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verniferae · 1 year ago

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⸻ slow, drowsy mornings. [ 𝐈 ] ✦ hsr.

In both your and his lines of work, mornings where you can take your time getting out of bed and prepare for the day ahead at your own leisure are few and far between. So, when presented with the rare opportunity of a respite, a momentous lull gracing your frenetic everyday comings and goings, how do you start your well-deserved time off?

includes: gepard landau, jing yuan. wordcount: 3806 ( gepard ); 3758 ( jing yuan ). notes: writing practice, character study, lore study & spoilers ( mostly in jing yuan’s part ). etc.: trying to shake off the rust after a three year break from writing... and to ease back into my usual writing style, lol. also it took me more than a month to finish writing these. snail-paced writing should be a talent.

✧ 𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐔.

Gepard is a creature of habit.

That, in itself, is a matter of habit, a testament to his upbringing – from his earliest days as a timid child hiding behind his sister as he’s chastised by their austere father, to an adolescence spent in the desolate frozen plains to uphold his Oath to Qlipoth and, thus, his duty as a Landau, unto an adulthood filled with empty accolades and ever-waning hope in a dying world. In those dismal days, it was all he could do to hold steadfast onto his beliefs—not as a child of Landau, nor as the famed Captain of the Silvermane Guards, but simply as ‘Gepard’.

Gepard, the child who had to mature a little too fast, who had to take up arms at the age most other children are still learning to read and write. Gepard, the boy who had to fill shoes far too big for one as young as himself, who had known this and still wanted to, if only to relieve some of the burden from his sister’s shoulders. Gepard, the man who had yearned, and still yearns, for normalcy, for a life where duty and obligation and tradition didn’t break his family apart, a life where he doesn’t have to fear a tomorrow that might never come.

A tomorrow that he now knows will never come, for it has been averted through the selfless sacrifice of the late Supreme Guardian.

And yet, what sterile rationality unfailingly acknowledges, the wounded mind often struggles to understand.

So it is that Gepard is a creature of habit. He has spent decades of his life following a predetermined script of his own making, modified and perfected to allow for any sudden and unpredictable variables encroaching upon it. From his mealtimes to his personal training regimen, down to his patrol routes and waking and resting hours, as well as his alternating visits to his elder sister’s workshop and to the Landau Manor on his days off, or when time permits—he has spared no effort anticipating the worst, preparing for the day of Belobog’s inevitable fall.

So much so that, with the threat of extinction now vanquished, Gepard feels—off-balanced. Like the beaten earth he’s walked for twenty-odd years had suddenly given away to brittleness, and he’s just now learning how to find his footing again in order not to be swallowed by the gaping abyss, the opaque future ahead. The life he’d yearned for, all those years ago in his youth, as a mere Silvermane private, is finally within his reach and yet further than it has ever been before. Because, for all that annihilation has been averted, what he truly sought was something beyond the confines of honour and duty, an idyllic future that will ever be beyond his means.

But that is neither here nor there.

As always, Gepard wakes with the sun, just as the day’s first threads of light gently spill into your shared room and illuminate the surroundings in a cold morning hue. You’re huddled by his side, as you always seem to do in your sleep, a sight for sore eyes—your hair in disarray, one too many crease marks on your cheek, curled under the heaviest quilt you could manage to have commissioned to combat what, in your opinion, is the coldest time of the year, despite the Eternal Freeze having long since erased any concept of seasonal cycles that might have existed in times long gone. As always, Gepard rises from bed first to prepare for the day ahead, even though it is a rest day for him as much as it is for you. And, as always, Gepard carefully disentangles himself from you, albeit begrudgingly, and tucks you back in into what you’ve once ( good-humouredly, you had hastily assured him ) called a blanket wrap of doom—because, while incredibly comfortable, it is immensely difficult to get out of without aid.

He manages a wry smile at the memory, a fond recollection from the days when you’d first moved in together and were still trying to learn how to manoeuvre around one another in a context far less chaotic than a battlefield, and far less formal than the tall and imposing staterooms of Qlipoth Fort. Now, however, it comes like second nature, as though there had never once been a time where it was anything but. A hand reaches out, delicately, his knuckles gently brushing aside tufts of unruly hair from the space above your brow; in their wake, he leaves the softest of kisses, a daily reminder of his profound affection for you. As always, you stir, but do not wake – and as always, the ghost of a smile faintly curves the corners of your lips, as though, even in deep slumber, you could recognise his touch and his devotion to you at once, even blind.

With a final, lingering, longing glance at your peaceful sleeping expression, he rises from bed at last and begins his preparations.

When he steps out of the sanctuary of your home, dressed in civilian clothes he seldom has the luxury of seeing on himself, it is to the familiar bite of morning frost upon his skin, and to the strange feeling of hoar saturating through the thick layers of clothes and settling deep within his bones. It reminds him of childhood, of a time before uniforms made of heavy cloth and bulky Geomarrow armour began substituting silk and velvet and wool—of a time before he came to find the frigid winds buffeting the Restricted Zone more comforting than the warmth of his childhood home, the silence blanketing the desolate snow plains a better companion than the lingering unease seeping through every corner of the manor in the days immediately following his sister’s estrangement.

Gepard lets out a breath, watches as it condenses white in the cold air and then dissipates under the dusty light of old street lamps. The heavy door behind him closes shut with a final creak, and Gepard ventures forth into the grey morning, feeble sunlight barely beginning to cut through the shroud of vapour with its pillars of light. With a thick stack of papers held securely in his arms, his first destination is, as usual, Qlipoth Fort. The newly appointed Supreme Guardian will surely chastise him for coming in on one of his rare days off, but that is a bridge he will cross once the time comes—for now, he is simply content to amble along the well-worn path from his home towards the city centre with different, less guarded eyes surveying his surroundings.

