classic positions like missionary, cowgirl, and doggystyle.

Missionary allows him to see your face and establish a more intimate emotional connection. It’s his go-to when he craves romantic lovemaking. It also makes it easy to kiss you, hold your hand, and bite your neck. Kinich enjoys variations on missionary as well, such as hiking your legs onto his shoulders or pressing your knees to your chest for deeper and tighter penetration.

With cowgirl, he enjoys letting you take the reins and move how you like. There’s something hot about watching you bounce on his lap and get off with his cock, not to mention the alluring view he has of your body. While you ride him, Kinich helps guide your hips with his hands and thrusts up into you when he gets closer to his peak.

As for doggystyle, Kinich likes to use this position when you don’t have as much time to make love but still need sexual relief. It’s a tad primal, and he’s fond of the tighter squeeze this position offers. Watching you melt and moan under him makes his self-control slip a little, so Kinich tends to fuck you harder in this position. He presses his chest against your back, blanketing your body with his to stay close to you and because he likes biting your neck and shoulders.

Kinich’s athleticism and equipment allow him to try some less conventional sex positions, though he generally won’t choose them unless you express an interest in trying something new. If you so wish, he’ll use his strength and flexibility to try out one of the more difficult positions, or even get out the ropes and hooks, but only after careful research about the associated safety hazards. Sex should be fun, yes, but doing so safely is still a higher priority for him. The last thing he wants is for either of you to get injured.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As with most things, Kinich approaches sex seriously, but he does try to keep the mood relaxed. He doesn’t crack jokes, but his demeanor softens. He asks for permission to touch you, and frequently inquires if you’re okay and want to keep going, giving you a chance to stop should you want it. He takes your needs and comfort very seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Has a small patch of curly dark hair. He grooms it just enough to keep it orderly but doesn’t spend a lot of time trimming it to perfection.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kinich is not the greatest romantic, but he does value an emotional connection during sex. He has come a long way in learning to trust and open up to people since his turbulent childhood, but the vulnerability and intimacy that come with sex and romance can make him uneasy. As such, Kinich only has sex with someone he deeply loves and trusts. Only such a person has the privilege to witness such a vulnerable part of himself.

Because he views most things in life as a transaction, if you entrust your heart and body to him, Kinich will see it as his duty to show the same amount of love and trust in return. He cherishes your trust and affection and wants to repay you in kind. This manifests in him holding your hand during lovemaking, openly looking at you with desire and adoration, and leaving soft kisses all over your skin.

He’s not the best with words, but Kinich tries his best to compliment you. It’s nothing flowery, usually just a simple “you look beautiful” while he admires your figure, or “you feel good”, and of course a whispered “I love you” during tender lovemaking.

As mentioned previously, Kinich values your comfort so he frequently asks how you’re feeling and if you want to keep going. He doesn’t want to force you if you don’t feel ready or want to stop, and neither does he want to push your body past its limits. Hurting or upsetting you is the absolute last thing he wants, so he gives you opportunities to leave the situation in case you want them. He’s very considerate towards you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Kinich doesn’t masturbate often. He’s usually busy completing commissions so he doesn’t have the luxury of thinking about his sexual needs. If he needs to relieve stress, then his preference for that is through extreme sports.

Nonetheless, he still experiences the urge for sexual relief, so Kinich usually masturbates while taking a bath. It’s one of the few moments he has completely to himself, plus it makes cleaning up any evidence of his lewd activities extremely easy. Kinich is cautious, however, and stifles his voice and other sounds to remain discreet.

He usually doesn’t think about anything while jacking off, but when he fell in love with you, he caught himself masturbating more often and fantasizing about you in your swimsuit or of you touching him like this. He was ashamed of thinking of you this way at first, but that shame went away once you became sexually intimate. If you ever ask him about whether he thought of you while masturbating, though, he will be honest and forthright when admitting that he had and still does when you’re not available.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Kinich leans more dominant, but he doesn’t enforce his authority. He doesn’t order you around or give commands, but he can pin your wrists down and act assertive to get what he wants from you (all while being respectful of your wishes and first gauging if it’s something you’re anticipating him to do. Kinich would never force himself on you).

He’s fine with you taking the lead if you have an interest in being dominant, and looks forward to seeing what you have in mind for your session together.

One of his biggest kinks is marking. Kinich likes to leave hickeys and bite marks all over your skin, particularly your neck, shoulders, and inner thighs. It’s a primal urge he gets when having sex, and he takes delight in seeing his marks on you in the following days. It makes him feel like he’s staked his claim on you, marking you as his. Of course, he doesn’t go overboard and listens to you if you say you don’t want the marks to be visible. He’ll settle for marking up your shoulders or inner thighs where the marks won’t be seen by anyone except him.

Kinich is also into hearing you beg. He won’t go out of his way to tease and demand you beg for his touch, but if you do so of your own volition (ex: “Kinich please, I need you”) then it sets off something primal inside him. Hearing how needy you are for his touch sends sparks of lust through him and makes him eager to fulfill your desires.

He’s also into light bondage. Nothing complicated, just some scarves or rope to tie your wrists with will do (his knots are secure, but he makes sure the bindings are loose enough to not chafe your skin. Though he’ll tighten them if you ask). Conversely, he can use his hands to pin your wrists down (and lace your fingers together). He’s not into being tied himself, though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Kinich isn’t against having sex outdoors, but only if you’re in a location that’s safe from potential intruders and wild beasts. He’s open to making love to you while camping, be it in a tent or under the starlit sky but won’t push you if you’re not comfortable with the idea.

At home, to avoid getting caught by Ajaw, Kinich prefers to have sex either in the bedroom or bathroom where you have more privacy. On the occasions when he gets a friend to babysit the menace, Kinich is down to make love pretty much anywhere at home, he’s not picky.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

One of the best ways to turn Kinich on is to express your love for him. Heartfelt words of affection, acts of service, or thoughtful gifts touch his heart. He is overcome by love for you in those moments because you make him feel cherished and cared for, and Kinich feels an impulse to show you that he loves and appreciates you too. He’s not good at sappy love confessions, so this impulse manifests physically. What starts as a gentle kiss of gratitude grows into something passionate as Kinich’s need to express his feelings for you intensifies. This can sometimes result in him making love to you.

Kinich’s self-control and patience are high, but there are a few other things you could do to wear away at them. For example, being assertive in initiative sex. Straddle his lap and teasingly trace your hands over his body, give him kisses along his jaw and neck, whisper in his ear how much you crave him, and lust will ignite in his loins.

Alternatively, you could wear flattering clothes that hug your figure, such as swimsuits or sportswear (he likes to admire how nice you look in them), or press up against him and let him feel the softness of your body. It’s unlikely Kinich will snap, but his interest in sexual intimacy will heighten considerably, and he’ll look for an appropriate opportunity to satiate your carnal desires.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Kinich dislikes being restrained or losing control of his body, so things like bondage and blindfolds make him uneasy. Plus, half the fun of sex is being able to touch you, so being tied up deprives him of the joy of exploring your body and making you feel good.

Kinich also takes no enjoyment from impact play. He doesn’t hate it but simply doesn’t derive any pleasure from the pain, especially because his associations with being hit aren’t good ones. Similarly, he won’t hit or degrade you either, not wanting to be like his father even if it’s light-hearted play with the intent to feel good.

Additionally, Kinich isn’t into roleplay. He doesn’t see the appeal and finds it awkward to act as someone he’s not, especially in a sexual situation. He’d much rather you and he act like yourselves and show appreciation and love for who you are without the extra obstacles.

He’s also not fond of sharing you or having third parties join your sessions, preferring to keep things private. Only you get to see this vulnerable side of him, and he hopes you share the sentiment of wanting him to be the only one to see you like this, as well.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Kinich’s inexperience might make him a little awkward at oral sex at first, but he is devoted to your pleasure and does his best to learn all the ways you like to be eaten out. Whenever he gives you oral, he keeps his eyes fixed on your face and takes mental note of which pressures and touches of his tongue and fingers get the best reactions out of you. He wants to use this knowledge to improve his oral skills so he can better please you.

Kinich has no qualms about going down on you because he strives to make you feel good, and as such, will bury his face between your legs and lap away at your folds until you’re writhing under his touch. He doesn’t mind if you tug his hair or buck your hips against his face, though if you squirm too much or impede his progress by clamping your thighs around his head, then he hooks his arms around your thighs and pins them down to keep you still. Kinch only lets go once he’s brought you to orgasm.

Despite his transactional outlook on life, Kinich doesn’t expect you to give him oral in return for eating you out. If you bring him to orgasm through any other means, then he considers it even. That said, he views it as his duty to go down on you if you give him a blowjob. He loves giving you oral. There’s something so erotic about hearing your moans of pleasure and watching you writhe under his tongue, so he’s always eager to repay the favor.

When you give him a blowjob, Kinich struggles to keep his voice down. His eyes flutter closed and he places a hand on your head, not pushing or pulling but just resting it there to ground himself. The sight of his cock disappearing in your mouth is intense for him, and as he approaches orgasm, Kinich shallowly thrusts into your mouth, careful to not choke you but unable to stop himself from wanting more. Whether you swallow his cum or let him paint your skin in it doesn’t matter—either outcome is hot to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Kinich’s pace depends on what you want. He usually goes for a moderate pace, keeping his thrusts consistent and angled just right to hit those sweet spots inside you. However, he can go slow and gentle if you’re making love, or faster and rougher if you’re in the mood for a good fuck. Even if he goes rougher, Kinich is still mindful of your comfort and keeps strict control of his thrusts so as to not hurt you. His main goal is for you to enjoy sex with him. Getting himself off is secondary.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kinich doesn’t mind quickies. Sometimes, when he or you are in the mood but don’t have enough time to indulge in long foreplay, he goes for quickies. Ajaw is usually the main reason for you guys having quickies, mostly because you want to squeeze in some intimate time before the arrogant saurian inevitably interrupts you.

Kinich finds it a hassle to work around Ajaw’s presence, so he prefers to send the dragonlord out on an errand or lock him away so you won’t be disturbed. To Kinich’s dismay, Ajaw quickly figures out that whenever he gets promptly locked or sent out on a long errand whenever you’re around, this usually means his servant is about to get busy with you. However, for once, Ajaw doesn’t object. He already had the misfortune of accidentally walking in on you getting frisky with Kinich when the hunter forgot to lock him away, and the awful memory is seared into the poor saurian’s brain. One time was too many, and he’d rather never see that again. Nevertheless, when he returns to Kinich’s side, Ajaw makes sure to thoroughly poke fun at the hunter and make his disgust for your sexual activities known.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Kinich is willing to take risks, especially for you. Generally, he’s open to trying almost anything once but only if you’re also on board with experimenting. Due to his cautious nature, Kinich will want to research whatever new kinks you want to try so he knows how to indulge in them safely, especially if one of you hasn’t tried these kinks before. He's open to taking risks but he's not reckless.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Kinich’s commissions and extreme sports hobby require him to have good endurance, so he has very good stamina. He almost always outlasts you in bed. He can easily go for three rounds, maybe a couple more if he’s willing to push himself and takes appropriate breaks, though three is already more than enough to satisfy his sexual cravings.

How many rounds you go for usually depends on you. If you can’t keep up with his stamina, then Kinich is perfectly content to go for 1-2 rounds (as mentioned, it’s the perfect amount for him). However, if your sexual appetite is big, Kinich can go for more rounds, though he would switch it up with oral or fingering for variety and to give himself a break.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Kinich doesn’t own any sex toys. He doesn’t need them to get off and thus sees no point in getting any. If you have toys you like using or want to try with him, then Kinich will learn how to operate them to please you. He typically likes sex without toys but admits they’re good for spicing up your sex life now and then.

He won’t object if you want to use toys on him even though they’re not as gratifying for him as your direct touch, but only if you know what you’re doing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually, Kinich doesn’t tease you during sex. He takes a straightforward approach to life and likes to do things efficiently, and pleasing you is no different. However, Kinich can be playful when the mood strikes, and this results in him teasing you by lightly stimulating your sensitive spots, such as lightly flicking your nipples, rubbing your clit, or sucking on a delicate patch of skin on your neck just to watch you react to his touch with a small, amused smirk on his lips. He’s got a smart mouth, so he might also verbally tease you by pointing out how eager you seem for his touch, but he keeps the teasing lighthearted and affectionate.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Kinich naturally tries to keep his voice down when engaging in sexual activities. His most common sounds are ragged breaths, moans, and sighs of pleasure. His moans are soft, low, and infrequent, mostly because he muffles them by sucking hickeys into your neck or kissing you. He’s loudest when nearing orgasm, oftentimes uttering your name right as he hits his peak.

He doesn’t talk much during sex, but he does give you heartfelt compliments and tells you he loves you as a way of expressing his gratitude for all the love and trust you give him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

TW: Menstruation, mentions of blood, period sex

When Kinich found out about your painful menstrual cramps, he took to researching various methods he could use to help you deal with them because he doesn’t like seeing you in pain. Aside from common methods like heating pads, pain medicine, and warm baths, Kinich also read that orgasms can help alleviate cramping.

He proposes the idea of period sex, expressing his willingness to give you orgasms if it means bringing you relief. He understands if you aren’t comfortable with the idea and won’t pressure you into it, but his interest in doing this for you is genuine.

Kinich sees menstruation as a normal part of life and reassures you that there is no reason to feel self-conscious or ashamed of your body’s natural response. Blood doesn’t make him squeamish, so he has no reservations about getting any of yours on himself. If it helps you feel better, then he’s willing to get messy.

If you agree to his proposition, Kinich will take great measures to ensure your comfort. He understands that your abdomen must be tender, so he keeps all his touches slow and gentle to avoid worsening your cramps. He lets you decide if you’re more comfortable with him using his penis or fingers—either one is fine with him. If you choose fingers, then he rubs your clit in slow circles and gently thrusts his fingers into you, starting with one and then moving on to two until he makes you cum.

If you prefer his cock, then Kinich will be careful and gentle with his thrusts, keeping them slow and shallow until you’re comfortable with taking more. He showers you with a lot of kisses and affectionate caresses to keep you relaxed and maximize your enjoyment of the experience. During such moments, Kinich focuses more on your comfort and enjoyment than his own pleasure because the experience is mainly about you.

He feels a sense of accomplishment when his efforts pay off in your orgasm and you confirm that it did indeed help alleviate your pain. Kinich volunteers to have menstrual sex with you each month if it’s something that interests you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

11cm (4.3 inch) in length and 10cm (3.9 inch) in girth with a dark red tip and a prominent vein underneath.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Kinich’s sexual appetite isn’t big, so having sex once or twice a week is enough for him. Because his work sometimes forces him to leave his tribe for days at a time, opportunities to make love are not as frequent as you might hope, but Kinich still tries to make time for it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kinich doesn’t fall asleep immediately after intercourse unless he’s tired. He likes to stay up and hold you, basking in the afterglow and letting you know that he really enjoyed this moment. He’s not one for idle chatter, but he does use this opportunity to talk about your plans for tomorrow, maybe plan a small date, or invite you to a special place he discovered while running an errand as a courier.

You almost always fall asleep before him (he gives you quite a workout) and he observes the way your expression relaxes as you drift off with a small smile on his face. Kinich ensures you’re properly tucked in before draping an arm around you and joining you in sleep, or quietly getting out of bed to take care of unfinished work. He always makes sure you’re comfortable before leaving, though.

[deathbxnny]

HEHEHEHEH HELLO AGAIN BXXNY!!!

I am so obsessed with this man even if he doesn't do big pp DMG and I have no idea how to use him he's still on my team (with Yelan Klee and Zhongli)

ANYWAYS!! Kinich with a girlfriend that's like his childhood best friend, both pretty obsessed with each other tbh, but Ajaw is a little shit that loves making Kinich's life hell, so he acts all sweet with reader, always crying crocodile tears to her and just sucking up to her, basking in all the attention and cuddles she gives him while making sure to paint Kinich in a bad light.

Of course reader knows Ajaw's little plan... but she does love seeing Kinich so frustrated, so she always agrees with Ajaw... I'll leave the rest to you!

(I'm so happy to get this other idea out you have no idea)

Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. | Kinich x Fem!Reader feat. Ajaw

I want to kiss your brain, dear moot!! Your idea is so good, I could eat it for dinner rn!!<33

Content: Jealous Kinich, established relationship, Ajaw being a menace as usual, fluff, kinda unserious, sfw

Reader is asked to be fem/afab!

((Not proofread))

Ajaw was always determined to make Kinich's life a living hell out pure of spite. Nothing else brought him so much joy, and therefore, he used all his free times to scheme and plan his next evil shenanigans against him. It wasn't an easy thing to do by no means, though, since the man was often unbothered and indifferent by his presence, going so far as to banish the dragon lord at times to get rid of him momentarily.

But all of his hard work became a lot lighter when you and Kinich finally became a couple after years of being "just friends". The dragon lord saw his golden opportunity for the perfect revenge, one he achieved through your kind, unsuspecting heart and kindness towards him.

To you, Ajaw could do no wrong. No matter what it was, you often took his side when he whined and gave you those perfectly teary eyes whilst accusing Kinich of being mean to HIM. That produced much better results than anything the dragon lord could've ever planned, and it brought him indescribable joy to see his dear companions visible annoyance.