As the Captain, all he could focus on as he marched down the streets in his uniform, stark blue and white against the muted beiges of the buildings, was how to best preserve the safety of Belobog’s citizens and the fragile peace within. Scarcely did he ever stop to observe the world around him for anything more than a moment, mind and body alike perpetually focused on the next imminent battle and the countless losses that will inevitably follow to pay his surroundings any more heed than necessary—like a man touched by grief and death and tragedy from a much too young age to properly feel any sense of belonging within the confines of the city, an outsider amongst the very people he’d sworn to protect all those years ago.

But as Gepard – as the young child whose father forbade from ever interacting with the common people again, and as the same child who had yearned to hear stories about Belobog’s past even his tutors were ignorant of – he is not constrained by a Captain’s duties, or a Landau’s oath.

As Gepard, there is no invisible boundary he has to take care not to cross, no etiquette he has the obligation to observe. And during the years he’s spent as your Gepard ( flawed, kind, tormented Gepard ), he’s slowly learned there is actually very little he needs to hold back from doing. Whether it be sitting on one of the many benches scattered throughout the city to watch as its inhabitants pass him by, or joining the small group of children crowding around Pela in front of the Everwinter Monument, sharing their eagerness to hear stories about their world, or even simply exchanging a few words with the people he’s always just considered mere civilians before then—little by little, the shadows of his father’s influence that always seemed to claw at his heart had begun to wane, replaced by something softer and warmer, something more understanding, perhaps even forgiving.

Still, old habits are hard to break.

Yet, for your sake, he will try.

By the time he reaches the heart of the Administrative District, the morning brume has already begun to lift, dispersed by the combined effort of sunlight and of the burning heaters coming to life at dawn. He nods in greeting at a handful of Silvermane Guards on morning patrol duty who’ve stopped to salute their captain, and lingers to exchange some pleasantries with more high-ranked ones regarding the focus of future military campaigns, now that the source of the Eternal Freeze has been eradicated. Some of those more familiar with him take the chance to poke fun at him—“Only Captain Gepard would find it in himself to wake up as early as usual on a day off, just to deliver some paperwork!” they jest, and the statement is met by said captain with a helpless smile and a fond shake of his head, which in turn rouses a short bout of hearty laughter from his soldiers. They bid their goodbyes, and Gepard marches on.

As expected, he is met with much of the same sentiment when he steps into Qlipoth Fort, within the confines of the Supreme Guardian’s office. Bronya tears her gaze away from the countless papers littering her desk only for it to fall on more of them in his arms, and when she meets his eyes it’s with a grimace so faint and so swiftly replaced by her usual controlled expression that, if he were any less familiar with her, he would have thought the work of his imagination. Gepard has weathered worse, so he doesn’t let that obvious show of disapproval deter him from approaching her and her workspace.

Bronya sighs, a hand kneading her brow as if preemptively soothing an impending headache. “Captain Gepard…” She begins, taking the stack of paperwork from his hands to quickly glance at it and confirm her suspicions—it is, indeed, the documentation she’s entrusted to you some days prior, which she had made abundantly clear was not urgent and that, at the very least, could have waited until after your day off. “Between the three of us, I have a hard time deciding who is more of a workaholic.”

“We are both merely striving to alleviate your worries, Lady Bronya,” he says, and he retreats a few steps to put some space between them—a respectable distance more fitting for their roles as ruler and subject rather than friends, though it only comes off as incredibly silly with him out of his uniform and her not as domineering and solemn as she is in public. “Some of us more so than others.”

Gepard offers her a wry smile then, recalling your figure from yesternight as you stubbornly toiled through the documents, hunched over the escritoire with only the suffused orange lamplight keeping you company, until way past any reasonable bedtime. The young Supreme Guardian heaves another sigh, but even she cannot hide the slightest upwards turn of her lips at the implications in Gepard’s words.

Bronya arranges the new additions to her workload in a neat pile far away from the chaos that has overtaken her main working space, then wordlessly dismisses Gepard with a pointed stare—one that he knows is a veiled warning not to step into Qlipoth Fort again until tomorrow. Just as wordlessly, he bows slightly and takes his leave, just as he’s done countless times before for a different Guardian, though in far less amicable circumstances, and for his austere father, when he was far younger and far less sure of himself than he is now.

When he steps outside again, it is to a much more bustling city, the streets of the Administrative District gradually growing busier as its inhabitants awaken and breathe life into their surroundings simply by existing. Gepard glances at the sky, makes a note of the sun's position in it—he should still have plenty more time before you awaken from your slumber. It’s still early enough that the bakery across the Goethe Hotel has yet to run out of your favourite pastries, so that will be his first stop on his way home. Then, he recalls you musing to yourself, some days ago, about having to replace the flowers in some of the vases at the entrance, together with some other household necessities you’d both forgotten to replace in light of recent events…

His mental checklist complete, Gepard ventures forth on another mission—only, this time, his final destination is home, back by your side.

You’ve just barely begun stirring from your languor when he shuffles back into your shared space, a steaming mug of your favourite hot beverage in one hand and a fresh change of clothes ( that you’ve forgotten in the drier the night prior, it seems ) in the other. The mattress dips as he settles at its very edge, setting the mug on the nightstand and chuckling quietly at the deep furrow of your brows as you try, in vain, to turn away from the ever-so-offending rays of sunlight shining insistently on your visage, prying you from the cradle of sleep. You groan when that proves unsuccessful, eyes still stubbornly squeezed shut.

“Not feeling like getting up yet?” Comes his question at last, voice laced with fondness and a hint of exasperated amusement. In response, you burrow deeper into the quilt, until nothing discernible is left of you other than messy strands of hair splayed across the pillow and over the comforter.