Now, you ofcourse were very much aware of Ajaw's silly, evil plans, but seeing your boyfriend so easily angered and jealous at the attention you gave the menace of a creature he was stuck with, was unfortunately too cute to pass up. Of course, you'd make it up to him with gentle kisses and cuddle sessions... but until then, you played along.

Whenever Ajaw came flying to you out of "fear", after Kinich "threatened" to put him in time-out again, you'd coo at his plight and pat him on the head, a playful and sympathetic pout in your lips that ticked your boyfriend off.

At times, he'd even interrupt your time together during dates, demanding attention in the most dramatic ways possible, knowing how jealous it made the man who was very much obsessed with you. He could never be angry at you, but Ajaw was not spared from his wrath. He tried to stay calm and remind himself that it was all just to get a reaction out of him, but it was hard when he was close to reaching over and strangling him.

You eventually had to stop your games to calm him down and remind him that it was all indeed just playful banter... especially after Ajaw received the darkest glare known to man, when he attempted to ruin another date with you.

The allmighty dragon lord miraculously stopped his plans for a while, mainly because he suddenly didn't feel like facing your loving boyfriend's wrath after all...

[tarotwithavi]

Which Disney princess would you be and why?

Timeless reading

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest!

Masterlist 🍒 Extended masterlist

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I am currently running short on funds and am unable to pay my rent, I would really appreciate some help 🙏🏻

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT 🫶🏻💞

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

If you were to embody a Disney princess, you'd likely resonate deeply with Mulan and Moana.

Starting with Mulan, there’s a natural connection here due to your deep respect and love for your family and culture. Just like Mulan, you feel a strong responsibility to protect and honor your family. This could mean taking on the role of looking after your father, possibly even working with him or supporting his business. You don’t see these responsibilities as burdens, but rather as an honor, much like Mulan stepping up to protect her father and family when they needed her the most. You have that same fire within you—a drive that makes you stand up for the people you care about.

Your path, like Moana’s, is not confined by societal expectations. You’re someone who values independence and is ready to challenge the limits of what others think you should be or do. You’re always learning, always growing, and you’re not content with just “following the rules.” You want to make your own path, just as Moana did when she set out on her journey across the ocean, even though her entire village expected her to stay put. There's a deep explorer within you, someone who wants to experience life beyond traditional boundaries and limitations.

One thing that truly defines you is your straightforwardness. You’re not one to dance around the point you say what you mean, directly and with confidence. You may even have a sharp or deep voice that demands respect and conveys authority. People know where they stand with you, and that honesty is something that draws others to you and gains their respect.

Your courageous nature shines through in every part of your life. You’re not afraid to take the lead, to stand up for what’s right, and to go after your goals no matter how long it may take. In many ways, you have a warrior spirit; you’re determined, ambitious, and won’t settle for anything less than what you’ve dreamed of achieving. Like Mulan on the battlefield and Moana on her journey across the sea, you face challenges head-on, fully committed to coming out victorious.

This fierce independence is a core part of who you are, and it shows in your reluctance to rely on others for help. You’ve learned, maybe from a young age, to take responsibility for your own life and decisions. It’s possible you’ve had significant responsibilities from a young age, perhaps as the eldest child or someone others depended on, which has made you resourceful and strong. Now, you’re in a place where you’re even more eager to carve your own path and live life on your terms.

Curiosity and intelligence are two of your standout traits. You’re someone who questions everything, eager to understand the world in a deep way, and you don’t just accept things at face value. This makes you a natural explorer, someone constantly learning and searching for meaning, whether it’s through intellectual pursuits, travel, or self-discovery. You might have a fire or air sign as your Sun, Moon, or Rising.

Random things that may resonate : maroon red, eldest daughter, pretty handsome, short or medium height, group of 3 friends, novels/books, glasses, round eyes, parrot, hats.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

If you were to embody a Disney princess, Rapunzel would be a perfect match for you. There’s something about your life journey that aligns with hers a sense of yearning for freedom, adventure, and the desire to find something truly meaningful.

From a young age, you may have felt like you were held back, perhaps by the restrictions of family or the walls of your own home. Like Rapunzel, you sensed that there was a big, exciting world beyond the limits of your surroundings, but you might not have been allowed to step out and explore on your own. It’s possible that you had strict parents or a family that wanted to keep you close and safe, but this may have also made you feel confined. You’ve always known there’s more to life and have longed for the chance to experience it firsthand.

You have many dreams and aspirations, which fuels your journey to find something truly meaningful. Some of you may be in search of your life purpose or even a career that will make you feel alive and fulfilled. There’s a deep sense within you that you’re meant for greatness, but at times, you may feel restricted by family expectations or responsibilities. This drive for something greater keeps pushing you forward, even when it feels challenging to break free from those limitations.

Just as Rapunzel treasured her hair, it seems that you also hold a deep connection to yours. Whether it’s long, well-cared-for, or something you’re known for, your hair might even reflect how you’re feeling. In times of transformation or emotional shifts, you might experiment with your hair, changing it up to mark a new beginning. It’s almost as if your hair is a symbol of your personal growth, a reflection of your resilience, and the beauty that lies within you.

You may feel a bit of a distance in your relationship with your parents or family. It’s not that there’s a lack of love; rather, there may be an invisible barrier that makes true connection challenging. Like Rapunzel, you might feel like you’re waiting for the day when you can break free of these unseen walls and find that sense of freedom and individuality. This may be why you’re drawn to finding your own path, something that defines you and allows you to be yourself without restrictions.

Creativity and spontaneity are other traits that connect you to Rapunzel. You have a spark of imagination and a playful side, someone who can turn any situation into an adventure. Whether it’s through art, ideas, or even just the way you approach life, you know how to make things vibrant and alive. This ability to bring color and joy into the world is something that makes you truly special. Your story is one of discovering yourself, breaking free from constraints, and finding a purpose that fills you with joy. Like Rapunzel, you’re on a journey to step into the world and make it your own, letting nothing hold you back. You have the courage, the creativity, and the strength to shine, and once you step out into your own light, there’s no limit to the magic you’ll create.

Random messages that may resonate: water sign, arts or art major, curly hair, autumn, Taurus, white and red dresses, blindfolded, moving away, knight in shining Armor.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

Like Belle, you are someone who values knowledge and understanding. You have a deep appreciation for learning and personal growth, which drives you to explore new ideas and experiences. Just as Belle is often found with her nose in a book, you, too, are likely someone who seeks wisdom and insight, eager to expand your horizons. This thirst for knowledge not only enriches your life but also sets you apart from those around you, much like Belle’s unique perspective in her village.

Your ability to work well with others suggests that you have a collaborative spirit. You understand the importance of teamwork and the power of building relationships. Whether it's through family, friends, or colleagues, you recognize that great things can be achieved when people come together. Just as Belle works with the enchanted objects in the castle, you thrive in environments where you can connect and collaborate, bringing your talents to the table to create something beautiful and meaningful.

However, your journey also includes a sense of transition and growth. You might have experienced significant changes in your life, moving away from familiar surroundings or letting go of old beliefs that no longer serve you. This willingness to embrace change is a sign of your strength. Much like Belle leaving her home for the Beast’s castle, you are open to new experiences that lead to personal transformation.

You possess a nurturing quality, reflecting the warmth and care that Belle shows to those she loves. You likely have a deep sense of empathy, wanting to uplift and support others. This makes you a source of comfort for those around you, and people naturally gravitate toward your kind heart. Just as Belle helps the Beast see the beauty within himself, you have a way of bringing out the best in others, showing them that they are worthy of love and respect.

At the same time, you may find yourself in moments of solitude or deep reflection. Just as Belle often finds solace in her own thoughts, you may cherish your alone time, using it as a way to gain insight into yourself and the world around you. This introspective side allows you to process your experiences, helping you grow into a more well-rounded individual. It’s during these quiet moments that you gain clarity and strengthen your inner resolve.

Your willingness to embrace transformation indicates that you’re not afraid to face challenges head-on. Just as Belle navigates the complexities of her relationship with the Beast, you have the courage to confront difficult situations and seek growth through them. You understand that change can be uncomfortable, but it is often necessary for evolution. This resilience speaks volumes about your character.

Family and legacy are also important themes in your life. Just as Belle values her relationship with her father, you may find that family plays a significant role in shaping who you are. You likely cherish the bonds you have with loved ones and aspire to build a life filled with love and stability. Your dedication to those you care about reflects a desire for lasting connections, much like the legacy that Belle seeks to create in her own life.

However, your journey isn’t without its challenges. Like Belle, who faces conflicts with both societal expectations and personal struggles, you might encounter obstacles that test your determination. You may find yourself in situations where you need to stand your ground and assert your beliefs, navigating conflicts with grace and understanding. Your ability to confront these struggles with poise sets you apart and showcases your inner strength.

Random things that may resonate : ponds/lakes, leadership qualities, physically attractive, lonely, transformative, fever or headaches, competition.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: although it wasn’t in the way that he planned, zhongli finally proposes to you ♡

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Zhongli x F!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k | masterlist | byf/dni

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fluff, toothrotting fluff, established relationship, he calls you ‘my love’, ‘dearest’, you’re aware of him being the former archon, set at that floating island in the sky, you guys are so so in love lalalala

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

this piece is part of a flufftober event by spookuna ♡

For a moment, Zhongli couldn’t believe the words that left his lips. It had slipped out so naturally, so casually, as if he were merely asking about the weather. The question always lingered within him, much like the ring that waited patiently in his pocket whenever he decided the time wasn’t quite right.

Zhongli, a man of tradition, had always envisioned asking you at an appointed hour, at an appointed place, where the occasion would be nothing short of extraordinary.

Yet, here it was, out in the open, spoken with such casualness that betrayed its significance.

A gentle breeze swept across the landscape, nudging the summer clouds into a lazy drift. It was a cozy day for Liyue and as the sun made its descent below the horizon, the sky transformed into a fiery shade of orange.

High above Teyvat, hidden amidst the clouds, two pairs of legs dangled over a small floating island. They belonged to you and the former Archon, who often sought refuge in this corner of Liyue. Your fingers were intertwined with his as you gazed over the endless expanse. Finally free of prying eyes and the demands of everyday life, you sighed.

“Isn’t Liyue extra beautiful today, Zhongli?”

“It is, indeed,” he hummed, yet his eyes were not on the fading day. His gaze was fixed solely on you who sat beside him so calm and content, that he almost felt a pang of loss when you let go of his hand to rest your chin in your palm.

A small smile formed at the corners of your lips when his response reached your ears but your attention remained at the world below.

“I think you would appreciate its beauty more if you actually looked, you fool,” you replied, chuckling as you turned his face toward the dotted treetops and silhouettes of tiny homes.

Zhongli feigned a tired sigh, “No, I’m very aware of Liyue’s grace. I just prefer what’s in front of me, my love.”

You nudged him playfully, your legs swinging carelessly in the air. If there was a part of you that was afraid of heights, it vanished entirely in his presence.

“I’m serious,” He said, sliding an arm around your waist as a subtle invitation for you to relax your head on his shoulders.

He was serious though.

Being immortal— he had learned— was both a gift and a curse. It granted him both solitude and loneliness. He watched Liyue grow through centuries as if it were his very child and only two years ago, you had marched into his life like a reminder that love had not forgotten him. Beyond even the gift of immortality, you gave him a reason to cherish the present. So yes, he was utterly serious about choosing you above all else.

Unaware of his contemplation, you decided to tease him. “So you’re telling me you’re growing tired of Liyue?” You knew he wasn’t but what was the point of being tough and impenetrable if you couldn’t poke a bit of fun?

“How could I?” he shook his head. “Liyue is forever new and beautiful. You, however, are just a terrible distraction.”

You both laughed but there was weight to his words. Selfishly, he was thankful for not being the Archon anymore because, by Celestia above, you would have distracted him more than he dared to admit from his duties.

Then you remembered something.

“Oh, right!” You sat up and a soft smile played on your lips when you began taking out a book from your travel bag. The stiff cover and imperfect stitching suggested to him that you had made it yourself.

“I have something to show you.” You opened to the first page and there was a photo of you two from one of your travels. “Remember this?”

He chuckled, the memory still vivid in his head, “Do you know who you’re speaking to?” Zhongli took the book from you, studying it before flipping to the next page and then the next.

“I can see that you’ve put the photos in order… How thoughtful.”

You nodded.

Then he stopped at a certain picture, “Ah, our first Lantern Rite together— that was a pleasant night. You were so enchanted by those noodles from that vendor, that you insisted on having them for dinner all week.”

“And for some reason, my hunger has not yet been quelled, Zhongli,” you teased with another nudge.

“Soon, soon. I promise,” he replied with a sly grin only reserved for you.

“You know,” you began, “I’d like to travel beyond Liyue someday.”

“Where would you go?” he raised a brow at the sudden statement.

You hummed, thinking for a moment and then you pointed at the patch of emerald forestry barely visible through the billowing clouds, “Sumeru— the jungles there are supposed to be incredible. Or perhaps Inazuma. The cherry blossoms there are breathtaking,” turning more to the south as you said the latter.

As always, Zhongli listened while you rambled on about your future adventures.

“...We could go anywhere, do anything,” You suggested at the end of your little spiel.

“We can plan something,” he agreed.

“Oh, it’d be magical,” your heart swelled at the idea, “Maybe we could even reach Fontaine and have a picnic by their waters.”

You nearly gasped at how remarkable your idea was, “Oh my, Zhongli. Can you imagine sitting under the sun? With a book? My bones are getting all relaxed just thinking about—”

“Dearest?” Zhongli gently interrupted.

“Yes?” You replied, slightly worried about talking too much.

“Do you suppose we could keep doing this?”

“This?” You looked around the floating island, admittedly a little bewildered, “As in, coming here? Why would we ever stop?”

“No, no. I’m referring to us, just being together wherever we go. It doesn’t matter to me where we are.”

“Zhongli…”

“Do you think we could continue this… journey together?”

The question hung in the air, simple yet profound.

At this point, you turned fully to him, gaze softening as you met his amber eyes. They were wise and longing and wonderfully human.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Any form of hesitation died in his throat as he fiddled with his pocket and presented a ring to you. The world faded into a soft blur as he did.

“Then do you suppose you could marry me?”

Nothing but your breath escaped your lips. You were momentarily speechless. Sure, Zhongli had been oddly quiet but today was meant to be just another day. Now, your reality as you knew it became a distant memory.

He swallowed hard as he held the ring. It looked ancient but well-preserved, like a piece of fine craftsmanship. The gold band had delicate carvings unfamiliar to you and the stone was cut in such a way that it caught and refracted the last rays of sunlight as if it were alive. Maybe it was the remnants of divinity residing in him, but it radiated a soothing warmth in his hand. How would anyone believe that a humble consultant at the Wangsheng funeral parlour proposed to you with this?

Your chest began to bubble with emotion and you wanted to scream.

“Y-You want to marry me?” Your voice caught in your throat.

You could feel yourself getting hot, the reality of him wanting to be with you forever slowly crept up on you.

“Yes, I simply want to enjoy life with you. But if it takes a contract to call you my wife then of all the contracts I’ve ever woven, this one will remain my final and most sacred.”

He looked at you with a reverent smile.

“So what do you say?”

You pulled him into a tight embrace, feeling his words settle over you. In front of you wasn’t just the God of Contracts; he was the man who captured your heart. For every lingering kiss, every fulfilled promise, every time he opened you up to a new world of knowledge even when you thought you saw it all, and for every time he lent an ear and believed in your dreams— you knew what your answer would be.

“Yes. Yes!” The second time sounded louder than the last. Your voice was full of so much tenderness and conviction. You couldn’t stop saying it. “Yes, a thousand times, yes.” If you told the version of yourself from many years ago that you would be this important to someone, you would laugh.

“Thank you,” he said in the most sincere voice you’ve ever heard. “You have made me the happiest I’ve felt in a long time.”

Zhongli slid the ring onto your finger before cupping your face. You could feel the trail of kisses he was leaving on your forehead, then down your cheeks, and finally they found home between the plush of your lips— his kisses were so warm and gentle that it was hard to believe this was the same God people described as having a heart of stone.

Everything around you seemed to pause. The sun had almost fully set and the sky was now painted with the first hint of evening stars. With you in his arms, he wondered if this sense of peace came from being on this island or from the fact that he could now soon call you his wife.

Wife… he repeated in his head. His wife… it sounded just right.

A crisp breeze had settled between the two of you, perhaps for the better, to calm your burning hearts. After finally breaking away from him, you were the first to speak.

“So, what do we do now?”

Zhongli chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair, “We continue, just as we always have… However, I hope you don’t mind me being a little more permanent to you now.”

“Permanent, huh?” You smiled, feeling a warmth coursing through you that had nothing to do with the summer air. “I like the sound of that.”

Eventually, Zhongli rose, helping you to your feet. He offered you his arm with a familiar gentlemanly gesture, “It’s getting a little dark. Shall we head back, my love”

“Mmm,” You slipped into his grasp, “Let’s go home.”

Home. The meaning was always tied to Liyue, by the earth and stone he had shaped for thousands of years. But now that's changed.

No matter where the world took him, as long as he faced it side-by-side with you, he knew that home would be wherever you were. Seeing you was like returning to a place he never truly left. Lost in thought, his thumb brushed gently over the ring he had just placed on your finger.

Home.

Zhongli liked the sound of that.

For the first time in his long life, the word felt complete.

a/n: i actually wrote this for an oc a while back, but i’m so glad i get to share this with people because i was so smitten at the time of writing it and reading this brings back all those feelings

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

all dividers are from @/chachachannah

[munsonsmixtapes]

Billy Still Doesn't Know

virgin!eddie x experienced!reader

summary: you and Eddie make up after that disasterous night and very quickly become friends with benefits. But problems arise when you starts to have feelings for the metal head. Billy quickly gets winds of your arrangement and decides to call the both of you out at Nancy's party.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) oral (m receiving) sub!eddie, dom!reader, exhibitionism, anal, public sex, Billy just generally being a dick and abusive, but that's not new, use of nicknames (baby, good boy, honeybee) hurt/comfort, mild violence, mention of an abortion, mention of reader's rough home life (verbal abuse)

100% inspired by the song “Scotty Doesn’t Know” by Lustra!

part one

You stare at the ceiling as you try to fall asleep, the events of the night running through your head on a continuous loop. Guilt is causing a pit in your stomach to form, bile rising in your throat as the look on Eddie’s face stays in your mind, making you feel even worse. It wasn’t his fault. He was trying to do what he had thought you had liked and you freaked out. You panicked.

No one had ever bothered to care about things like that when it came to you so when someone finally did, it felt weird. Foreign. Eddie wasn't the problem, that much you were sure of. It was all you. Letting Billy into your life had created so many problems for you, especially mentally so it made hanging out with anyone normal difficult.

You hadn't actually wanted to leave, but it was a trauma response, something you always did with Billy so it was just second nature when anything went wrong. And unlike Billy, Eddie just let you go. Why, though? Why didn't he chase after you? Why didn't he demand you to stay like Billy would have?

Because Eddie wasn't Billy. Not in the slightest. He let you go because he felt like he was the right thing to do and didn't want to cross your boundaries. You thought a part of you knew that but you still wished he had asked you to stay.

You wanted him to get on his knees, holding your hands in his as he pleaded, begging for you to stay the night. And he would have invited you into his room where the two of you would have cuddled in his bed for the rest of the night.

Now you were starting to feel like a bitch for how things had ended. Because what had Eddie done except be an absolute gentleman? And now you had hurt him so badly that he hadn't even called you before bed like he always did. 

Your seat in the pre-calculus class that you share with Eddie is empty when he walks into first period. He’s internally panicking, but he plays it off as he sits in his assigned seat behind yours, pulling out the things he needs for the class, feeling his heart sink as he realizes that the events of the night before were so bad that he had made you not want to come to school. 

And he feels horrible, that feeling in his gut gnawing, eating at him, the clenching feeling getting even tighter, almost as if a boa constrictor had been wrapping around his midsection. He swears he’s going to throw up, putting his hand over his mouth to try to hold it back, but then you walk into the room, looking a little worse for wear with your head down as you hurry to your seat before Ms. O'donnell started the class. 

Eddie wasn’t paying attention to her, though, and neither were you. And you were clearly out of it because you hadn’t even noticed that he was staring at you, leaning over ever so slightly to the right so he could see your face. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Munson,” he hears Ms. O’Donnell’s voice, and immediately turns in her direction, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s about to fall out of his chair. “Is my lesson boring you? Because clearly you seem to be very interested in Miss l/n.” 

“No ma’am,” he shakes his head vigorously and doesn’t miss the way you slide down in your chair, pulling the hood of your hoodie up over your head in embarrassment. “Please, continue.”

Miss O’Donnell continues the lesson and neither you nor Eddie are paying her any attention. You both are in your own little worlds, still thinking about the night before. And if you’re being honest, you kind of hate how he’s acting like his usual self this morning. 

You were half expecting him to apologize even though you know you don’t deserve it. What does he have to apologize for anyway? Being a total sweetheart? If anyone should be apologizing, it’s you. And there’s no way you’re going to do that because vulnerability terrifies you. 

And you absolutely hate confrontation, hating having to put your feelings out there when you have a problem. You can still see your father yelling at you when you politely asked him to turn the TV volume down so you could sleep. You know that’s the reason why you are the way that you are. And hanging around Billy only made it worse, the similarities between the two men not lost on you.

And you know Eddie well enough to know that all he wants to do is put it all in the past. That’s what he’s done with the few spats that you’ve had and know that this isn’t any different. But he’s waiting for you to make the first move like he always does, because that’s just who he is. Eddie respects your boundaries and never wants to push, so that’s why this is getting to you. 

Well, that and you’re so used to Billy being the one to blame that you want to pass it off to Eddie to make yourself feel better. Because if you don’t accept the blame then it’s not your fault and then you don’t have to carry your guilt around because let’s be honest, you have more than enough of that already. 

But what you don’t know is that Eddie fully believes that he’s to blame, that he had pushed you too far. That you have every right to be mad at him for what he’s done. He just wants to apologize and for the two of you to be friends again, but he’s afraid that this isn’t something he can make up for with a song. 

So he spends the entirety of first period trying to wrack his brain for some way to make it up to you even though he doesn’t think any of it will be good enough. And just when he thinks he has something, the bell rings and you rush out of class, moving too fast for him to even catch up.

He gets out the door and you’re already halfway down the hallway, hurrying to your next class that’s on the other side of the school. He won’t have time to catch up with you and go to his own class, so he decides he’ll just talk to you at lunch. 

But you don’t sit with him. In fact, you’re not even in the cafeteria. He knows because he’s checking every five minutes, his eyes darting between all the doors and the lunch line, just to make sure he hasn’t missed you. He knows how crazy he looks, but everyone already thinks he is so that doesn’t bother him. All he cares about is finding you and telling you how sorry he is about last night. 

You’re not in the cafeteria because you’re in the newsroom with Robin and Nancy. You owe it to yourself to have a little girl time and forget about all the boy drama that’s been surrounding you for quite some time. You’ve only recently gotten close to them and appreciated that they let you into their group no question. 

They had been nothing but nice to you despite your reputation as a “mean girl” as that hadn’t been who you really were. It was just a facade that you had put on to push people out, and clearly it hadn’t worked as well as you had hoped.

They’d been for you when you complained about Billy and now they were trying to help you out with your situation with Eddie. They know how important he is to you and the both of you have become such important parts of the friend group and they hate to see either of you so upset, especially when it comes to being upset in regards to each other. 

You didn’t give them all the details of what happened because you felt like it was giving too much information, but you definitely alluded to what had happened and how you had left and how horrible you felt about hurting Eddie and that you were afraid that he was mad at you. 

“You know that Eddie is way too easy going to be mad at you,” Nancy told you as she rested her hand on top of yours. “And neither of you did anything wrong anyway. It’s all just a big misunderstanding. I’m sure if you talk to him about it and explain where you’re coming from, this whole mess will be fixed.”

You can always count on Nancy to give you good advice. You know she’s right, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to listen. You’re just going to thank her and then continue to avoid Eddie like the plague for the rest of the school year until the both of you graduate. It’s what’s for the best, you think, deciding that it just wasn’t meant to be. 

“I don’t know why you bother, Nanc,” Robin rolls her eyes. “We all know she’s not going to listen to you and continue to ignore Eddie, running back to Billy as if last night never happened.” 

You’ve always hated how well Robin can read you. Because she’s exactly right. Well, except for going back to Billy. You’ve been done with him for a while and now you’re finally going to rip off the band aid after school. 

“No,” you deny. “I’m going to break things off with him after school.”

“What about Eddie?” God, you’re tired of talking about him. You were only doing so because they had brought him up. You just wanted to forget about him even though it was impossible for you to do so. The metal head had taken up your thoughts every single second of every day since you had started hanging out. So much so that you had even started imagining his face when Billy was fucking you, always so close to moaning his name. And now you’ve pushed him away.

“What about Eddie, Nancy? He doesn’t want to talk to me.” You’re shrinking into yourself and you know that you sound like a broken record, but you can’t help it. 

“Alright,” Robin sighs, scooting her chair close to yours, looking you dead in the eyes, her own forming into a glare. “Since no one’s going to be honest with you, I will.”

“Go ahead,” you tell her, trying to show that you can handle it, but deep down, you’re terrified that she’s going to say something way out of pocket. That you’re going to have to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and cry afterwards. 

“You left last night because people always leave you so you wanted a head start. You know Eddie won’t do that and that’s why you’re scared. Because he’s seen all your flaws and still wants to hang out with you. You’re not used to that.”

She’s right and your eyes widen as she speaks, realizing how well she had hit the nail on the head. You scoot out of your seat and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you just as the bell rings, signaling the end of class. 

Anger courses through you as you stomp to your locker at the end of the day. You’re supposed to catch a ride home with Nancy and Robin since Eddie’s usually your ride, but you decide to just take the bus since you don’t have your other options. 

Well, you could if you stopped being so stubborn and actually talked about your feelings, but you can’t so you won’t. You want to be alone anyway, to drown your sorrows in a gallon of ice cream while you finally let yourself cry about everything. 

You get to your locker as the doors at the end of the school burst open. You turn to see who it is and immediately bury your face into your locker, the door hiding your face as you do so. Go, could this day get any worse?

You hear Billy before you see him, his boots stomping down the hallway, getting closer and closer to you and you want nothing more than for the floor to swallow you whole. You know why he’s there and you really want to put off speaking to him. You’ve had far too much drama for the day and just want to go home. 

“Baby,” he says with a smile and the nickname makes your skin crawl. You continue to grab your things from your locker and stuff them into your backpack as if he’s not there. And that pisses Billy off. He hates when you act like he doesn’t matter, especially when he’s been so generous as to give you his cock almost every night. You looking at him is the least he deserves. 

“You didn’t call me after last night.” He moves around the door to stand behind you, his cock rubbing against your ass. That would normally work on you, but not today, not anymore. You’re done with him and need to finally tell him the truth. You can’t keep going back to him. He’s not good for you, but you’ve gotten addicted to the way he makes you feel. And once the high wears off, you’re left feeling gross and used and you don’t want to feel like that anymore.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Billy,” you respond and his hand slams against the locker, causing it to close, the rate at which it slams closed causing a breeze to move across your face. You pull your hand away in the knick of time and before you can get away, Billy grabs onto your face, squeezing your cheeks in his hand. 

“You look at me when I’m talking to you, bitch,” he commands and you wince at the pain that he’s causing. You really wish that more people were around to witness what was happening, but the halls are empty since it’s the end of the day.

“Billy,” you say firmly, trying to get out of his grasp, but he just squeezes harder, that fire from yesterday filling his eyes again. “Let go.”

“No,” he spits. “You’re going to listen.” He steps closer so his face is only inches from yours and you’re more annoyed with him than anything. He doesn’t scare you anymore and you’re going to stand up to him for once and for all.

“No,” you finally push him off you.-

Eddie hurries down the hallway to the room where he hosts Hellfire, knowing that he’s last, but he’s relieved when no one’s waiting outside the door. Miss O’Donnell had found him after the bell had rung and reminded him that he was to report to her class after school the next day for tutoring. He’s so close to getting a passing grade, all he needs is to pass the test on Friday and he’s golden. 

He’s smiling to himself about the whole thing when he turns to see that you’re talking to Billy. The knife twists and now he’s sick to his stomach as he watches the whole thing. It looks like you’re arguing. And he’s invested as soon as he sees you throw a key onto the floor and it lands right at Billy’s feet. Billy picks it up and if looks could kill, you’d be dead. 

He can’t hear your conversation, but he just knows it’s ugly by the body language. He wants to help, take a punch for you to show you how much he cares for you, but he won’t. He doesn’t have the chance to because Dustin, Mike, and Lucas are standing behind him, waiting to be let inside. 

 “What is this?” Billy asks He knows what it is, but he wants you to say it. He wants to hear the words come from your mouth, because as soon as you say them, he’s not going to hook up with you anymore. The door will be closed and he’s gonna move another girl up to the list to take your coveted spot as his number three. 

“You know what it is,” you say as you cross your arms over your chest. His blood is boiling now as he realizes what it means. This is so embarrassing to him. He’s always the one who cuts ties, not the other way around. He thought that you loved. That’s why he kept you around. You were just someone to boost his ego and do whatever he asked because you worshiped the ground he walked on. 

He’s never loved you, he’s never loved anyone and he’s always made sure to remind you of that when you’ve done something nice for him, like doing the dishes when you knew it was his night to do so and he had forgotten, so focused on taking you to bed. 

He owes you nothing and supposes that you owe him nothing in return, because deep down, this whole thing is strictly transactional. He knows that you can go fuck any guy he wants, but he’s nothing but a jealous man to his core so he’ll make sure he’s the only one who’s gotten inside you then turn right around and fuck some other girl within the same hour of having fucked you. 

Billy pockets the key then steps forward again, his eyes narrowing into slits as he looks you up and down one last time. He doesn’t like the look on your face. He would have thought you’d be crying, begging him to take you back, but you just look unbothered, almost relieved.

“This is your last chance, bitch,” he says, pointing his finger in your face and you just stare at him with a nod. He then pushes past you, storming towards the door in a fit of rage, the door slamming behind him as he flees the school, heading to his car to figure who he’s going to replace you.

You’re crying now and Eddie’s watching, completely distracted by what’s going on, everything he was thinking about entirely abandoned in his brain to make space for you just like always. You stand there as sobs rake through you and he wants nothing more than to take you into his arms while he strokes your hair and tells you that everything is going to be okay. 

“Eddie?” Dustin waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face, but he’s still dazed. He’s so focused on you that nothing else matters. Not even Hellfire, and the boys know just how important that is to him. 

To the boys’ surprise, he just utters the words “Hellfire’s canceled today,” and before they can even process what he’s said, he’s taking off down the hallway to catch up with you as you’re heading to the doors. But he’s able to stop you before you get there, skidding to a stop in front of you. 

Your sniffling stops as you look up at him, wiping away your tears as you take him in, his wide brown eyes and his mouth that’s slightly agape as he wracks his brain for something to say. He was so focused on preventing you from leaving that he wasn’t thinking about what he had to say. 

You both stare at each other, waiting to see who makes the first move, both of you nervous as shit to be the first one to speak, so you say nothing, the halls eerily quiet without all the chatter of students or lockers and doors closing. It’s just the two of you and the rising tension sitting there between you, begging to be acknowledged. 

You wouldn’t even know what to say. Your tongue is tied and the only thing you want to say you just can’t get yourself to. And to your surprise, Eddie is just as quiet. Just great, you’ve somehow managed to render the boy who never shuts the fuck up speechless.

He can tell that you’re thinking as he can practically see the gears turning. You’re always so in your head and he hates that for you. That you always overthink everything to the point where it all takes over your thoughts. He knows you’ve been thinking about what happened last night since it happened and he wants to get you out of your head. To make you understand that it’s not your fault. You had every right to act the way you did. He couldn’t be mad at you if he tried and he knows you know that so he has no idea why you’ve been avoiding like the goddamn plague. 

The words are on the tip of his tongue and you can see it. His mouth opens to speak, but for some reason, you don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to talk about it, you just want to tell him that the whole thing is in the past and you can move on like it didn’t happen. 

But when Eddie bites the bullet to speak, you just shake your head and hurry past him, but he catches your wrist before you can leave, pulling you to him as his hand rests on the small of your back. His hand reaches up to push some hair away from your face and then it cups your cheek, forcing you to look into his warm bambi eyes.

“Stay,” he whispers and all you can do is nod as your lips part. He licks his own and an “I’m sorry” tumbles from his lips. They’re said with purpose, emphasis on each word to show you how much he means them. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry Eddie. I fucked up and I-”

“Shh, honeybee,” he murmurs as his lips press to your forehead. “Just let me hold you, okay?”

All you can do is bury your face into his neck, tears streaming down your cheek once again. His hands move up and down your back in a comforting manner as he whispers nothing but soothing words in your ear, wanting to make sure that you know that happened last night is all in the past. He just wants to be there for you right now. 

You pull back to look at him and his features are nothing but soft, a small smile kicking up at the corner of his mouth as he wipes away your tears before pulling you in for another hug, squeezing you tight, deciding that he’d hold you in his arms for the rest of his life it was possible so you’d never get hurt again. 

“He’s such a fucking dick,” he mutters, his hands still rubbing lazy circles along your back. “God, I should have punched him when I had the chance.”

“Why would you do that?” You ask, your voice small. No one has ever done anything like that for you so you’re wondering why it’s Eddie who wants to be the one to defend your honor.

“Because I care about you,” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb moving back and forth along it gently. 

“You do?”

“Of course I do, honey.” He’s laughing now, but not at you. It’s in disbelief because he can’t truly can’t believe that you don’t know that he’d take a bullet for you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him and just the mere thought of possibly losing you last night made him sick to his stomach. He needs you to know how he feels right now so that you’ll stay. That you’ll know that he values what the two of you have, his friendship with you meaning more to him than you’d ever know. 

The nickname warms your heart and you’re so overwhelmed with feelings that you don’t fully realize what you’re doing until your lips are on his. Eddie gasps into your mouth but eventually melts into, his lips capturing yours and he’s somehow become a natural overnight, kissing you like he had been doing it all his life. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble over and over against his lips and he just shushes you, his lips slotting between yours again, his arms tightening around your waist to pull you even closer as yours wrap around his neck. He’s smiling against your lips because he really can’t believe he’s kissing you, let alone in the empty school hallway because most of the girls would laugh or even want to throw up at the mere thought of kissing him. But you’re not most girls, he supposes. 