Gepard indulges you for a handful of heartbeats, but ultimately has to stand his ground. After all, there’s the rapidly cooling mug of your morning kickstarter on one side, and the promise of a rare breakfast together on the other.

“I don’t mind letting you sleep in a little more, but I don’t believe Pela will quite appreciate tardiness,” a pause, soon followed by thoughtful humming. “Besides, you don’t really have the heart to make Serval and Lynx wait out in the cold for us, do you?”

The violent speed at which you attempt to spring up into a sitting position at the mere mention of his sisters’ names would probably greatly concern the average person, but not Gepard. He’s wise enough ( accustomed enough ) to lean out of your trajectory, lest you be rudely forced awake by a headbutt first thing in the morning, and his hands reach out to halt your momentum before the impending wave of dizziness can take over. You fall into his arms, another muffled, miserable groan crawling its way out of your throat.

“Ugh… My head feels like it’s getting split open…”

Gepard’s eyes soften ever so imperceptibly, holding you closer to his chest and rearranging your position so that he can begin unravelling the so-called ‘blanket wrap of doom’ and extricate you from its evil clutches. “Then perhaps you should’ve heeded my words and gone to sleep earlier, instead of powering through the paperwork until late.”

Unfortunately freed from the protection of your beloved quilt, you first squint at the bright light assaulting your poor, defenceless eyes, then, in a fit of bad decision making, straight at the wide windows from whence said light comes, and then you linger at the ornate patterns adorning the ceiling of your bedroom—finally, after you’ve had your fill of your pretence at daydreaming, your gaze falls onto your lover, and it takes all the energy you can muster while being barely awake to keep your offended mien from crumbling away into a teasing smile.

“Excuse me?” You begin, trying to keep your voice as unwavering as you hope your expression is. Gepard simply shakes his head, used to and terribly fond of your antics in equal measure, and he simply, wordlessly hands you your mug. You take it with a thankful smile, a content sigh leaving your lips as just one sip warms you right up, but it soon falls back to the same faux frown as before. You cough in an attempt to recompose yourself, decidedly ignoring Gepard’s ill-contained snort, and intrepidly continue on your improvised spiel under the amused eyes of one Silvermane Captain.

“I don’t think Mr. Captain of the Silvermane Guards, Gepard Landau, who wakes up at dawn even on a day off simply because of habit, is qualified enough to harangue me over work ethics.”

You pin him with a pointed stare, an index finger poking his cheek, but Gepard simply answers by grasping your offending hand and bringing it to his lips for one of his usual fleeting baisemains. He leans into your touch, then, your palm gently cradling the side of his visage you were poking insistently just mere heartbeats earlier, his own hand over yours.

“Alright, you got me,” he sighs in mock defeat, unable to hide the widening smile shattering any pretence of his poor attempt at an apology. You hide your own grin with the aid of your mug, occasionally sipping on the now lukewarm drink, and a giggle escapes you when Gepard presses his lips to your temple. A little guiltily, he doesn’t mention his little morning escapade to hand those very papers to the Supreme Guardian. A little because you’d eventually figure it out either way, and a little because, while he finds your pout unfairly endearing, he adores your smile much more – and he’d much rather deal with the consequences of his omission later in the day than now.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you then, neither in any particular hurry in spite of what Gepard may have tried ( and failed, bless his soul ) to instil in you—after all, while true that you’ve made plans to spend time with the Landau sisters and Pela, it is not until early afternoon that you’ve arranged for everyone to meet. Even in your simultaneously sleep-addled and sleep-deprived state first thing in the morning, you are not so easily deceived, just as Gepard is not so easily swayed once his mind settles on something. Some would call him inflexible, which rings undoubtedly true at times, but you know better. Somehow, someway, you’ve always known him better than he seems to know himself.

You’ve seen him doubt himself and his purpose, seen as his inner conflict made him question all that he knew, all that he stood for. You’ve seen how hard he’s tried to reconcile his father and his older sister in the months immediately following their fallout, despite knowing it would be futile without the people themselves’ willingness to compromise and understand the other. And you’ve seen how, in the face of so much death and desolation and despair in a world besieged by eternal frost, he became, together with the Silvermane Guards he leads, a beacon of hope for the people of Belobog. An impenetrable bulwark, the aegis of salvation.

Presented with a difficult decision, Gepard will always choose to uphold his Oath over all else—to protect, to preserve, even at the cost of his own life. Such is the duty of a Landau. Of an Architect.

But you have never resented him for that, never turned your back to him, instead offering quiet comfort and understanding, a steadfast and reassuring presence on those nights he felt his most vulnerable; your warmth and embrace a most effective remedy to the doubts and thoughts that plague him, even now. And for that, for the solace and peace that you unfailingly instil in him, Gepard could not be more grateful. He never fails to prove it to you, either—throughout your many years together, both as a way to show his love and devotion and as a way to make up for the long weeks he has to spend away from you, deployed on the frontlines, he’s always made sure to repay your thoughtfulness twofold, with attentive gestures to lighten your daily worries and small gifts to lift your spirits. This morning is no different.

“I’ve made a quick trip to your favourite bakery while you were sleeping,” he says, breaking the peaceful silence, and he doesn’t bother suppressing the soft chuckle that escapes him when your eyes flicker back to him with a renewed twinkle in them. “How about we get started on breakfast?”

Your answer comes wordlessly; in a series of fluid motions, you swiftly disentangle your limbs from his and grab hold of your well-loved quilt. Gepard follows suit, familiar with your modus operandi, and steps aside to let you work your magic as you remake the bed in hardly any time at all, making it look effortless. Then, with that done, you turn to him again, offering your empty mug in exchange for the set of clothes still carefully held in his hands. Gepard shakes his head at your antics, but ultimately makes no argument against it.