The kiss progressively gets more heated as his tongue flicks into your mouth as your fingers find their way into his hair and then suddenly, you’re in the boys bathroom, backing yourselves into a stall. As soon as you lock the door, Eddie presses you against it and you love the way he’s taking charge, this newfound confidence he has. But you don’t want him to feel like he has to do this just to make up for last night.

You push him away and quickly speak to quiet all of the fears you can see swirling around in his head just by the look on his face. Your hands are on his face so he has no choice but to look at you and for a second, you swear he’s going to cry. 

“Let’s slow down, baby. Nice and slow, okay?” You ask and he nods. “Nope, none of that,” you shake your head. I’m not mad at you. I never was. It was all just some miscommunication.”

“Miscommunication?” He supposes that is the right word for the situation

“You think I’m mad at you and I think you’re mad at me, but that’s not the case. Let’s get something clear right now, alright?” You ask and he nods again. “I had a great time last night. Genuinely, and I’m not saying this just to make you feel better, alright? You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

His eyes widen at your confession as he wasn’t expecting it in the slightest. No fucking way. You have to be pulling his leg. But you wouldn’t lie to him, right? Especially not about that kind of thing. Holy shit, he’s really better than Billy? That man has slept with pretty much every woman in Hawkins and somehow Eddie has been the best you’ve ever had? If he was anything like Billy, he’d be rubbing it in his face. 

“Wow,” Eddie nods, that dopey grin making its way upon his face and you want more than to pinch his cheeks because of how adorable he looks. 

“It’s feeding your ego, isn’t it, baby?” You ask and his cheeks flush. In response, he just kisses you again, his tongue sliding into your mouth again as his hands slide up your shirt. You test the waters by wrapping your lips around it and giving it a rough suck and you feel your panties getting soaked as a whine escapes the back of his throat. God, what you would give to suck him off. 

You can feel his cock getting hard against your crotch and quickly pull away, bringing your bottom lip between your lips as your gaze slowly moves down to where his dick is tenting in his pants. 

“I can take care of that if you’d like,” you smile, putting on a flirtatious tone and Eddie nods enthusiastically.

“God, please,” he whines. You unzip his pants and pull them along with his underwear down to his ankles before getting on your knees. You look him in the eyes to make sure he’s okay and he nods enthusiastically. 

You then take him into your mouth and swirl your tongue around the head, hollowing your cheeks as you give him a rough suck. Eddie’s hands press against the side of the stall as he lets out a loud moan. 

Your hand wraps around the base as your other one grabs onto this thigh, holding him in place. His head leans back as his eyes shut tight, feeling pleasure that not even how penchant can give him. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he hisses as you take more of him into your mouth, letting your tongue moved up and down the shaft as you try to as much of him as you can. 

He’s already close, you can feel it. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whines as his knees start to buckle. You’re holding onto both of his legs now as you try to keep him steady. He hasn’t got that far to go as he needs his release. 

He’s practically screaming as he reaches his orgasm, cum leaking into your mouth as someone bursts through the bathroom door. You can hear chatter coming from outside the stall, but you continue as Eddie freezes, putting his hand over his mouth to muffle yet another moan. 

It’s Jason and his buddies, you can tell by their voices as you’ve hung out with them more times than you can count because they all seem to want to get into Billy’s weird little club. 

“Well, look what we’ve got here, boys,” Jason laughs. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a blowie in action.” And in response to that, the rest of them start a commotion, banging on the door and jiggling the lock back and forth as they taunt you. 

“C’mon out,” Andy laughs as he rattles the door and as the rest of them are taunting, Jason stands on the toilet in the stall next to yours to get a look at who’s behaving badly and he lets out a gasp as he takes in Eddie’s flushed cheeks. 

You turn to Jason and glare and he lets out a laugh as the jokes just seem to write themselves. Eddie “the freak” Munson and Billy’s girl? Oh, it all was just too good. 

You swallow and stand to your knees, still making eye contact with Jason as you get off your knees, pushing yourself against Eddie as he gets himself dressed, his cheeks fully bright red. 

“Why don’t you take a picture, Carver?” You ask as you exit the stall and Eddie follows behind you once he’s dressed. “It’ll last longer.” 

He just glares and goes to get off the toilet, but his foot slips and lands in the bowl, a string of curse words falling from his lips. You, Eddie, and the others hurry to see what’s happened and you can’t help but laugh at the sight before you. 

“Well, isn’t karma just a bitch?” You shake your head. “I bet the rest of the team would love to hear about how you and your buddies are into voyeurism,” you wink as Jason pulls his foot out of the toilet, his shoe squelching as he hurries to grab some paper towels. 

You follow and stand right next to him, not afraid to get in his face. Eddie is right up against you, using your as a shield and you don’t mind one bit. You love to protect him and love that he feels safe with you. 

“And you’ll think of this when you want to tell Billy. And besides,” you shrug before moving over to the mirror, pulling a tube of lipstick from your backpack before applying the color to your lips then blot it out with your finger. “We wouldn’t want Chrissy to know about the Polaroids in your locker, would we?” 

You can see that he’s violently angry and he raises his hand, but your grab hold of his wrist before it can touch you. You whip around, your lips twisting into a smirk as you bend his arm backwards. 

“You can’t do shit and you want to know why? Because I have shit on not only you, but all of your boys here and the rest of the basketball team. So I would think about your actions very carefully. Because you walk around here like you’ve got the biggest dick but honestly, I think that’s just wishful thinking as I’ve unfortunately seen it and let’s just say it leaves a lot to be desired.” 

You hold up your pinky and the rest of the boys all make a commotion at your size reference. They’re all cackling and you just smile as Jason seethes with anger, his cheeks burning red. 

With that, you let his arm go and Jason and the rest of the guys file out of the bathroom, making sure to push past Eddie as they do so, calling him a freak as well as other names before they’re all out in the hallway, leaving the two of you alone. 

You look at him and think he’s gonna shrink in on himself, but he’s just smiling at you like an idiot as he steps closer to you, his hands moving to rest on your hips. 

“Eddie, I’m so-“ you go to apologize but his lips are on yours before you can. 

“That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles against yours lips. “God, I love when you take charge like that. It makes me-“ he pauses, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

“Makes you what?” You ask and in response, he pulls you close and presses his bulge against your crotch, showing you exactly what he means. “Oh-“ you gasp and look into his eyes that are getting darker by the second. 

“Why don’t we go back to your place and finish what we started last night, hm?” 

“God, please,” he whines and you take him by the hand, leading him out to the parking lot where his van sits. 

Eddie honestly can’t believe his luck as he hurries to open the passenger door for you. Shit, the prettiest girl in Hawkins wants to go back to his place and fuck him? He wants to know what he’s done in his past life in order to have deserved that. 

You get into the van before he closes the door and you can’t help but notice the tension and how different it is. The van is filled with nothing but sexual tension when Eddie gets inside and you want nothing more than for him to take you right there, but you know he won’t, not in public. 

You throw your backpack in the floorboard while Eddie’s ends up somewhere in the back before he starts the engine, pulling out of his space, speeding out of the parking lot and down the road. 

He really wants to speed like always, but he’s got precious cargo, so he’s going to slow down just to be sure you’re safe. He reaches over and turns the dials of the radio up as a metal song you somewhat recognize comes on. 

You must admit that it feels very weird to go back to being good friends as if last night hadn’t happened at all, but you’re grateful for it, hoping that now it can all be in the past so you can focus on the present. That seems to be what Eddie wants to do anyway. And you’re more than happy to oblige. 

You still can’t believe that out of all of the women in Hawkins that you’re the one he wants to be his first. But then again, maybe you can. He’s told you on more than one occasion that he trusts you more than anyone and that he considers you to be his best friend. 

To you, sex is sex, a meaningless transaction between two people that’s nothing but for the sole purpose of using each other for their bodies. But to Eddie, you know it’s much more than that. He wants his first time to mean something. You wanted the same thing for yourself, but all you got was a quick fuck in the backseat of Billy’s car and it was over before you could even process what was happening. 

It was something you felt like you had to do in order to make Billy like you, so he’d keep you around. And he was always so selfish in bed, taking and taking from you, not even caring if you were enjoying yourself. It eventually got to the point where you started faking it and he was none the wiser since he was so caught up in his own pleasure. 

Just from last night, though, you know what sex with Eddie will be different. He actually seems to care about what you like and had even been beating himself up because of how he had done too much too fast. You wanted to enjoy yourself, but ultimately, you wanted to make sure that this was a perfect first time for him. 

The van pulls up the familiar trailer and Eddie grabs his backpack before hurrying to your side and helping you out of your seat. Hand in hand, you head into the trailer where Wayne is sitting at the table, eating what looks like an early dinner before he has to go to work. 

Wayne has easily become a father figure to you since your parents aren’t really around and he treats you like you’re part of the family. Even though he doesn’t have a lot to give you since he’s always tight on money, he still reminds you that what’s his is yours. Because in his mind, this is your safe place, the spot you go to when you need to get away from your house. And he’s always there with a mug of his famous hot chocolate and a warm hug. If it’s especially bad, he’ll have Eddie run down to Family Video to rent your favorite movie so it’s ready when you show up. 

He beams when you walk through the door before grabbing his jacket to head out the door. As he’s putting it on, you approach him, waiting until he’s done to pull him into a tight hug. His arms immediately wrap around you and he gives you a tight squeeze as you bury your face into his chest. It’s moments like these where you feel the most safe. Because being in Wayne’s arms takes away the nightmares. And you suppose like uncle like nephew because the same always happens with Eddie too. 

“Well, you two kids have fun,” he says once you pull away, moving to ruffle Eddie’s hair. “I left some money for pizza on the counter. And don’t stay up too late, you hear me? You two still have school tomorrow.” That’s right. It’s only Monday. 

With that, Wayne flees the trailer, leaving you and Eddie alone once again. Eddie heads into the kitchen to pick up the phone to call the pizza place and you stand next to him as he speaks, ordering the usual that you always share.

You look up at him as he wraps the cord around his hand, something he always does to stimulate his brain. And you love all of his cute little quirks like that. If it’s not the phone cord, he’s fiddling with his fingers, sometimes yours when you let him hold your hand when he’s particularly overwhelmed. 

He’s not the guy everyone says he is, that much is true. People just don’t like that’s so unapologetically himself. He’s nothing but sweet and kind and you hate that everyone just jumps to conclusions because he plays a game with his friends.

 You wish they could all see what you do, but you know they won’t. They’re all so stuck in their ways that they won’t even stop for a second to consider that maybe they’re in the wrong. But it doesn’t matter anyway because you kind of want him all to yourself.

Eddie hangs up the phone then looks at you, his mind wandering to all the things you could show him. And he wants you to. He wants so badly to finish off where you started off last night. After all, wasn’t that why you were there in the first place?

And before he can think too much about it, his lips are on yours as his hands grab onto whatever he can get to first and that happens to be your cheeks. It starts off soft and sweet but then he gets more rough with it, his hands sliding into your hair as they press into your scalp. He’s kissing you like he’s been doing it his whole life and you can’t help but get lost in him, the feeling of his lips on yours absolutely addicting. 

You grab hold of his hands and he’s concerned about how much he likes feeling yours in his. They’re always soft and warm compared to his cool, rough ones. You’re giving him a look and he knows you have something important to say because you’ve got that look. The one that always means that you have something important to say. 

But he doesn’t mind. In fact he likes it. He likes seeing this side of you, the side that’s not afraid to take charge, stealing exactly what it is that you want from him. You’re needy and hungry and goddamn are your lips addicting. 

“You’re so pretty,” you murmur as your hands slide up his shirt. “And you’re such a good boy. Gonna be a good one for me tonight?” You ask as Eddie’s hands white knuckle the edge of the counter since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

“Mhm,” he nods, too caught up in the way your tongue slides into his mouth. He remembers what you had done last night and wraps his tongue around it, giving it a rough suck that elicits a whine to fall from your lips. 

He likes the way it sounds and you can tell because you can feel him harden slightly against you. You think he’s going to ask to take it to the next step, but he doesn’t, his lips finding yours again as your hands stay against his bare back, not roaming around like he wants them to. 

And now you’re pulling him close to you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you’re backing out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom, closing the door behind you. Your hands are moving higher and higher as Eddie pulls away, lifting his arms so you can remove his shirt and you do, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside before you pull him to you again, taking his hands in yours and looking him in the eyes. 

“If I do something you don’t like or you just want to stop, let me know. And on the opposite of that, if I do something you do like, don’t be afraid to make noise. In fact, the louder the better.”

“I understand,” he nods, threading your fingers together. “Thank you for making me feel good. That means a lot to me. And I’ll do whatever you want. This is just as much about you as it is about me.”

Your cheeks heat at his words, feeling your heart warm. You had only ever slept with one person and he never did what you wanted. So while Eddie’s words make you feel special, you can’t help but think about how foreign they sounded. 

“You’re so sweet,” you smile, fighting back your tears as you pull him in for another kiss, this one more needy, more hungry than your others. He licks into your mouth and lets it roam around, wanting to taste every single inch of it, wanting to familiarize himself with it. 

“Undress me,” you mumble against his lips and he pauses, pulling away from you as his eyes widen. The words have come out so naturally as if it was something you had asked him to do all the time. He saw you naked last night, but this is different. He hadn’t really been thinking about it, thinking more about how he was inside you and what he was supposed to do. He was really going to appreciate you now.

He feels nervous but excited as he raises his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling up on it and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head, revealing a black bra that he can’t stop staring at. He then pulls himself out of his trance and moves on to your jeans. You can see his hands shaking and you want nothing more than to pull him into a hug. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” you say, bringing your hands up to rest on top of his. “C’mere,” you hold your arms out and he’s quick to pull you against him, his head resting on your chest while his arms wrap around your waist. 

“There’s no need to be nervous, baby,” you tell him as you bring your hand up to stroke his hair the way you know he likes. “It’s just me.” 

But that’s the thing, Eddie thinks. It’s just you. You’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen and you can sleep with any guy you want, so why him? Why’s he so special? He’s got a lot of insecurity surrounded by not being wanted, so you wanting him…in this way, is making him feel out of place. 

“Yeah, exactly,” he replies, pulling back to look at you. “It's you. You’re beautiful and could have any guy you want. So why me, y/n?” He’s pouting as he lowers his head and you want to kiss him stupid, to take him right there on his bed to show him just how much this means to you and that he’s not just someone you want to cross off a list. 

You know he’s asking a genuine question, but you can’t help but laugh. You thought it was obvious. He’s your best friend and all you want to do is make him feel good. You want to tell him about how often you’ve thought about him in that way. That you’ve thought about him almost every time you’ve slept with Billy, just wishing that Eddie had taken his place

“You wanna know why I chose you?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck and he just nods. “Because you’re sweet,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “And kind.” His other cheek. “And adorable.” This one is pressed to his nose and he feels his cheeks flush with all of the compliments. “And not to mention stupidly hot.” The last kiss is for his lips and he quickly melts into you, his hands moving up to your bra as that was all the convincing he needed. He somehow unhooks it with ease then steps away so it can fall between the two of you. 

When he takes your naked torso, he lets out a gasp at how absolutely breathtaking you look. He lets his eyes rake over you, stopping at your tits, really taking the time to check you out since he hadn’t last night. You’re definitely the most beautiful naked woman he’s seen, not that he’s seen  as any in real life besides yours, but he’s still sure that he’s right. 

“You can touch me, Eddie,” you assure him. “It’s okay. I know you want to.” And he does, so badly. So he slowly reaches up and brings his hands up to them, letting you fix them so they’re making the correct gesture. 

His thumbs press against your nipples and you instruct him on what to do, moaning loudly as his thumbs move in circular motions, leaning into him as you do so. He’s getting harder against you, feeling himself progressively tenting in his jeans as more moans fall from your lips as he continues to work. 

The whole thing feels foreign to him, but you just feel so good in his mouth that he wants to continue. He hasn’t been doing it for long, but he thinks he could easily do it for hours. Especially when you’re making such pretty sounds. And they sound even better in real life than they have in his dreams. You’re so loud and he’s absolutely eating it up.

“That’s it,” you moan. “Just like that-fuck.” Eddie doesn’t know what he’s doing, but the next thing he knows, his mouth is on your nipple, his tongue swirling around it he gives it a rough suck. “So you’ve got foreplay down for sure,” you tell him through labored breaths. 

His movements continue, sucking on your nipple as his tongue flicks against it, but then he decides to test the waters by bringing it between his teeth and that seems to unleash something in you. You moan so loudly and he just knows you’re coming by the way you arch your back, your nails scratching down his as your head falls backwards, his name coming out of your mouth in the most hot way he’s ever heard. 

He’s feeling cocky now as he’s successfully gotten you off. And he was able to do it with just his mouth so he thinks that has to mean something. He wonders if Billy’s ever done that, making you come so loudly even though he shouldn’t be comparing himself to him. Things with you and Billy are clearly over, so he doesn’t need to be thinking about him anymore. He’s no longer a threat anymore.

“Fuck, need you inside me,” you whine as you’re coming down from your orgasm. “Take off my pants. God, he’s bricked now and he finds himself needing to be inside you just as much as you do. So you’re both taking each other’s pants off, struggling to do so, so you take your own pants off until you’re both in your underwear. 

And the next thing you know, you’re both fully naked and Eddie is lying flat on the bed, all ready for you as you move to straddle him, but you pause before you can get into position. He sees a concerned look on your face and he’s quick to sit up, grabbing hold of your hips as he sits up, a look of concern flashing across his face as he prepares to do whatever you need, whatever he can to make that furrow of your eyebrows to go away. 