The barter is done, and you waltz into the washroom to change and freshen up with a spring in your step. And as Gepard’s eyes linger a little bit longer on the spot you were just occupying even after you’ve disappeared behind the heavy mahogany door, a sudden, passing thought gains clarity at the forefront of his mind.

With the threat of the Stellaron gone, there will be many more mornings like this one. Mornings where he doesn’t have to leave you behind, nestled in the safety of the city, with no guarantee that he’ll return alive to see your smile again. Mornings where he rises at dawn not to patrol the city’s outer perimeters for dangers, nor to confirm the statuses of his troops, but to buy your favourite kind of pastries at the bakery near the Goethe Hotel before they sell out, and to replace the flowers in your home with fresh ones he’s bought from the Eversummer Florist on his way back.

Most of all, mornings where he can be there when you wake up, and where he and you can get ready for the day together.

Gepard exhales, a muted sound that seems to reverberate in the now empty bed chambers. With a final glance at his surroundings, running a mental checklist to confirm everything is in order, he begins making his way towards the kitchen at last—mug in hand, and a tender smile brightening his usually stoic façade.

Perhaps, he can finally allow himself to breathe a little easier.

✧ 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍.

Immortality breeds indolence.

Indolence breeds stagnation.

And to a long life species, stagnation is no different to oblivion, for it is then that the curse of the mara begins to grow and attach its roots to its victims—an insidious, invisible enemy that even the most technologically advanced weapon devised by the Artisanship Commission is unable to eradicate, and one that even the strongest and wisest of warriors will eventually, inevitably fall prey to.

This, Jing Yuan acknowledges solemnly, was forced to, all those centuries past, as he had to watch, powerless, as his master gradually and wretchedly lost herself to the selfsame madness that took hold of innumerable others before her, transforming them into senseless abominations beyond recognition for whom only verdict, final judgement, and ultimate mercy was ( still is ) and could only be extermination.

A disease that steadily blurs one’s recollections until nothing but anguish remains in their stead, a blood parasite that feeds onto its host’s torment at their lost ego, waning sense of self, and vanishing memories and harnesses it to its whim, until what once was human has been reshaped into a grotesque stumbling simulacrum of life and made vessel of mutiny and delirium and bloodshed. Such is the nature of the mara, and of the gift of immortality that was bestowed upon their forebears by the Plagues Author more than eight millennia past.

Only when confronted with the consequences of their greed do humans finally begin to reflect and repent for their ill-fated shortcomings. And it is only when their selfishness brings about disaster that they at last realise the utter foolishness of their pursuits, and begin to beg for forgiveness to any higher entity that might listen to their wretched pleas. Jing Yuan has lived enough centuries to know this to be true, without any shadow of uncertainty — he has seen it in the eyes of criminals, begging and imploring not out of any genuine apology, but simply regretful they got caught; he’s seen it reflected in the faces of species that have newly attained immortality, their expressions twisted by abject terror as their life is rendered naught with an effortless swing of his blade; and he’s read it, seen it in his own people, in the ancestors that led to the Xianzhou Alliance becoming an entity that exists solely to extirpate the turpitude wrought unto existence by the Abundance.

Jing Yuan is acutely aware of what he must do, of the duty he must fulfil. As a Cloud Knight, as a General, and as the holder of the seat of the Divine Foresight. His is a burden that he alone must shoulder, just as the ones before him did, and as countless others after him will.

Days, months and years blur together in the life of a long-lived species. Mortal existence is like a limpid river flowing incessantly towards its promised estuary, spurred on by the assurance of the eventual end to its long journey – it matters not what manner of debris its currents pick up over the course of its travels, for its waters will ever stay unstained, untempered by the filth of sin. The Xianzhou natives, blinded by the golden fruits of temptation, willingly precluded themselves such peaceful fate and chose, instead, to shatter the absolute laws of the Heavens in their myopic arrogance.

Their descendants are thus paying the price of their forefathers’ error. Through the Three Sufferings, across hostile stellar systems, enduring ruthless civil wars and horrific alien entities alike in an endless pilgrimage of repentance under the salvation wrought to them by the gaze of the Reignbow Arbiter, they have withstood millennia of tribulations to reach a tenuous peace at last. Peace that, in no small part, has been won through the Divine Foresight’s efforts.

Since the day he has taken office, Jing Yuan has spent every waking moment protecting, overseeing, guiding, never resting. Toiling alone in a place unseen by most, he found quiet companionship in books and sound counsel in his starchess board and pieces, playing against fictitious and nebulous opponents far above his calibre—all in order to temper his mind, turn it into a blade with an impossibly sharp edge, just so that he might rout his real opponents long before they can have any chance to become perilous enough to threaten the Alliance. Throughout all that – or rather, despite all that – he’s somehow gained the title of the Dozing General.

Though, he supposes some of the fault does lie in himself, and in his tendency to nod off in public most infamously. As a rebellious child who defied his parents’ wishes for a life as far removed from warfare as sun and moon are, simply out of a juvenile wish to carve out his future with his own hands and through his own means, Jing Yuan has long since gotten used to subverting any and all expectations others may happen to thrust upon him. They may mock him behind closed quarters, but such matters are scarcely ever worth in-depth scrutiny: for the ones lacking are them, and the one tirelessly travailing is him.

Regardless, Jing Yuan has always been of the opinion that if one’s already been affixed with a descriptive epithet, even if not of the particularly flattering sort, then they should at the very least act the part. It only stands to reason, then, that he should live up to the high regard those snide remarks reserve for him. That, and it does him no harm—albeit this harmless mischief of his does earn him your pointed, reproachful, all-withering stare every now and then.

This morning being one such occasion. Uncommon as they are, days where there are no time constraints fettering him to his countless duties and neverending papers set the perfect stage for his silly ploys of make-believe.