“What’s wrong, honeybee?” He asks as his fingers move up and down your back gently. 

“We used my last condom last night, and obviously I didn’t think this was going to happen, so-” You cut yourself off as you chew on your bottom lips. Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this nervous and it’s internally panicking. You’re usually so laid back about everything so he can’t understand why something like not having a condom is causing you to stress.

“We don’t have to use one,” he says and clearly that was the wrong answer by the way you look at him. You haven’t even done anything yet and he’s already fucked up again. But he’s willing to fix it. To do anything to see that pretty smile again.

“But what about-”

“Hey,” he cuts you off, his voice so soft and reassuring that you take a deep breath, trying so hard to match his energy. “It’s okay. I have one.” He leans over to his bedside table and pulls one out of the drawer and he sees you visibly relax as he presents it to you.

You open it and roll it onto him before topping him, the moan that falls from his lip sounding like music to your ears and you begin to ride him slow as his hips buck against yours at the same pace. Together, you move as one as you lean over him as your hands find his. You watch him come undone underneath you, grateful that it’s going much better than it did the night before. 

“Fuck, honeybee,” he whines. “This is so much better than I was imagining.” He’s cringing as soon as the words leave his mouth, but all you can do is smile. 

“Oh, so you’ve been imagining it?” You tease, but really, you’re nothing but flattered. That he’s been thinking about it in the way that you have. “Well that makes two of us.” 

“All the time,” he tells you. “When I go to bed, in the shower, even in-” he’s cut off by an orgasm rolling through him and you watch in amazement, fascinated as you watch him come absolutely undone beneath you. 

He’s a little embarrassed by how quickly he’s come, but you seem to be into it, encouraging him, talking him through it. And god does, this beat the nights where he has nothing but his lotion, sock and hand to keep him company. Now that he’s had the real thing, masturbation is never going to compare in his eyes. 

“Yeah, just like that, baby. Such a good boy for me, hm?” You coo and he swears he’s going to all over again just by hearing that nickname. He eats it up every time. 

Just when you’re going to make him come again, there’s a knock on the door, making the two of you pause. You had completely forgotten about the pizza as other things had taken over your mind. You let out a laugh then climb off Eddie before helping him sit up. 

“I’ll get it,” you tell him as you throw on his boxers and t-shirt before standing in front of him. “Just make sure to save room for dessert,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to his lips and then you disappear into the hallway while Eddie hurries to dispose of the condom and clean himself up before he finds another pair of boxers and t-shirt. 

Once he’s dressed, he sits on the bed feeling nothing but giddy as he’s actually had sex with his dream girl. He collapses onto his bed with a contented sigh as he waits for you to come back. A grin is plastered on his face as he stares up at the ceiling and he can still feel himself inside of you. He’s riding a high that drugs have never been able to give him and that orgasm was easily the best one he’s ever had. 

You come back into the room looking like nothing but a dream and he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon as you set the pizza box on the bed along with two plates and bottles of water. 

You hand Eddie a plate and he doesn’t think he’s ever been happier in his life. You’ve shared more meals together than you can count throughout your friendship but this one feels different. It feels more intimate, almost like you’re a couple but you’re clearly not. At least, that’s what Eddie keeps reminding himself. 

You sit right next to him and Eddie can feel your warmth emanating off your body. And seeing you in his clothes is doing something to him. Why is he more nervous to sit next to you than he was to sleep with you? Maybe it’s because it’s brought you closer, makes him realize just how in love with you he is even though he knows his feelings aren’t reciprocated. And that’s perfectly fine with Eddie. He doesn’t care what you are to him as long as you’re in his life. 

The two of you polish off the pizza then go for multiple rounds between Eddie’s sheets before you fall asleep in each other’s arms. Eddie’s convinced that’s the best sleep he’s ever gotten and he knows that’s just because you’re there. There’s something about you that always seems to calm the screams that always circle his mind when he’s alone or with anyone who’s not you. 

And you sleep well too, deciding that you’ll be able to do so as long as you’re in his arms, and you intend to be for as long as he’ll have you. It’s not like your parents will notice or care anyway. They’re either out for the night or arguing so loud that you can’t focus on anything else. Eddie’s trailer is the one place where you feel like you can actually get some peace and quiet. 

Ever since that night in Eddie’s trailer, the two of you have been fucking on any surface you can find. You’ve done it on his couch, the back of his van, the boys’ bathroom at school, the janitor’s closet, and even on the hellfire table when you had met up with him after the session. It’s all just a cycle and neither of you can seem to get enough, as one of you is always initiating it and it’s always obvious where it’s going. 

And even though it’s only been almost a week, Eddie’s become a natural. He somehow always knows what you want and when you want it, giving it to you with no question. He knows where to touch and what to say, god is he good at the dirty talk. He may be shy in public, but as soon as it's just the two of you, he’s got a filthy mouth. 

But even when you’re not sleeping together, you’re still attached at the hip wherever you go. If you’re at his trailer, you’re cuddled up on the couch and at school, you’re either walking hand in hand or have your arms wrapped around each other. And when you can’t see each other for whatever reason, you’re on the phone, yapping into the early hours of the morning when you’re definitely supposed to be asleep. 

This is the happiest either of you have been and even though you don’t exactly know what you and Eddie are, you’re just happy to have him around because of how happy he makes you. You know that the elephant in the room should be addressed, but you’re terrified to have that conversation. You’ve already had it with Billy and look where that got you. 

Eddie knows there’s something you’re not saying. He can see it in your mannerisms and even right on your face, but he doesn’t want to pry. He doesn’t want to get into your business because that’s yours. He doesn’t like to pry. But he wants to know what you’re thinking. He wants you to just come out and say it even though he can’t get himself to ask. So you both just dance around the subject since your bodies do all of the talking anyway. 

-

You find yourselves in the back of Eddie’s van once again in the parking lot of the grocery store. You know how public it is, but that makes it even more exciting. You’re on all fours as he fucks you from behind, his cock pounding into you as one of his hands is massaging your tit. You’re facing the back so anyone could see pretty much all of you as they pass by, but it’s not like you’re looking anyway. 

Your eyes are shut tight as continuous moans fall from your lips as Eddie’s encouraging you with the most filthy words. He’s slowly fitting all of himself inside you inch by inch and even though you feel like you’re going to be torn apart, you hardly mind. In fact, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“So good, Eddie, oh my god,” you whine. 

“Yeah, you like that, honeybee?” He asks as his fingers dig into your hips. You like how he still uses your sweet nickname that always juxtaposes his dirty words. You don’t know where it came from, but it always seems to make your cold heart thaw just a little bit every time you hear it. 

“More,” you moan. “Harder.” He hesitantly does as you ask and pounds into you even harder, a louder moan falling from your lips as he does so. 

Billy pulls into the parking lot, muttering to himself about how he always has to do everything. Of course Susan just had to be out of pumpkin for a recipe and of course she sent him to the store because Neil can never get off his lazy ass and do anything for his wife. 

He’s still muttering to himself about his shitty life when he sees a van rocking back and forth a few feet away. And because he’s a perv, he just has to see who’s getting it on in the grocery store parking lot. He recognizes the van, but he can’t figure out where from. 

He approaches the back and peers in, feeling himself getting hard as he’s just thinking about seeing what he thinks he will. Whoever this chick is, she’s hot, and the way she comes makes him feel tight in his jeans. He’s seconds away from climbing in the van himself and taking over while he makes the bastard watch.

The girl looks familiar to him, though. He’s definitely seen her but he can’t quite pinpoint where. Maybe he’s fucked her? That seems likely considering he’s fucked pretty much all of the girls in Hawkins…and their moms. But then it all clicks in his brain as he sees you moan and now he’s angry, especially when he gets a glimpse of who’s behind you.

You and Munson?

He thinks he’s going to be sick as his hands slam against the van, causing both of you to jump. But he’s gone when you two look up, continuing what your doing. You’re reaching your orgasm and your moans are loud as your body starts to go limp. 

You don’t mean to say it, the words just come out because of how overwhelmed with pleasure you are. It’s just three words, but they hold so much meaning, hold so much power. 

“I love you,” you cry, and as soon as the words leave your mouth, you both pause, the sudden realization of what you’ve said washing over the two of you. Eddie’s quick to pull out and he grabs your shoulders and twists you around, pinning you to the floor of the van so he can see your face. 

You think he’s going to make a run for it, but he just stays there, staring down at you with his pretty brown eyes. And then a smile kicks up at the corners of his mouth and now he’s full on grinning. You cover your face in embarrassment, wanting to take it all back, but he grabs hold of your hands and pins them to the floorboard so you can’t hide. 

Eddie lowers himself down onto you and he pushes some of your sweaty hair away from your forehead, his grin faltering, but the smile is still very much there. 

“I love you too, honeybee,” he replies as his lips find your cheek, then your other one, peppering your face in kisses as multiple “I love you’s” come from his mouth, the giggles coming from yours sounding like music to his ears. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. But if we’re getting specific, it was that night we watched Carrie and you snuggled into my chest.”

“You’ve loved me that long?” You ask and he pecks your lips. 

“I have,” he nods, his cheeks going pink as he lays his head on your chest while you run your fingers through his hair. 

“I think I’ve loved you for a while, but I realized it when I left that night, thinking that you were mad at me and I realized how devastated I was to possibly not have you in my life.” 

You feel your heart hammering in your chest as you confess to him, the feeling of vulnerability making you feel sick. But that all disappears when he leans up to look at you, resting his chin on your chest as he smiles up at you. 

Eddie knows how scary you find sharing your feelings so he’s honored that you’re being honest with him. That you value him so much that you feel like you can tell him what you’d never want to tell anyone else. And that just shows just how much you value him as a person. 

“Wow,” he replies with a smile. 

“And I was thinking…that if you’re up for it…we could go to Nancy’s party tomorrow night. As a couple.” 

Eddie’s smile grows even wider as he pins you to the floor one more time, peppering your face in kisses again, your laugh even louder this time. 

“I’d love to,” he says as his lips find yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he smiles into the kiss. And the two of you stay like that for a while, until your lips are kiss-bitten and he lays his head on your chest again, thinking to himself that he’s finally done something right in his. 

“The blue one,” Eddie says as you hold up two dresses for him to choose. He’s lying on your bed as you get ready for the party, staring at you with so much love, completely enthralled by your routine. 

“That’s the one I wanted you to pick,” you reply as you pull it off the hanger and throw it over your head. Eddie is quick to stand behind you and he zips up your dress, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he does so. 

“You look beautiful,” he says. “But you know where it would look even better?” He asks, his lips right by the shell of your ear. “On the floor,” he whispers and his hot breath sends a chill up your spine. “We could stay in,” he presses another kiss to your shoulder, moving up to your neck. 

“Eddie,” you laugh and turn around so you’re facing him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands rested on your waist. “We have to go,” you tell him. “I promised Nancy.”

“Alright,” he sighs. “But you owe me after.” 

“Of course I do,” you nod and press a kiss to his lips before you grab your shoes and let him lead you out to his van.

Everyone’s already at Nancy’s when the two of you show up and Eddie squeezes your hand as you pull him through the crowd, pressing his body against your back as he’s suddenly nervous again. He had hyped himself up the whole way there, but now he’s feeling like his shy self and is trying so hard to resist the urge to lock himself in the bathroom the whole night. 

You’re the only reason why he’s even there. He can’t say no to your pretty face even though parties are the bane of his existence. Well, he doesn’t know that for sure since he’s never actually been to one that wasn’t hosted by someone in Hellfire. But they’re not really his thing. He hates the loud music and all of the chatter gets into his head and drives him crazy. 

But he’s there for you. Because he loves you so much that he’ll do whatever you ask. And he saw how happy you were when you were getting ready and there was no way he was going to disappoint you.

So he lets you pull him into the living room where the host of the evening is conversing with Robin. You pull Eddie over to them with a smile and theirs match yours once they spot you. 

“There she is,” Nancy says as she pulls you into a hug and Robin follows. “And it looks like I owe Robin five dollars.”

“Why do you owe her money?” You ask and she and Robin giggle. 

“She bet me that you’d bring Eddie. But I only owe her if the two of you are together.”

“We are,” you confirm and you and Eddie are wearing matching grins. As shy as he is, he wants the world to know that he’s your boyfriend so he doesn’t mind in the slightest that you’re telling your friends. In fact, he prefers it. It means that you feel so secure in your relationship that you want to tell people about it. 

“Good, because I owe Steve,” Robin replies and Nancy’s quick to elbow her in the stomach. 

“What she means is that we’re happy for you guys. It’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it, Rob?”

That makes you wonder how obvious the two of you have been and how neither of you saw it. But you can see where they’re coming from as you’ve always been very close to Eddie, both emotionally and physical.

“It sure has,” you hear a voice behind you and feel your skin crawl as you know exactly who it is. You don’t want to turn around, but force yourself, making sure that your mind isn’t playing tricks on you. You have to confirm that you’re not in some sort of fucked up nightmare. 

You gasp when you see Billy standing a few feet away, slowly making his way closer as one arm holds onto a girl’s waist and his other hand is holding a cigarette that he’s putting to his lips. He takes a drag and blows it into the air. You grab hold of Eddie’s hand and squeeze it as Billy approaches, blinking a few times and even going as far as pinching yourself to be positive that he was actually there.

“So you two, huh?” He asks, referring to the both of you with his cigarette. “So it looks like you got my sloppy seconds. That’s fine. She’s damaged goods anyway.”

By the way he’s speaking, you can tell he’s drunk, so much so that you can smell it on him even with him standing so far away. You can see how angry Eddie is already getting out of the corner of your eye. 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” He asks as he removes his arm from the girl, slightly pushing her aside as he puts his cigarette out on the mantle above the fireplace. “Better be careful, Munson. She might try to baby trap you.” 

That’s a low fucking blow and Billy knows it. He knows how to hit you right where it hurts and he can see it’s worked as horror flashes across your face. Good, that will show you for leaving him. 

You remember it all so vividly, the flashbacks coming back to you in full force. It hits you all so hard that you have to hold onto Eddie as you try to shake it out of your head, but you can’t. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell Billy as you hold up the test for him to see. You think he’s going to jump for joy, but you guess you should have known better as he steps closer to you, anger evident on his face. 

“What the fuck is that?” He asks as he points to the test. 

“It’s a test,” you reply, your smile faltering, your voice getting smaller. 

“Yeah,” he spits. “A positive one and there’s no fucking way I’m having a baby.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I can raise it on my own.” Before you can turn away from him, he grabs onto your wrist and squeezes it until you’re wincing. 

“Yeah, that’s not fucking happening. I don’t need people finding out that I fathered a child and I  most certainly don’t need that little fucker trying to find me when it gets older.” He lets go of your hand then takes the tests and throws it in the trash before turning back to you. “We’re getting rid of it and you’re not going to tell anyone, got it?” 

“Y/n…what’s he talking about?” Eddie asks as he steadies you and you’re not ready to tell him the truth.

“Tell him, y/n,” Billy commands. “Tell him about how you were so hellbent on having a baby that you tricked me into it.”

“I didn’t trick you,” you correct, shaking off the nervousness in your voice. “It’s not my fault you never wear a condom and didn’t pull out in time.”

You’ve got an audience now and you want the floor to swallow you whole while Billy is eating up the attention. That’s the whole reason why he’s there. He just wants to put on a show, to make you regret what you’ve done. Because if Billy can’t be happy, no one can.

You feel like you’re going to throw up and have to step closer to Eddie to make yourself feel more comfortable. You want to leave but know you can’t, because then Billy will win and you can’t have that. You want to be the champion this time.

“Well it doesn’t matter anymore,” Billy chuckles as he grabs a cup from some girl’s hand then downs it before throwing it to the side. He then takes a few strides until he’s standing in front of you. “Because the little thing doesn’t exist anymore, does it?” He asks and you’re so pulled into the flashback that you don’t hear everyone gasp as he makes the revelation. 

All of a sudden, you’re thrown back in the waiting room where you had to sit alone, unbeknownst to you that Billy was fucking some other girl right after dropping you off. He was making you get rid of the baby that you wanted and he didn’t even have the decency to sit with you. 

When you come out of your trance just in time to see Eddie throw a punch Billy’s way and Billy retaliates but Eddie is quick to move out of the way, causing Billy’s fist to collide with your face. Everyone gasps as you cover your nose with your hands and the girls pull you back as Eddie gets in a few more punches, causing Billy to fall to the floor before Eddie takes you up stairs to the bathroom to help clean you up. 

You’re sobbing as Eddie pulls you up the stairs and once you’re there, he pulls you into the bathroom, making you sit on the toilet as he rifles through the cabinet above the sink to find what he needs to help you. 

He can’t fucking believe it. He knew Billy was a dick, but he didn’t know that he went around making his hookups get abortions, especially not you. He wants to ask exactly what happened, but he knows it’s not his place. So he just gathers what he needs then moves to kneel in front of you. 

He cleans up your wound and you feel guilt rising inside you as you think about the fact that he knows your biggest secret and you weren’t even the one to tell him. It makes you feel so sick that Billy had shown up with the intention of embarrassing you, but you guess you shouldn’t be surprised. And he got what he wanted anyway, even if he got a bloody and possibly broken nose in return.

“It happened last year…around this time,” you tell him as he hands you a piece of toilet paper which you put against your nose, wincing at the pain. “I told him that I was pregnant and he…I…” You try to find the words, but Eddie presses his hands against your cheeks to stop you. 

“Hey, hey, let’s not focus on that right now, okay?” He asks. “We’re gonna fix up your nose and then we’re gonna go home and watch a movie and once you’ve slept on it and have a clear head, then you can tell me.” 

“Okay,” you nod, knowing that you can’t fight him on it. And you don’t want to anyway. You agree and think it's too much for one night. 

“Now let’s get you cleaned up, okay, honeybee?” You nod and let him clean you up, noticing how often he’s called you that nickname and now you want to know where it came from, the meaning behind it. 

“Why do you call me ‘honeybee’?” You ask, looking up at him and he laughs in response. 

“Because you’re sweet like honey, but you sting like a bee,” he winks. “Now hold on, this might sting,” he says as he brings a cotton pad covered in alcohol up to the wound. 

You watch him as he works and can’t believe that after all the shit you’ve gone through that you finally found someone who loves you for who you are. That he doesn’t think low of you because of where you come from or your home life or the way you react to things because of your trauma.

Eddie sees the version of you that you show to only him and as you’ve gotten closer to him, you’ve felt the walls that you’ve spent years building fall away. You feel more like yourself around him and less like the shell that you had been when you hung out with Billy. And when you look into the future, you can see the two of you together, rocking your newborn on the front porch of the house you share together. And then you’d take her over to Wayne’s so he could watch her while the two of you go out for a much needed date night. And maybe, if you play your cards right, that’s exactly what will happen.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 9

[chap eight] | [all chapters here] | [chap ten]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | Me?? Taking another unexpected writing hiatus?? Never. But forreal, you all know how life gets. So, as a treat here's a longer chapter (that may or may not be a bit rambly) to make up for my absence. As I wrote, this just kept going and going, so I hope you all enjoy the extra few thousand words lmao

WC | 8.6k

Chapter Nine

The rest of Monday was absolute shit following your fight with Eddie. After spending the entirety of lunch break hiding out under the bleachers in an attempt to pull yourself together, facing your peers for the rest of the day was the last thing you wanted. The trek to your fifth period class was like some walk of shame, as if you were wearing some damned scarlet letter; it felt as if the entire school was watching you, waiting to see if you’d make yourself look like an idiot again or if you’d erupt. You had never felt so scrutinized before, so susceptible to judgment, but you fought tooth and nail not to give people the reaction they were hoping for.

The next day wasn’t any better. Once again, you felt the weight of everyone’s attention, you felt the pressure of all their judgment. Was this how it felt to be in Eddie’s shoes, how it felt to be a total social outcast? It was even shittier than you could have predicted, and you found yourself questioning the stupid little plan you and Eddie had been hatching that led to this.

It only grew worse as the day went on. Third period was arguably the most frustrating - you were stuck sitting next to Eddie for a whole damn hour, and he didn’t speak a single word to you. You didn’t even think it was possible for that boy to go quiet for longer than a few minutes, yet he proved you wrong, keeping his mouth zipped tight and his eyes on anything but you. Being ignored by Eddie caused your anger to flare, and if you had less self control you would’ve said something about it, would’ve given him a piece of your mind, but your frustrations had kept you, too, surprisingly silent. Or maybe it was the fear of looking stupid again.

Wednesday continued much the same way, although you felt less frustrated by everyone’s critical glances and Eddie’s willful ignorance of your existence. You thought maybe you were starting to get your shit together, that you had finally combatted all your pent up emotions and pushed them all the way down to the pit of your heart, where you'd just ignore them like you did with any challenging feelings. Hell, you were even beginning to fool yourself into thinking that you were feeling better, though deep down you knew that wasn’t true.

The worst that the week had to offer came during lunch that day, though, when you foolishly tried to approach Duncan and demand to know what the hell his deal was. You thought you had pulled yourself together well enough - you spoke with a sharp tone and a cool demeanor, but he and his gang of friends simply mocked your attempts at an argument. They did everything they could to make you feel small, but you kept it together, retreating from their harsh words with all the poise you could muster, hoping that your anger wasn’t too obvious. Their laughter and whispers wouldn't get to you, or at least you'd never show it - the whole school already saw you vulnerable once, it was not about to happen again.

 Consider your reputation officially fucking ruined. 

The thing that hurt more than any of their insults and derogatory words, however, was the look on Eddie’s face as you two met eyes across the lunch room, the way he watched you as you tried to march away from Duncan with your pride still intact. Eddie had been witness to the entire shitty interaction, you realized as you kept your eyes locked on his; the worry and concern so clear on his face caused a crack in your otherwise icy exterior, and you had to rip your gaze away so he couldn't see the hurt in your expression. You nearly broke down the very moment you were out of the cafeteria, the look on Eddie’s face burned into your mind.

The rest of the day was a fucking blur, and you were so emotionally worked up that you were grateful to leave school and go to the one place that could normally calm you down - the ice rink. Wednesday was always your skating day, and today you felt like you needed it more desperately than usual, thankful to spend a few hours on the ice after school. In all your moments of frustration, skating always did wonders to even you out, reminding you why you still enjoyed it after all these years - it helped calm your nerves, clear your head, and relax your heart. It helped to de-escalate your emotions, to make you think straight, and after how hard the past couple of days were, you desperately needed that.

Your anger at Duncan was still burning hot as ever, and even as you slowly relaxed you were still desperate to get back at him, not above stooping to his level. You’d have to corner him when he was alone, without his posse to back him up - then you could really hurt him with your scathing words. You also couldn’t help but wonder just how involved Amelia and Janet were in all this shit - if anything, this stunt was Amelia’s idea, but Janet? She couldn’t have been this cold and heartless; or maybe you just desperately hoped she wasn't.

As you looped around the ice far less elegantly than you normally would, you tried your damnedest not to think about Eddie, as if ignoring the thought of him would somehow remove you from fault. Now that you’ve actually had time to think about it, you knew you’d been mean to him just for the sake of it, just to let your frustrations out on someone. A younger you wouldn't have cared that you mistreated someone, would've just waved it off like a brat and moved on with your life. Hell, only a few months ago, you probably would've still found it comical to talk down to someone like Eddie the way that you did.

But you were not that girl anymore, although you also weren't emotionally ready to acknowledge that Eddie didn’t deserve your vitriol; after all, you were mean to just about everyone, what made him any different? You knew that you’d treated him badly simply because it was easy, because he was the only person there and you needed to let it out. The less prideful part of you knew that you were wrong for that, but that side of you had thus far been outweighed by your own stubbornness. Now, however, you were starting to think maybe you needed to do something about it.

On the one hand, you considered that you had no obligation to make things right with Eddie, and yet, something about that upset you. Were you really so terrible and bitchy that you’d avoid apologizing to him? Were you going to simply ignore him, if not treat him even worse than you’d already had been? That’s certainly something you would have done in the past, but somehow Eddie fucking Munson had made you a little less harsh than you once were.

No, you didn’t need to make this right, but you wanted to. Somehow, Eddie had undeniably grown on you, and at this rate he was virtually the only person you had on your side (that is, of course, if you don’t take into account his ignoring you the past two days). If anyone had even suggested a month ago that you’d be getting along so well with Eddie Munson, you probably would have gagged. What could you and a guy like him possibly have in common, what could you two possibly bond over? These were questions that you were still seeking answers to, even as you drove home after hours of skating at the rink.

Perhaps it was your sense of humor, so much more aligned with his than either of you had expected. Or maybe it was the effortlessness with which you could talk to one another, like you’d already known each other far longer than a few weeks. Hell, maybe it was that Eddie challenged you without even being mean about it, how he so simply gave you new perspectives to take into account and made you reconsider things you thought you knew.

It was strange to realize that, in your own way, you two had become almost-friends quite rapidly. Was that normal? Did other people feel so at ease with someone they’d known for only a few short weeks? You couldn’t remember what it was like when you became friends with Amelia or Janet or anyone else that ran in your former circle - had you bonded with them just as easily as you had with Eddie? Something in you suspected no.

But you tried to avoid thinking about that too much, because you certainly weren’t going to dig into it any deeper.

As you walked through the front door of your home, the silence of the house confirmed to you that your father was still, supposedly, at work. The only time you heard the buzz of electronics throughout the house was when he was around, because your mom never left a television or radio on unnecessarily. You’d bet that she was probably in the kitchen with the radio down low, just a bit of background noise to keep her company as she prepped for dinner. Or maybe she was on the phone in the home office, chatting away with one of her friends about the latest gossip in town.

You hated to admit it, but you and your mom were both used to your father not being around often - most days, he was gone before you left for school and didn’t return home until well into the evening. This had been the family’s routine for years now, so your father’s lack of interest in spending time at home no longer phased you. His absence was just as routine as your school schedule or your mom’s biweekly nail appointments.

You found it far more surprising when he was around - in fact, it almost dared to make you suspicious of him. Because you figured he never seemed interested in spending time with you or your mom, you couldn’t help but speculate what would prompt him to suddenly spend every night at the dinner table for a couple weeks, or to even suggest the family go out together on the weekend. You assumed it was some form of guilt - for a while now, you had yourself convinced that he was having an affair, so perhaps his brief bouts of attentiveness were his measly efforts to reconcile his infidelity with himself.

Of course, you’d never dare even imply this suspicion to your mother, for all you knew it could send her spiraling. And a part of you was convinced that perhaps she’d had her suspicions as well.

As you closed the front door behind you and slid out of your sneakers, you had every intention of running off to your room to avoid your mom entirely. After the week you’d had thus far, you’d rather be left alone, you didn’t want to get caught up in her usual superficial conversations. But before you could even take a step towards the staircase, your mom zipped out of the kitchen towards you, an eager shine in her eyes that almost made her appear younger. You gave her a quizzical look, taking a step back as she got just a little closer than you cared for; even with your parents, you preferred people stay at arm’s length.

“How was your day, hon?” She asked as if in anticipation of something. Your face twisted with even more confusion - what the hell was she so excited about? Was she really that oblivious to the funk you’d been in the past three days?

You stepped around your mom, intending to end this conversation quickly so you could disappear to your room. Your tone was dismissive as you replied coldly, “Not great.”

Her joy seemed to falter a little as she followed just a step behind you; clearly, whatever she wanted to talk about seemed to be important to her, “What do you mean?”

You paused to look back at her again, your agitation clear on your face as you studied her. You weren’t certain, but it seemed as if she were expecting a different response - a particular response. What exactly was she fishing for?

“Today sucked. Just like the rest of this shitty week.” Your tone was cold as you raised your brow, hoping that your attitude may deter her from asking anymore questions. Your callous word choice caused her to pull a face, studying your expression as if she were seeing you for the first time in a long time. For a moment, you thought maybe she’d actually act like your mother, you thought maybe she’d ask you what was wrong and offer a shoulder to cry on.

“I figured it’d be good,” she started with concern in her voice, putting on something of an encouraging smile, “considering the assembly on Monday.”

Dread immediately washed over you, her words causing your heart to drop into your stomach - how did she know about the assembly? The school wouldn’t have called the parents about it, they didn’t care that much. Maybe one of her friends had heard from their kid and then told her? Possibly, but not the most likely. So, how did she know?

All you could do was stare for a few tense moments, fighting to keep in all the feelings you’d just worked through on the ice rink. Your jaw tightened as you swallowed hard, attempting to quiet your mind and take a deep breath. Your intense eyes burned into your mother, who seemed to recognize that what she’d just said may have been a mistake.

“How do you know about that?” You probed with an edge to your voice, feeling as if all your emotions were going to come spilling out of you at any minute.

Although she appeared hesitant, your mom kept her composure, persisting to act bright in the foolish hopes that it would help you relax, “Amelia called while you were out.”

If your heart could drop any further, it would have. You began to feel almost out of body as you started to piece it all together, already realizing Amelia’s fucking game. She knew you wouldn’t have mentioned your dissolved friendship to your mother because of your distant relationship with your parents, and now she was using it against you. To what end? Simply to torment you more?

Receiving no response from you, your mother smiled encouragingly, still trying her hardest to keep things chipper as she continued, “She wanted to know if I’d like to be a chaperone for homecoming. She seemed so excited that both of you were nominated for homecoming queen!”

Your jaw clenched in anger, eyes growing harsher as they burnt into your mother. You had no reason to be mad at her, but at that moment your rage was coming back up, clawing its way out of you. It took everything in your power not to shout expletives in her face.

So, you turned away from her, trying to collect yourself by taking a few deep breaths. From over your shoulder, your mom continued, trying in vain to understand what was going on with you, “Honey, what’s wrong? This should be exciting news.”

You whipped around angrily, but bit your tongue as you two stared at one another, you in vexation and your mom in concern. You took one more deep breath while rolling your eyes, looking away again.

“Did Amelia tell you who I was nominated with? Or that we haven’t spoken a word to each other in nearly two weeks?” As your frustration bubbled, you met her eyes again, “Or that I was only nominated as some shitty prank? Did she mention that I ran out of the gym like a fucking coward because of how humiliated I felt?”

Your mother’s face was awash with concern as she looked between your eyes, and for a moment you really did think she’d comfort you, in fact, you were almost hoping for it. But that was quickly squashed, “Will you please watch your language? You don’t have to get so worked up.”

The upset on your face only increased - despite everything else you said, your language was the thing that concerned her most? You scoffed with frustration, shaking your head in disbelief as you all but shoved past her, keeping your wild eyes away from hers.

“You don’t even care!” You said venomously, stomping back towards your belongings left by the front door. Haphazardly, you shoved your feet into your shoes and dug around for your keys, “I’m not good right now, mom, and all you’re worried about is my fucking language! Do you care how I’m feeling?”

With a flustered look, your mom approached you, “Of course I care, but I can’t even understand you anymore! You’ve been so different recently, so much more distant. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if you won’t tell me?”

You simply shook your head, throwing your bag back on your shoulder once you had your keys. As you swung open the front door, it bounced off the wall, causing your mother to gasp at the aggressive act.

“Where are you going!?” She insisted while following you outside. You didn’t dare look back, marching towards your car as your anger continued to bubble over.

“Anywhere but here!” As you whipped around to the driver side door, you finally looked at your mother, who lingered on the front steps with a disappointed and confused expression. You were sure you looked absolutely wild and irate as you flung open the car door, carelessly tossing your bag inside and holding your mother’s gaze.

You could see that she was trying to make sense of the chaos happening right now, trying her best to keep it together as if that would calm you down now after everything that just happened. She wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so emotional and out of control - she’d seen you angrier these past couple weeks than you’d been your entire fucking life.

“Please just come back inside.” She tried earnestly, but you were too far gone to hear any of it. You ripped your gaze from hers and slammed the car door once you were settled into the seat, zipping out of the driveway fast enough that you nearly hit the mailbox.

You didn’t make it far, though, having to pull over only a minute later because you realized you were on the verge of crying. Fuck, when was the last time that had happened? You were never the type to get emotional like this, but shit, you’d had a stressful week. You had to catch your breath, to hold back your tears of anger, slamming your fists on the steering wheel a few times as if that could make everything better. You didn’t dare let a single tear roll down your face, but they were so welled up in your eyes that you could barely see, forcing you to blink and wipe them away.

What the hell were you doing? Where did you expect to go? These melodramatics felt fucking ridiculous, and you tried to convince yourself you were freaking out over nothing, although your emotions were clearly telling you otherwise. You couldn’t keep acting like this, you wouldn’t allow it - it wasn’t you, and it made you feel weak.

But shit, you felt like your world had been crashing down around you all week, and it was impossible to keep it together right now. So, you pounded your fists against the dashboard, hissing foul words while continuing to fight back everything that was swirling in your chest. You were certain that if any of your neighbors walked by your haphazardly parked car, they’d think you were having a total mental break. And maybe you were; fuck if you knew. You weren’t exactly thinking clearly right now.

After what felt like an eternity, you’d exhausted all your rage, dejectedly catching your breath and attempting to regain your composure. Shit, what were you going to do now? There’s no way in hell you’d go back home - you weren’t ready to deal with your mother again so soon. Or worse, your father, whose temper would simply set you off again.

As you swallowed down the lump in your throat, you couldn’t help but think of your fight with Eddie, and without any hesitation you accepted that right now you missed him. If you weren't so emotional, you'd have stopped to consider how strange that was. Maybe the past few days wouldn’t have been such shit if you’d just been nicer to him; maybe this was karma at work, making you miserable for how you treated him.

You had to apologize to Eddie. Right fucking now.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

As you drove through Forest Hills, you realized you’d never once set foot in a trailer park before. Looking out your windshield at the dark street, you were certain that one trailer home would maybe fill only two bedrooms of your own home. How people lived in such close quarters was something you couldn’t even comprehend, and on a normal night maybe you would’ve lingered on that thought. But considering that you came here on a mission, you were unable to become distracted; no, the anxiety that was rapidly growing in your chest kept you laser focused on the task you set out on.

It wasn’t until you reached this side of Hawkins that your fear began to mount - should you really be showing up to Eddie’s place unannounced? Is this terrible timing? What if his uncle was home? The further into Forest Hills you drove, the more worried you became. For all you knew, Eddie would slam the door in your face, tell you to fuck off and leave him alone. And after all the shit you’d dealt with this week, you couldn’t handle any more rejection.

Maybe you should just turn around and get out of here while you still have the chance.