Jing Yuan stirs, a soundless yawn slipping past his lips as his eyes blink open with an ease unbefitting someone who’s supposedly only just woken up. His head lolls to the side, towards the world beyond the confines of his home, and his mouth quirks up in a lazy show of self-satisfaction when he’s greeted with blinding sunlight. Outside the wide traditional-style circular window, the artificial sun employed by the Luofu has just reached its zenith, hanging high in the impossibly, and equally as artificial, blue sky. It is but a means of approximate timekeeping, but even the basest of creatures would be unable to mistake the exceedingly late hour.

Unhurried and utterly unbothered, Jing Yuan languidly rearranges his slumber-laden limbs into a more believable sleeping position in anticipation of your arrival, fighting back the amused smile threatening to betray his carefully crafted act at the mere thought of the exasperated furrow of your brows and the unsurprised, but still chagrined, grimace he will surely find on your visage as you slowly come to the realisation that he has yet to rise from bed—at midday, no less. Him, one of the Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Hexafleet, current holder of the Seat of Divine Foresight, someone looked up to by all in the Alliance, sleeping in despite being aware of the hearsay being spread among the Luofu populace. The scandal of it all.

And he knows he doesn’t have to wait too long. He’s gotten quite familiar with your schedule over the decades you’ve been together, after all, and it would be a blemish on his otherwise spotless repute as the Divine Foresight should he be found remiss in his knowledge of his beloved’s day-to-day engagements. He will not allow himself to be judged lacking in anything that may have even the slightest connection to you, even should he regrettably happen to employ that selfsame knowledge for his less than noble, incredibly, facetiously whimsical ends.

Besides, he muses to himself as his face burrows deeper into the pillows, his blanket haphazardly strewn over his legs and half dangling off the bed, you don’t seem to mind it all too much – whether out of a deep-rooted familiarity with his antics or, though much less likely, a genuine enjoyment of them, you never seem to be able to hold onto your annoyance for any longer than the split second it takes for your usually serene expression to morph into one of exasperated scepticism at the sight of a lark successfully executed. Jing Yuan lets out a soft sigh, faint vestiges of your scent still lingering on the fabric of the pillows and enveloping him in your comforting, if a little faded, fragrance, and for a moment he contemplates falling asleep again, just like that; warmed by sunlight, spread out over the traditional-style bed, half of his visage sunk into an assortment of feather-soft pillows and the other obscured by an unruly mane of hair. But the muted sound of approaching footsteps sobers him of his would-have-been somnolence as swiftly as the crackling of thunder would, and he considers whether he should pull the blanket over himself again or just leave it hanging off the bed.

The wooden folding doors open with a resounding slam right there and then, and the decision, though inconsequential, is made for him. Jing Yuan has to suppress the chuckles threatening to spill from his lips at the beat of silence that follows your grand entrance back into your shared chambers; and though he cannot see, he’s sure the emotions flickering through your visage right now are as plentiful as the flowers blooming in the courtyard. Dismay, surely, closely followed by clarity and realisation, and perhaps a bit of irritation at the sight of the disarray he’s single-handedly plunged the bed into since you’ve left earlier in the morning. Then, a heavy sigh, and the padding of clothed feet on the wooden boards as you draw nearer to the bed.

“How quaint,” you say, wry and suspicious and every bit as exasperated as he’d imagined you’d be. “It seems my eyes are playing tricks on me.”

Another pause, this time mercifully filled by the chirping of birds outside the window, and by the distant sounds of starskiffs soaring through the air beyond the confines of his home — of your home. But this lull, too, is short-lived. A hand promptly furls around each of his ankles, firm enough to have a secure grasp over them but not enough to bruise, a thoughtfully casual nature to the touch, and Jing Yuan has enough self-possession to repress a noise that’s equal parts surprised and amused from escaping him as his centre of gravity slowly inches ever forward, towards the far edge of the bed and the gaping void beyond it.

If an outsider were to witness the spectacle currently unfolding in your bedroom – one of its occupants faking sleep, the other forcibly dragging said rascal off the bed – unaware of the close relationship and centuries-long history between the two of you, it might appear as though you were committing a grave slight towards the General, and neither you nor Jing Yuan would be able to hold it against them for thinking so. It is not often ( if ever at all, were it not for a select few people who hardly hesitate to make their highly critical evaluations of his character known ) that he’s treated with such insolence, albeit playful, most of his interactions with others usually punctuated by either admiration, apprehension, or by the ostentatious favour-currying of the heads of the merchant guilds and other Outworlders alike.

An Arbiter-General’s duties and responsibilities are hardly as glamorous as they may first appear to be to the untrained eye, after all. Years blur together in an endless succession of tedium and repetition and acedia; what might have seemed or felt novel at first will slowly but surely morph into normalcy, and what once might have been cause of joy and celebration becomes just another frayed thread in the amaranthine tapestry of an immortal’s life. Likewise, as the Divine Foresight, as a General, and as a soldier—there is not much Jing Yuan has not experienced in his long life. It was the thrill of disobeying his parents at first, when he was still a starry-eyed Cloud Knight-hopeful with nothing but ideals and ambitions and dreams to his name, spurning the beaten path they’d prepared for him as their own parents in turn did theirs, instead seeking honour and glory on battlefields in the most wretched and forgotten reaches of the cosmos, striving to protect the Xianzhou and, in doing so, uphold the will of the Reignbow Arbiter.

Then came the High-Cloud Quintet, and the countless accolades that inevitably follow in the wake of a group of rising heroes—accompanied by the unavoidable terror and hatred and distrust as those very heroes cruelly, eventually, perhaps even prematurely, meet the end of their time at the hands of fate, torn apart at the seams by selfishness and by selflessness, by love and by hate, by life and by death.