But as that thought crossed your mind, you spotted Eddie’s van in front of one of the trailers, and your heart rate sped up to a frankly concerning pace. Shit, it was now or never. Turn back around and head home or face Eddie and his possible rejection. Frankly, both options sounded fucking awful.

For a few long moments, you simply lingered on the road, staring at Eddie’s trailer as your heart drummed in your chest; your eyes roved over the illuminated windows, half expecting to see Eddie’s silhouette appear in one of them any second now. But when no visual indicator of him appeared, you shook yourself back to the present, pulling up alongside his van with the brief thought that maybe he saw your headlights. You hesitated at that, waiting yet again to see if he’d appear in the window or at the door. Fuck, if you were going to be this nervous, you might as well just get out of here.

But you knew you couldn’t do that. You knew you had to talk to Eddie again, you had to have at least one decent relationship in your life right now. Considering that he was the closest thing you had to a friend at the moment, you had to make amends with him. Not that Eddie owed you any forgiveness, of course - again, the fear that he’d want nothing to do with you came creeping back up, even as you pulled the keys from the ignition and slowly stepped out of the car.

Fuck, what were you going to do if Eddie didn’t want to talk? You didn’t think you could manage to survive the rest of the week if he didn’t forgive you. Despite trying to ignore the thought, in a way you realized that right now you needed Eddie.

This shit better work.

You felt almost shaky as you approached the front door, hearing thrashing metal music reverberating inside the trailer. You had to take another pause at the door to collect yourself - you were not nervous like this, and you refused to appear this nervous in front of anyone. You were here to apologize, not to be vulnerable. So, you pulled yourself together with a few deep breaths, marching up to the door and knocking strongly before you could think to hesitate any longer. Considering how loud the music was, you realized Eddie probably didn't hear you, so you roughly pounded your fist against the door once again. You put on a brave face, taking one more deep breath as the music quieted and someone approached the door.

Of course, once you and Eddie locked eyes, you suddenly froze. All the things you’d rehearsed on the way over here momentarily left your head as you took in his surprised expression, the look in his eyes that suggested you were the last person he expected to see on his doorstep. For what felt like hours, the two of you stared at one another as you attempted to collect your thoughts, attempted to keep all your hurt from showing on your face.

You eventually had to rip your eyes away from Eddie, maybe then you could finally find your voice again. As you stared at his feet, you straightened out your back and clenched your jaw, trying to quiet your mind and get out at least one coherent thought. With a deep breath, you flicked your gaze back to his face.

“Can we talk?” Your voice came out strong, if not a little cold - good, at least you didn’t sound as weak as you’d been feeling recently.

Eddie’s expression was still a little taken aback, even as he tried to put on a calm, collected air. Had you not caught him so off guard, perhaps you would’ve been fooled by the lazy smirk he gave you or his seemingly relaxed posture. But given the look of near astonishment that was on his face only a moment prior, you knew he was probably just as unprepared for this conversation as you were.

“Well, since you drove all the way here…” Eddie trailed off in what was meant to be a casual tone, stepping to the side and nodding his head towards the trailer behind him. You looked between his eyes and the entryway for a moment before stepping up into his home, immediately taking it all in attentively - it was easier to focus on your surroundings than to focus on him and your emotions.

You weren’t sure what you had expected of Eddie’s home, but as you stood in his small living room, everything appeared exactly as it should have - the place was cozy, decorated with items that were clearly personal, reflecting the taste of someone so unlike your own family. Back in your own home, the art on the wall was perfectly curated by your mother, the only photos being staged family portraits; the furniture was also meticulously decided on, meant to look cohesive and clean and modern.

Here in the Munson trailer, the space actually felt lived in - the coffee table was stacked with car magazines and western paperbacks, the walls adorned with collections of hats and mugs. The furniture was worn from years of use, the kitchen was cluttered, a fold out bed was pushed off to one side - yes, this home actually had life to it, unlike the stale living environment you were so used to. Without having met the man, you already had a strong sense of Eddie’s uncle just by looking around the place.

The more you looked at the Munson home, the more your curiosity grew - you wanted to ask more about Eddie and his uncle and all the little details that made them a family. But before you could get to know any more about Eddie, first you had to actually make things right with him. So, you turned your attention back to him, briefly catching the self-conscious look on his face that he very quickly corrected - did he feel judged, having you in his home like this? Was he worried what you’d think now that you had this more intimate glimpse at his life?

The two of you stared at one another for a few long moments; Eddie was clearly anticipating what you’d say next, and you were still trying to decide where exactly to start. You raised a brow as you let out a breath, forcing yourself to look away again so you could actually speak - looking Eddie in the eye like this made it harder to apologize.

“I shouldn’t have acted like that.” You started, letting your gaze continue to roam over trinkets and decor in the living room. Off to your side, you heard Eddie hum in acknowledgement instead of saying anything, which seemed to be your cue to continue. You sighed a little, forcing yourself to be honest, hard as it may be; your voice was a touch quieter as you added, “You didn’t deserve that shit.”

“No, I didn’t.” Eddie responded with a hint of harshness to his tone, but considering the circumstances, he didn’t sound nearly as mad as you’d expected. You slowly spun around, looking anywhere but his direction so your words would come more easily.

“I… like having you around.” The sentence sounded juvenile to your ears, but you simply continued, “I know all I wanted was to stir shit up and be left alone, but the past couple days--”

You had to cut yourself off, suddenly feeling a sadness well up in your throat - you were not about to break, not right now, not in front of Eddie. So, you swallowed hard and tried to calm down before he could see the chink in your armor.

“Not so fun being on the other side of things, huh?” Eddie chimed in, saving you from yourself with his comment. You turned to him with a nod, hoping your eyes didn’t give too much away.

“Fucking sucks, actually.” You managed a small, sad smile. It looked as if Eddie, too, wanted to mirror the expression, but he kept it to himself. You took in his posture, his crossed arms and guarded look, hoping that you were getting through to him.

You let out a sigh, your gaze drifting down to the floor as you struggled to find your words. God, being sincere shouldn’t be so damn hard, but you were never one to admit your faults, never the type to open up easily. Despite your usual confidence and brashness, you couldn’t even seem to form proper sentences right now.

“I forgive you.” Those three simple words drew a surprised look from you, to which Eddie shrugged as he continued, looking away with a coolness that surely had to be for show, “Your apology could use some work, seeing as you couldn’t even say ‘sorry,’ but you were forgiven the second I opened that door.”

That last statement was shockingly honest and somehow a touch too vulnerable for your liking - it made you nervous, and you couldn’t say why. Was Eddie just being hyperbolic, saying that to make you feel better? Or was it the truth, could he have possibly been willing to forgive you just like that simply because you showed up on his doorstep? Both of those ideas made you apprehensive in vastly different ways.

With a quick shake of your head, you tried to pull yourself together, straightening your shoulders and wiping the vulnerable look from your face. You met Eddie’s kind eyes with as much coolness as you could muster, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that you were relieved with how this conversation had gone. There was a glint of amusement in Eddie’s face as he watched you, as if he knew exactly what was going through your head, as if he knew your calm demeanor was all for show.

Eddie looked down, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, “So long as you don’t drag me to that stupid homecoming, we’ll be alright.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at the suggestion, thankful that Eddie made the effort to break the tension in the room - you were done trying to be vulnerable, and it seemed that he could sense that, too.

“As if I’d let myself be the Carrie White of their shitty joke.” You gave Eddie a playful glance, catching the way his brow furrowed.

“Carrie, huh?”

You also gave him a look, “Yeah, you know - telekinetic chick who killed everyone at prom?”

The smile that graced Eddie’s lips was nearly infectious as he laughed with a shake of his head, “Oh, I know Carrie, I’m just surprised that you do - you don’t seem the horror type.”

You cross your arms teasingly - it was so easy to fall back into this pattern with Eddie, easy to bounce off each other. Admittedly, you missed it.

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter with a small smirk, to which Eddie gave you a challenging look.

“Well, it would help if you opened up a little more, princess.” The nickname rolled off Eddie’s tongue with ease, and it was a relief to hear it - that had to mean you really were forgiven, that he hadn't just said so to make you feel better. Even still, you narrowed your eyes, prompting Eddie to continue in his defense, “I know nothing about your hobbies, but you know practically all of mine.”

You looked him up and down once, “You know that I skate.”

Eddie rolled his eyes teasingly, although he sounded deathly serious as he said, “There’s clearly more to you than that.”

The sincerity in Eddie’s tone juxtaposed his playful look, giving you pause, making you nervous. You answered simply and with a dismissive shrug, hoping it didn't lead into some deeper conversation, “Guess that makes you the first person to notice.”

You turned away from Eddie to continue looking around, taking in the room as you debated whether or not you’d elaborate on your interests. Considering that Eddie made a good point about not knowing you well, you caved - after all, did you want him as a friend or not?

“I love horror movies.” You take a few steps towards a shelf filled with videos and cassettes, your eyes slowly looking over the titles, “Books, too, but the movies are way scarier, so they’re more fun.”

A few familiar horror titles sat on the shelf, causing you to grin and glance back at Eddie, who seemed to be watching you attentively. Realizing he was caught staring, he quickly righted himself and met your gaze, his curious smile growing. You could see in his face that questions were forming, that he probably wanted to ask what you liked about horror or what movie was your favorite. Expectantly, you turned to face him with an eager raise of your brow.

Eddie looked between your eyes for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to say first, finally nudging his chin towards the VHS collection on the shelf, “You pick a movie, I’ll order us a pizza?”

You couldn’t help but be surprised at the suggestion - for two days you didn’t speak a word to each other, but again you were reminded of just how effortless it was to go back to the way things were. You smiled in appreciation for Eddie’s ability to make anything easy like this.

As much as you loved the idea, you hesitated, “It’s getting kinda late…”

Eddie waved it off before you could say anything else, “So? My uncle won’t be back for hours, and I don’t think either of us has anything better going on.”

So, you nodded, eagerly turning your attention back to the small collection of movies on the shelf - you wondered which ones were Eddie’s and which were his uncle’s. Quickly, you settled on a movie that you were excited to see there, grabbing it from the shelf and spinning to face Eddie as he dialed the nearest pizza place. You felt like an excited child as you held up Videodrome for him to see. Again, Eddie appeared surprised, but didn’t get the chance to comment as he was greeted by someone on the other end of the call. He probably wouldn’t have guessed Cronenberg to be your taste in horror.

With the pizza ordered and the movie loaded into the VCR, you and Eddie settled on opposite ends of the couch. Within a minute of the movie starting, however, you couldn’t help yourself as you began to eagerly go on and on about how technically impressive the effects in this movie were. You weren’t sure how long you went on for, but after a while you realized you were going on a tangent, cutting yourself off as you looked at Eddie for the inevitable judgment to come. You’d grown used to your friends rolling their eyes or your mom telling you to stop talking about disgusting horror movies, but Eddie looked so… attentive? So interested to listen to what you were saying?

You looked back at the screen almost sheepishly, but you could still feel the burn of Eddie’s eyes watching you.

“You’re kind of a nerd.” He said with far too much glee, causing you to whip your mean gaze back to him; Eddie was smiling from ear-to-ear, clearly pleased with himself and his discovery of your hidden interest.

“I am not.” You scoff, trying not to grin back at him. Eddie leaned across the couch as if to emphasize his taunting, his eyes challenging as he stared at you.

“You just spent five minutes talking about how much you love to watch a fake head blow up - seems kinda nerdy.”

It felt as if no rift had ever formed between you two, as if you hadn’t just been awkwardly trying to apologize to him some fifteen minutes ago. Eddie just made it ridiculously easy to relax, to forget all the bullshit from the past few days.

You gave Eddie’s shoulder a playful shove, so he sat back up in his seat, that wicked grin still on his face, “What, don’t want to be lumped in with the rest of us?”

Despite trying to give Eddie a threatening look, you knew your eyes were betraying you - all of the menace in your expression was destroyed by the way your eyes blatantly shone with amusement. You had to look away again, otherwise you feared you might laugh.

“Liking horror doesn’t make me a nerd.” You insisted.

“No, but considering you made a whole speech about how impactful Cronenberg’s use of gore is, I wouldn’t call you a casual fan.” Eddie teased, and even without looking you knew just how big his grin was.

So, you kept your eyes trained on the screen, hoping to become absorbed in the movie as you tried to ignore the way Eddie was studying you. And it worked for at least a few minutes - you began to smile at the familiar film, attentively following the story development, all the while slowly forgetting about the eyes practically burning a hole in your skull.

But in his typical fashion, Eddie couldn’t stay quiet for too long.

“Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers?”

Without missing a beat, you looked back at Eddie, unable to hold your tongue on the debate. Your tone was perhaps a little snobby as you answered, “Michael, obviously.”

Again, Eddie grinned largely with a challenge in his eye, “‘Obviously?’”

Of course, you knew what he was doing - he was clearly trying to poke at you, but damn it, it was working. You couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk about movie slashers to a captive audience, even if said audience was likely going to keep egging you on.

You rolled your eyes, folding your legs up on the couch as you turned your body towards Eddie, “Jason isn’t scary.”

“Not scary? He and Michael are basically the same guy.” You pulled a face at the comment, noticing that Eddie seemed pleased with himself for getting you going on the subject.

“And I guess you think they’re also just like Bubba?” Eddie grinned wickedly, so you quickly reached over to smack his shoulder, “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Say what?”

You narrowed your eyes, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to debate your point. You took a deep breath before looking back towards the movie, “Michael is better, end of conversation.”

“I’m more of a Freddy guy myself.” Eddie taunts, clearly not done tormenting you. You shot him a look from the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of a response, trying to keep your attention on the movie instead. A minute later, Eddie chimed up again, “The Exorcist or the Omen?”

To that, you didn’t have as quick an answer, mulling it over for a moment before replying - when you answered with the Exorcist, Eddie couldn’t help but say that response was predictable.

So, it led you down the rabbit hole, Videodrome being totally forgotten in favor of debating your horror opinions. For every answer to Eddie’s questions, he had a counterargument - it didn’t matter whether or not you two agreed on something, he clearly just wanted to get you riled up. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you get excited about something, maybe he enjoyed the way you’d argue your case on characters you loved and hated.

When the pizza arrived, you raced Eddie to the door, paying for the food despite his protests, the pair of you clearly annoying the delivery driver who didn’t give a shit where the money came from so long as he got it. All through your meal, you two continued talking over the movie, which eventually reached its end and prompted Eddie to start playing another that you also wouldn’t pay any attention to.

As the night wore on, your debates eventually died down; your seat on the couch became increasingly more comfortable, and the shitty horror movie you had on was beginning to lull you to sleep. Considering how long your day - no, your whole week - had been, you were surprised it took this long for your exhaustion to set in. So, you slowly settled into the couch, progressively slumping into the cushions.

Seeing the tired look on your face, Eddie nudged you and insisted you lie down, and you were tired enough not to argue, resting on your side so you can continue watching the movie. You keep your legs curled up to avoid getting in Eddie’s space, but nonetheless your knees rest comfortable against his thigh. At some point between half awake and half asleep, you thought that maybe you felt his hand resting comfortably on your leg, but you were too tired to say for sure.

As the night wore on, you must have inevitably fallen asleep, because next thing you knew, you were being pulled out of a dream, a hand gently shaking your shoulder and Eddie’s far off voice encouraging you to wake up. You figured at first that the voice was just a part of your dream, but as the tone grew more clear and insistent, you were brought back to reality. Groggily, you blinked your eyes open with a confused glare - how long had you been out for? And what time was it?

Catching your eyes with his, the corner of Eddie’s mouth pulled back in a small grin, “Jesus, you sleep like the dead.”

A tired moan rumbled in your throat as your eyes narrowed. You tried to roll onto your other side as if you could somehow avoid Eddie that way, your words nonthreatening and heavy with sleep, “Fuck off…”

As Eddie sighed with annoyance, an unfamiliar huff of a laugh met your ears, but you weren’t nearly awake enough to even wonder who it belonged to. Eddie pulled at your shoulder so you couldn’t turn away from him, to which you whined again.

“No, you’re not sleeping on the couch, it’ll ruin your back.” Eddie insisted, teasingly pulling at your arm - if you weren’t still half asleep, it wouldn’t have annoyed you nearly as much as it did, “Come on, get up.”

You opened your harsh eyes again, knowing Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to be ignored. As your eyes adjusted, his face slowly came into focus, his hair haloed by the light of the TV; kneeling beside you, he was clearly trying to hide the amusement he found in your sleepy attitude.

The two of you stared at one another for a long minute as the fog slowly lifted from your brain, making you more and more aware of your surroundings. Your gaze drifted away from Eddie, noticing movement in the corner of your eye; turning in the direction of it, you made eye contact with a man who had to have been Eddie’s uncle. He quickly turned away, pretending to be preoccupied with something in the kitchen, as if that would give you and Eddie a measly sense of privacy.

With a deep yawn, you looked at Eddie again, begrudgingly accepting that you had to get up. You slowly rose into a seated position, your feet brushing Eddie’s leg as you moved to set them on the ground; he rose and took a step back to give you a little more space. Stretching your arms above your head and popping your neck, you looked between the two men, noticing that Eddie seemed to be somewhat sheepish, which made you curious. Was he embarrassed that this was how you and his uncle were meeting? Was it because he felt like you two were caught doing something wrong? Or was it something else entirely that influenced that expression on his face?