Jing Yuan had felt honoured, at the time. To have his strength and accomplishments recognised by the master he’d so admired and from whom he’d learned all he then knew of swordplay and warfare, and to have been granted the chance to fight alongside warriors whose names would be recorded and celebrated in the annals of history for millennia to come—for a fleeting moment in time, he had felt as though his juvenile dreams had taken life, mere fantasy superimposing itself unto reality; like a transient blossom blooming and bedazzling all who’d come near it, so that it may be remembered for its beauty and not for the desolation that followed its withering. An insect leaving its cocoon to live but a minute.

That also had to come to an end, as most things in a long-lived species’ life often do. Such is the price of eternal life—to see with one’s own eyes as Fate spins its neverending loom, to bear witness to the ever-changing fortunes of heroes-turned-sinners, to feel and judge for oneself the evanescent nature of all things, the innate impermanence permeating human existence. And of five people, he alone has remained untouched by strife, observer of vicissitudes and outsider to the depth of the love and anguish that caused them each to turn their blades against the other.

And then, there is you——

“Love, may I suggest some more considerate ways to wake someone up?” He catches himself just mere heartbeats before the back of his head can make direct contact with the lacquered floorboards, one honey-tinted eye blinking open and affixing you with faux stupor and something akin to divertissement, a fond smile finding its way upon his lips. “Surely, even I do not deserve a concussion first thing in the morning.”

You slacken your hold over Jing Yuan’s ankles with a noncommittal shrug and promptly take a step back to allow him some space to gather his bearings, your half-hearted attempt at a rudimentary wake-up tactic foiled just as it was getting to the good part ( not that you’ve ever believed you’d be able to catch the Divine Foresight off-guard, but still – surely, there is nothing wrong with daydreaming of impossible outcomes? ). Your arms crossed over your chest and an unimpressed mien drawing your brows together and pulling your lips into a thin line, you watch as Jing Yuan pulls himself into a sitting position under your pinched gaze, steady and unwavering even as he meets your eyes, with all the casualness in the universe, from underneath silver lashes. He leans forward then, elbow propped up on a knee and cheek resting against his knuckles, his smile widening into an unabashed and adoring grin.

——You, whose mere sight sets his heart alight, even centuries after your fateful meeting.

“I am afraid any other method would have proven unsuccessful, General,” you huff out, half-impassive and not quite convincingly disdainful, with a hint of ill-concealed fondness beneath the bite of your words. “After all, had I tried gently nudging you ‘awake’, as I’ve already attempted several times in the past, you would’ve simply grabbed hold of me, caged me against the bed, and held me in your arms until you finally felt like getting up.”

Jing Yuan’s visible eye closes into a crescent, his brows raised in mock surprise and clearly amused at your impromptu tirade. “And you didn’t like it?”

“It is not a matter of like or dislike, my dear,” you retort, the endearment falling from the tip of your tongue so effortlessly making his heart soar. “It is the timing I have an issue with.”

“So, all I am hearing is that you don’t mind it. Which means I will persist in my endeavour to keep you by my side, preferably sunbathing in bed.”

You squint at him, mouth forming around words of protest before thinking better of it, sparing yourself from the onset of a much worse headache. After all, you’ve come to know quite well that, no matter the rebuttal, Jing Yuan will, without fail, find some way to twist your words into teasing remarks in his favour—and if your time together has taught you anything ( other than confirming your downright awful taste in men ), it’s that silence is the best response when faced with any of his coy utterances.

So, you don’t bother giving him an answer, instead opting to carefully manoeuvre around him and the bed to reach the antique dressing table at the far end of the room. Jing Yuan follows your movements from the corner of his eye, mirthful smile still on his lips, as you busy yourself with the dresser and its many gold-embossed drawers, no doubt looking for his hairbrush and perusing for one of the many silk ribbons you’ve begun collecting for his exclusive use since the day you’d first moved in together. Your back obscures the busy motions of your hands, and he has half the thought of rising from his seat on the floor to aid in your frantic search but, before said musing can fully register in his mind, you whirl around with an endearingly triumphant expression having overwritten your earlier frown.

Jing Yuan blinks at the unfamiliar sight of the delicate piece of fabric. “Is that a new addition?”

“Why, yes,” comes your blithe answer, your feet padding back towards the bed with the hairbrush and the chosen ribbon cradled in your hands, “Yanqing personally helped me pick it the other day as we were running errands.”

Your words are acknowledged with a pensive hum, no further objections made over the ribbon’s cutesy design of stylised, flourishing swords over a plain pastel blue background. It does indeed feel like something Yanqing would pick out over anything and all else. Jing Yuan wonders how his protegé would react if he ever saw his guardian wearing such a silly hair tie—perhaps he should alternate between it and his usual red one, just to see Yanqing’s candid reaction to it. He tucks the thought in the recesses of his mind for further deliberation, already envisioning all the possible ways the scenario could evolve into.

A contented sigh escapes him as soon as your hands find their way into his mane of unruly silver hair, smoothing out any stubborn knots ahead of time so that the brush can glide through it easier after, and tame it enough so that he may look more presentable and dignified like the Divine Foresight, Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu, should, and less like his Wave-Treading Snow Lion Mimi. Because, for as much as Mimi is cute and regal and intimidating, you’re rather sceptical its owner would be received with much of the same sentiment were he to appear in front of his retainers as dishevelled as he looks right out of bed.

Not that you can know for sure, of course – the sample of said retainers you’re drawing your conclusions from is rather limited, after all, and there is a wild variety of personalities and differing interpersonal relations to take into consideration. For all you know, they all would simply turn the other way and pretend they saw nothing.

Still, for your own peace of mind, you cannot help but fuss over him.