You sighed heavily as you rose to your feet, your face scrunching up a little as you looked around the room; your voice was still heavy with sleep as you asked, “What time is it? I have to go home.”

Eddie shook his head at the same moment that his uncle silently disappeared to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running drifting out from under the door; maybe he was trying to give you two a bit more privacy.

“You don’t have to go.” Eddie says in a surprisingly gentle tone, to which you furrow your brow, “It’s late and you're exhausted - just stay here tonight.”

You weakly tried to protest, although you were so tired that it was a relief to hear that Eddie wasn’t kicking you out in the wee hours of the morning, “I really shouldn’t.”

“You really should.” Eddie insisted, clearly not open to argument. Luckily for him, you accepted the response instantly, your head still too foggy to find a good enough reason to leave. So, you nod smally while trying to stifle another yawn.

Eddie points his hand in the direction of the bedroom, and you immediately accept the invitation, confidently heading that way as if you owned the damn place. You didn’t catch the tug of a smile that graced Eddie’s lips as he followed just a step behind you.

You entered the dark bedroom and all but collapsed onto the bed, hearing a slight laugh leave Eddie’s lips; at least he found it funny instead of rude, not that you were terribly concerned with that right now. No, the only thing on your mind at the moment was curling into the mattress and sleeping undisturbed for the rest of the night. You comfortably wrapped your arms around one of Eddie’s pillows, inhaling his lingering scent without considering what you were doing. 

“You gonna sleep in that?” Eddie teased, reminding you that you were still in the workout clothes that you wore for skating. Like a stubborn child unwilling to do a task, you grunted, sitting back up and trying to find Eddie in the dark. You caught his silhouette digging through what you assumed to be a pile of clothes, eventually pulling something out and tossing it in your direction. The t-shirt weakly hit you in the chest before falling into your lap, so you started to pull off your own soiled shirt, letting it fall forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Light still filtered into the room through the gap in the door, so you caught the way Eddie spun around to give you privacy just as you started to tug at your bra; you couldn’t help but smile, finding it funny as he pushed the door closed. After all, it was dark enough that he probably couldn’t see anything; and even if he could, it didn’t matter. Right?

Eddie kept himself preoccupied, returning his attention to the stack of clothes as you pulled his scratchy t-shirt over your head; thanks to the darkness of the room, you didn’t catch the way he glanced back at you curiously. Once you were comfortable, you lied back down and began to burrow in the blankets, pulling them over your head as you listened to Eddie strip out of his own clothes.

A few moments later, one of the blankets was being yanked from the bed; you greedily tried to grab it before it was gone, but to no avail, which prompted you to poke your head out from the cocoon you’d built. You couldn’t quite find Eddie in the dark, but you nonetheless furrowed your brow in the direction you figured he was in.

“What are you doing?” You questioned groggily as your eyes began to adjust; you could now make out Eddie’s shadow as he appeared to turn to you.

“Sleeping on the floor.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, nudging things aside with his foot before dropping the blanket to the ground. As he leaned over the bed to grab a pillow, you rolled your eyes and reached out to nudge him, making contact with bare skin before shuffling over to make room on the small bed.

“Like hell you are.” You attempted to snuggle into your new position, but seeing Eddie awkwardly lingering prompted you to reach over and give his arm a quick tug, “Get the fuck in the bed, Munson.”

Eddie hesitated a moment longer, and although he couldn’t see it, you stared at him in amused scrutiny. With a huff, you threw aside the blankets and hit the mattress once for emphasis, “Don’t tell me you’re nervous to share a bed with a girl.”

You readjusted to face away from Eddie, wrapping your arms around your pillow again and burying your face in it, getting cozy almost instantly. Behind you, he sighed before his weight shifted the mattress; just from the feel of his movements, you knew Eddie was awkwardly trying to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile at how stiff he was - at this rate, he wasn’t going to get a wink of sleep.

“Stop worrying about it, Eddie.” You muttered gently, curling up in the blankets as if you were a cat lying in the sun. A big yawn escaped you as you felt Eddie shift a little, and you knew you’d be out like a light any minute now, “Try to get some sleep, okay?”Eddie hummed in acknowledgement, and despite his best efforts to keep his distance, you could still feel his body heat radiating near you. Smiling comfortably to yourself, you quickly began to doze off, barely catching Eddie’s whispered “Night, princess…” before you fell back into a deep sleep.

.

.

addt. Author's Note | I couldn't keep these two apart for even an entire chapter, so I hope their lil reconciliation was worth the wait!

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[novaursa]

Ashes of the Faithful

- Summary: After Faith of the Seven has sent an assassin to kill you, Maegor declares war against the gods.

- Pairing: niece!reader/Maegor I Targaryen

- Note: This story is part of Fire and Blood series, and it happens right after Fragile Hope. The masterlist is pinned to the top of my blog.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The flickering light of torches casts an eerie glow over the Great Hall, illuminating the black banners emblazoned with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. The air buzzes with the voices of lords and ladies gathered to celebrate Maegor’s victories and his long-sought return to the Iron Throne. A bitter smile plays across your lips as you shift your hand to rest protectively over your stomach, feeling the soft, burgeoning weight there—the promise of Maegor’s heir. After years of separation, of exile and whispered prayers in the cold halls of Dragonstone, you’ve finally returned to his side, bound by his unbreakable will. Maegor’s unwavering gaze follows you as you rise to mingle with the guests, his expression one of fierce pride and possessiveness.

The evening wears on, and you share fleeting glances with your husband from across the hall, silently marveling at the sheer force he exudes even from a distance. Though your union remains contested by the Faith, and many openly despise him, none would dare deny the power Maegor wields. The hall quiets as he rises to make a toast, raising a goblet of wine.

"To House Targaryen, unbroken and bound by blood and fire," he declares, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that commands attention. "And to my queen, who carries our future within her.”

The guests raise their goblets, voices mingling in a chorus, though you can see the apprehension in some eyes, the covert glances exchanged by certain highborn lords and pious knights, wary of the Faith's condemnation.

As the applause fades, you make your way toward the shadows for a brief respite from the crowd, grateful for a moment to gather your breath. But in the next heartbeat, the chill of steel presses against your throat, and you realize—too late—what is happening. The assailant’s voice is a venomous hiss in your ear, dripping with fervent conviction.

“Your unholy union will end here, for the gods do not suffer blasphemy.”

You struggle, reaching instinctively to shield the precious life growing within you, but the assassin’s grip is unyielding. A muffled shout erupts somewhere in the hall, and the clash of steel on steel fills the air. In the chaos, you’re suddenly yanked backward as Maegor’s knights descend upon the attacker. The glint of Maegor’s own sword, Blackfyre, catches the torchlight as he strides forward, his face a mask of pure, unrestrained fury.

His voice is a low snarl. “Who sent you?”

The assassin glares defiantly, his eyes bright with fanatical zeal as he spits, "The Faith will never bless your bastard line."

The words are met with the brutal swipe of Maegor’s fist, sending the man sprawling. Maegor’s rage is unmistakable, a tempest waiting to be unleashed. He barely spares a glance for the blood pooling beneath the assassin as his gaze shifts to you, his voice softening, though the raw intensity remains.

"Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, reaching a trembling hand toward him. "Our child… I feared…"

He clasps your hand in his, grounding you with the weight of his presence. “No one will dare harm you again,” he promises, his tone as unyielding as iron. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a rare display of tenderness that only you are allowed to see, and in his eyes, you catch a glimpse of the lengths he would go to keep that vow.

The assassin, barely conscious, is dragged upright by Maegor’s guards. Without hesitation, Maegor approaches, towering over the man like an avenging shadow. “Tell me the names of those who sent you,” he demands.

When the man remains silent, defiance flickering in his gaze, Maegor lifts his sword. Blackfyre’s blade gleams ominously in the torchlight, and his words are laced with icy finality. “If the Faith dares to send another of your kind, I will burn their septs to the ground. And you will be the first to watch.”

A ripple of fear passes through the onlookers, their expressions a mix of awe and terror as they watch their king take vengeance. Maegor turns to you, his voice softer. "Return to your chambers, Y/N. I will handle this."

Though you hesitate, knowing the bloodshed to come, you nod. "I trust you, my king," you whisper, pressing a hand to his cheek before leaving.

In your chambers, guarded on all sides, you try to steady your breathing. The shadows outside flicker, signaling the torches carried by men as they move through the halls. Soon, shouts echo from the square below, where you know Maegor has gathered his court to witness the assassin’s fate, a display meant to instill fear in any who would challenge his claim—or threaten his family.

As you sit, the quiet hum of life within you reassures you. Whatever comes, you and your child are shielded by the relentless force of Maegor’s love, a love bound in fire and forged through blood.

Hours later, he returns, smelling faintly of smoke and steel, his eyes softening when they meet yours. "It is done," he murmurs, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and conviction.

You reach for him, pulling him close, and whisper, "Thank you, Maegor. For us… and for our child."

He presses his lips to your forehead, a rare, almost reverent gesture. "No one will take you from me, Y/N. Not the Faith, not the realm. None can come between us."

And in that moment, beneath the pale moonlight, you believe him.

The dawn breaks in a haze of gray clouds, but for you, the morning feels no less ominous. You watch from a high window in Maegor’s hall as Balerion, the Black Dread, spreads his wings wide across the sky, casting an enormous shadow over the land. Maegor’s resolve is unshakable, and he has vowed that the Faith will answer for their transgressions. He has given orders, brief and absolute, his voice carrying the weight of his fury. None could miss the look in his eyes—the wildfire rage that demanded to be sated.

As he prepares to mount Balerion, he approaches you, his gloved hand reaching out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes, dark and relentless, seem to devour you.

“This realm has mocked me for the last time, Y/N,” he says, his tone simmering with a quiet rage that sends a chill through you. “They do not know loyalty or respect; they only know fear. I will make them remember it.”

You rest a hand over your belly protectively, feeling the faint stir within you, as if the child growing there senses the dread. “And the Starry Sept?” you ask quietly, knowing all too well what its destruction would mean, not only for the Faith but also for the Hightower family—his late wife’s kin.

His lips twist into a cruel smile. “That den of false gods and hypocrites? It shall be the first to burn. None will dare to insult my queen again.”

You nod, feeling an odd mixture of fear and awe as you stand beside him. The Maegor before you is no longer just a man—he is a storm incarnate, a maelstrom of fury bound to a creature of fire and shadow. “They will see Balerion’s flame from miles away,” you murmur, almost to yourself.

He leans in, his hand settling over yours on your stomach, where his heir grows. “I do this for you and for our child. So you will live without fear. So our child will not know a world that questions his right.”

You swallow, feeling the intensity of his words and knowing that, in his twisted way, Maegor does love you deeply—perhaps as much as he can love anything. “Come back to me,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his. “Return to us, Maegor.”

He gives you a rare, almost tender smile, before pulling away, the steel in his eyes returning. “Wait for me, Y/N,” he says, his voice firm. “By the time the moon rises, the Faith will feel the fire of House Targaryen.”

With that, he mounts Balerion, and you watch as they rise into the sky, becoming a dark silhouette against the dawn. The moment they disappear over the horizon, you turn back into the hall, nerves tingling with the knowledge of the destruction to come.

The Starry Sept in Oldtown stands proud as it always has, a beacon of the Faith’s ancient power. Its towering walls, adorned with stars and golden trimmings, seem almost untouched by the passage of time, a testament to its sanctity. The Faith Militant, dressed in their glinting silver armor, stand guard outside, their hands resting on the pommels of their swords.

And then, a shadow falls over Oldtown.

The people in the streets look up, gasping, children screaming as they behold the black shape in the sky, his massive wings blotting out the sun. The bells of the Starry Sept toll, signaling a warning, but it is already too late. Balerion lands with a bone-rattling impact, his claws digging into the earth just outside the grand doors of the sept. Dust and debris fly as the ground trembles beneath his weight. The Faith Militant immediately raise their shields and swords, but they are little more than ants to the dragon that towers over them.

Maegor, seated upon Balerion’s back, calls out, his voice echoing like thunder through the city. “I am Maegor Targaryen, your rightful king! And I declare the Faith Militant enemies of the realm!”

There is a murmur of defiance from the knights below, and one of the septons dares to raise his voice. “You blaspheme, Maegor! The gods themselves deny your union. You will face judgment!”

Maegor lets out a short, humorless laugh, glancing down at the man with disdain. “Then let your gods protect you from my wrath.” He raises his arm, signaling to Balerion.

With a rumbling growl that reverberates through the stone walls, Balerion opens his jaws, and a torrent of fire bursts forth, consuming the sept’s doors in an instant. The flame spreads with terrifying speed, licking up the stone walls and turning them to blackened, smoking ruin. The Faith Militant try to flee, but Balerion’s fire is relentless, consuming them as they run, their silver armor melting, the flesh beneath charring to bone.

The people of Oldtown watch in horror from the streets and rooftops, their faces pale, their voices strangled with fear. Maegor’s voice rises above the roar of the flames, clear and unyielding.

“This is what happens to those who defy the Crown,” he shouts, his voice filled with the fury of a man wronged for too long. “To those who think they can take my queen from me.”

The sept’s grand structure crumbles as the fire sears through wood, stone, and glass alike. The stained glass windows, depicting scenes of saints and the Seven, shatter in the intense heat, raining shards upon the Faith Militant and those unfortunate enough to be nearby. Balerion’s fire leaves no sanctuary, no corner of the sept untouched. Statues of the gods melt under the flames, the Seven themselves reduced to ash and rubble, as if even they cannot withstand Maegor’s wrath.

From his perch atop Balerion, Maegor watches with an unsettling satisfaction. His expression is grim, merciless, as he surveys the destruction below. The High Septon himself, garbed in his white and gold robes, flees the Starry Sept, clutching a holy tome to his chest as though it might shield him from the flames. Maegor’s gaze locks onto him, his mouth twisting into a sneer.

“You, who claim to be closest to the gods, will not escape their punishment,” Maegor calls, his voice carrying across the square.

The High Septon falls to his knees, raising his trembling hands in a plea. “Spare me, Your Grace! I have served the gods faithfully—I am but their humble servant!”

Maegor’s face hardens, the glint in his eyes cold and unfeeling. “Your Faith sent assassins after my queen, my child,” he growls. “You will burn for that.”

With another signal, Balerion releases another torrent of fire, engulfing the High Septon in a scorching blaze. His screams echo through Oldtown, a terrible symphony of agony that seems to reach even the highest towers of the Hightower itself. The onlookers, paralyzed by fear, watch as the flames consume the last remnants of the Starry Sept and those who served within it. The High Septon’s cries fall silent, leaving only the crackling of fire and the distant sobbing of townsfolk horrified by the display of power.

As the Starry Sept collapses in a smoldering heap, Maegor directs Balerion to soar higher, circling the ruined city below. His gaze sweeps over the Hightower, a place where he once lived when he took a wife from among their daughters—a wife who dared to defy his queen, to question the place of Y/N at his side. Her blood, like that of the septons below, was shed without hesitation. Maegor has always ensured that no voice rises above his own, not even those of the gods.

But now, his voice rings out again across Oldtown, a decree that none can ignore.

“Let it be known throughout the realm,” he declares, “that the Faith Militant and any who align themselves with the false righteousness of the gods shall face the same fate. No man, no god, no Septon shall question the rule of House Targaryen or my right to claim my queen.”

The words echo in the silence, seared into the minds of all who listen, the weight of them settling upon the city like a brand. And then, with a final glance down at the burning ruin below, Maegor commands Balerion to rise, leaving a trail of smoke and ash in their wake.

Hours later, Maegor returns to the capital, his armor and cloak singed, his face streaked with soot but unbowed. You wait for him at the entrance, heart pounding, watching as he dismounts Balerion and strides toward you, his gaze hard and impenetrable. Yet, as he nears, that hardness softens, if only slightly, as his eyes meet yours.

Without a word, you reach for him, pressing a hand to his chest, feeling the heat still radiating from his armor. “You’ve done it, then,” you murmur, barely above a whisper.

He nods, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders, his grip firm but protective. “No one will dare threaten you again. They have seen what becomes of those who defy us.”

You meet his gaze, searching for the man beneath the rage, the one who has risked everything for you, who will stop at nothing to secure the life of the child growing within you. “And the Faith? Will they stop?”

His jaw tightens, and his voice lowers, almost gentle but carrying a fierce undercurrent. “If they don’t, I will burn every sept in the Seven Kingdoms until not a single one remains.” His hand slips to your belly, resting there possessively. “They will never again come close to you or our child.”

You nod, feeling the weight of his promise, the depth of his wrath. Maegor may be feared, hated even, but in his own brutal, unyielding way, he is yours, and he will keep you safe no matter the cost.

He steps back, exhaling, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tonight, let the realm know that House Targaryen’s fire is boundless,” he says, his voice softer now, almost a murmur. “I will destroy all who oppose us. And in time, they will kneel, knowing they have no choice.”

In that moment, you feel a surge of fierce pride, not only in Maegor’s power but in his loyalty, however ruthless. With him, you will carve a place in this unforgiving world for your child, even if it must be forged in flame and blood.

“Then let them see,” you reply, matching his intensity, feeling the strength of his determination coursing through you. “We will stand together, and the realm will learn to fear us.”

Maegor’s hand tightens over yours, a silent vow exchanged between the two of you. And as he pulls you close, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, you know that whatever comes next, you will face it together—bound by blood, fire, and an unbreakable loyalty that no god or mortal can shatter.