“You know,” you begin, voice thoughtful and playful and far away in a senseless musing all at once, your hands going through motions you’ve repeated countless times over the centuries you’ve spent in Jing Yuan’s presence, and him in yours. “Sometimes, I feel more like your caretaker than your lover.”

“Is that so?” Jing Yuan tilts his head back, allowing you an easier angle to gather his hair in his usual half-up, half-down tail, a pensive hum cascading from his lips. “But you don’t hate it, do you? After all, it’s not like I’m forcing you to take care of me.”

And when you reply by gently tugging at his hair in faux indignation, he laughs—a breathless, boyish sound betraying his age, echoing through the room and drowning out birdsong and wind alike, as though there was no one else in the universe but you and him and this quiet, tender moment frozen in time, untainted by the cruelty and sin that ever await him beyond the confines of the sanctuary of your home.

But here, and now, nothing about that matters.

Jing Yuan waits, quiet and obedient, until you’ve secured the ribbon around his hair in a knot that feels neither too tight nor too loose. He knows it’s perfect even without a mirror—he’s trusted you in more treacherous circumstances with far less margins of error to gamble that trust on, after all. And even should this blind faith of his be proven wrong over a clumsily tied tail, he certainly wouldn’t stop trusting you now just because you’ve retired from the limelight of war.

When he turns around, it is to the sight of you. You, your visage limned in golden sunlight, the warmth of your hand as your knuckles ghost over his cheek, the look of fond exasperation you reserve for him, and him only, as he leans in for a chaste kiss, smiling against his lips—you set his heart alight.

As you always have. As you always will.

And no matter how many more years, decades, centuries pass, how many more mornings will begin just like this, how many more times you’ll come to physically drag him out of bed or tie his hair up for him, grumbling about his aggravating habits all the while – simply because it is you, Jing Yuan thinks he’ll never truly get used to it, to your presence, and to your love.

He knows he never will.

#scriptorium.#hsr x reader #gepard landau x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #gepard x reader #jingyuan x reader

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ratrrriot · 2 years ago

Note

Do you have any sonic ocs? (Or ocs in general, haha) (totally not asking so I can make fanart, nahhhh….)

The fact that you are considering drawing my OCS when you haven't even seen them yet is very flattering,thank you!!

these are from when i was in highschool lol

This is Spark, They are a Tetraplegic Chao Cream found and brought to Tails,who successfully managed to build a fully functional mechanical body for them to play with. This robot body is connected to their brain and can even fly.

Spark lives at Tail's workshop and they’re clearly very fond of Cream -who regularly visits them to play- and Tails.

Originally,Tails was going to design Spark’s robot body based on his own (for trademark reasons) but since Cream was Spark's “owner” (for lack of a better term referring to someone who takes care of a chao) ,she wanted to participate in the designing part and gave him a few crayon drawings of rabbits, which were so cute that Tails simply had to include them in the final design. This is why they look like a Fox/Rabbit hybrid. (it also makes sense since Spark sees them both as some sort of older siblings)

ofc Spark isn't always inside their robot body,Tails takes them in and out everyday.

Aaand these are some apprentices I designed for the Babylon Rogues! Tundra,Velvet and Ember. They love snowboarding and are developing their skills at Extreme Gear Racing. They kinda need some redesigning...

These three are orphans. They used to live at an orphanage situated in a small town near Snow Valley. Unsatisfied with their lives there (and that nobody seemed to be interested in adopting them) they ran away around the age of 12 to try and start new lifes on their own,resorting to thievery and trickery to get by. Life was hard and unfair for three kids growing up in the snowy streets,but thanks to Velvet's determination,Ember's charisma and Tundra's intelligence they managed to survive. After a year of wandering,they stole 3 snowboards and started practicing the sport ,with the hopes that one day they would become famous professionals who didn't need to resort to stealing. However,by they age of 16, they hadn't just developed great skill and love for what they now consider "the art of thievery" - and a liking for equipment and luxuries most can't afford- but they also had lost all interest on the "safer" version of snowboarding and became addicted to the speed and the danger of racing.

They set on a journey to find their childhood idols: The babylon Rogues, a group of legendary thieves that they heard tales about back at the orphanage's storytime and who's Extreme Gear skills were what originally inspired them to try snowboarding. They traveled far and wide searching for them and once they managed to find Wave,Jet and Storm,they begged them to teach them their ways . After annoying them enough (and practically not letting them alone lol) the trio of professionals finally agreed to train them.

VELVET THE NORTHERN CARDINAL:

Energic,Peppy,Sassy,Optimistic,laid-back and confident. A speed junkie and a little bit of a clown. The fastest of the trio. Jet is his Idol and he'll do anything to impress him. Tries to annoy Sonic to imitate his teacher,but he actually thinks he is the coolest guy around after Jet. He has a big heart and doesn't seem to hate Sonic -or anyone -at all,but he does enjoy some friendly banter at the moment of competing. Jet likes him a lot and is kinda proud of him but he tries not to show it ,as he doesn't want the kid (or himself) to get attached or to think he'll actually pass to him his "Master of the wind" title someday.

The gem-shaped-computer on his neck was a gift he received from Wave after she updated her own and didn't know what to do with her old one. According to her,she handed it down to him cause "it matched his feathers". Now,feeling honored by one of his idols,he wears it with pride.

EMBER THE COCKATIEL:

Cheeky, Rebellious, Brave, Impulsive and Loyal. Doing tricks in the air like its nothing is her specialty. Cares a lot about her looks and is an expert at the art of deception. She is also can be a little bit of meanie. She and Wave share a sister-like kind of relationship. Since they both have strong personalities, they fight a lot and she tends to disobey her,espeally when it comes to the times she tries to teach her about mechanics and "the boring part" of Extreme Gear personalization. However, they always make up and end up gossiping at the end of the day.

TUNDRA THE CRESTED PENGUIN :

Silent, cold, shy, serious, a bit competitive and incredibly smart. Expert at strategizing and finding shortcuts while racing. Has high expectations of himself and doesn't handle failure very well. Being the oldest by a year,he is very protective of his adoptive siblings. Unlike Wave and Jet,Storm didn't have to be convinced to take him under his wing cause he liked the kid since the moment he showed up. tho he is trying to teach him to live a little and be a bit more impulsive at the moment of racing.

#rat answers #my sonic ocs #Spark #Ember the cockatiel #Tundra the crested penguin #Velvet the northern cardinal

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tziporarosen · 10 months ago

Text

Delicate Flames

Synopsis: In the desolate snowy mountains, a weary traveler, lost from her security after an accident in a snowstorm, stumbles upon a remote hut and barn. Desperate for warmth and assistance, she knocks on the door only to be confronted by Sevika, a rugged and wary blacksmith wielding a sharp blade. Despite initial tension, the traveler, named “Emilia”, pleads for help, concealing her royal identity. As they share a meal, “Emilia's” presence triggers a sense of familiarity in Sevika, who harbors resentment towards authority. As they converse, Sevika's suspicions grow, prompting “Emilia” to fabricate details about her origins. Despite their differences, “Emilia's” curiosity about Sevika's solitary lifestyle leads her to request joining her in the blacksmith's workshop. Their interaction intensifies as Sevika helps “Emilia” remove her corset, revealing dangerous discovery.

men and minors DNI

Sevikaxf!reader, !topSevikaxbottomf!reader, smut, reader loses her virginity, reader uses a fake name, sevika has a metal arm, AU, set in 19th century, praisekink, marking, spanking?, im new to this lol

The snow in between your toes was beginning to feel like fire burning through your thin shoes, stinging each cell of your skin as you walked, and walked… and walked, searching for any sign of life. For the first time in your life, you were grateful for the corset around your chest and waist, holding all your heat in, saving you from freezing to death. Reaching the top of the steep hill, you pant heavily to catch your breath as your chest heaves under the metal cage around you. Once you recollect your breath, you lift your head as tears warm your red cheeks in excitement. You let out a sob of relief as your eyes lock on the hut at the bottom of the hill accompanied with a large barn beside it, warm yellow light glistening through the windows. Ignoring the pain shooting through your entire core, you run as fast as you can, your energy somehow rejuvenated by the new found hope in front of you.

“Help! Is there anyone there?” you called out desperately as you banged your fists on the curved wooden door, each knock echoing in the empty fields around you.

“Who sent you?” a voice questions from behind you as something presses on your back, its sharpness digging right into your spine. Your heart in your gut, you shift slowly but quickly halt as she digs her blade into your back, causing you to put your arms up in surrender. “Move and at best you'll be paralyzed until the end of time, I imagine you can envision the worst case scenario” she warns. Her voice was gruff, yet so silky and stern that it made your fear conflicted on how to feel.

“Don’t hurt me, I'm lost, I just need to find my way home” you blurt out helplessly, hoping your tired and desperate voice will convince her of your innocence. You weren’t ready to die trying to survive, not when you've gotten this far. “I don't know where I am, who you are, or who could have sent me, but I promise you I just need help” you pleaded clearly, feigning a little confidence to not incriminate yourself with begging.

Your conviction seemed to work as she lowered her weapon slowly, allowing you to let out your first breath in what felt like an eternity. “What's your name?” she interrogated as you turned to face her slowly.

Your stomach was shouting at you to eat while churning at the question that was so simple yet so dangerous. You finally get the chance to see your avoided undoing, both of you frozen at the other's appearance. The tall woman stared down at you, taken aback by your features as you caught yourself admiring what towered over you. She wore a stained beige short-sleeve shirt with a leather apron draped over her muscular body, her arms on display under the t-shirt, its hems ripping around the v neck-line. It caught you off guard as you caught a glimpse of her right arm, metal claws replacing fingers, mechanical plates for a forearm, crafted so perfectly, it looked futuristic. Her brown skin was coated in ash and gray dust, burns and scratches poking through the dirt on her skin, her short hair was tucked in a half bun as little hairs rested on her forehead. Her hands were covered by worn out leather gloves as one held the magnificent sword, completely contradicting her attire and appearance. Your mind cogs for a name to give her as her lips curve lightly, waiting for you to give her an answer to her simple question.

“Emilia, my name is Emilia,” you blurt out in a stammer, smiling as you finish your sentence.

“Emilia, it's a pretty name.” she noted as she stepped forward, her eyes sharpening as she scanned you. “You look oddly familiar” she murmured as she looked down at your golden weaved corset, admiring the way it wrapped around your waist, allowing your now torn gown to lay so elegantly.

“You must be mistaken, I would have remembered you if we met before” you state gently, crossing your fingers and toes, hoping she will drop it and stop digging.

“No, I have a strange feeling that I've seen you before, in passing.” she persisted, her brows knitting together as she dug for a link to connect the feeling with a memory.

“Maybe in passing, but I don't know who you are, I promise” you double down as you pray internally, knowing if she realized you were the next in line to be queen, your life would be over in an instant, you'd never be found again. You always knew to be careful, especially when you were alone, being princess came with its cons as well, your life being at constant threat, and if a desperate person found you alone, they would be a fool to let you go without using your wealth as advantage.

She hummed in suspicion but quickly let it go as your stomach growled, desperate for its needs to be acknowledged. Pondering for a moment to figure out what to do with you, she finally gives in with a little chuckle. “Come in, your stomach will awaken the dead” she jested as she opened the door behind you with a swing of the golden handle.

“Thank you” you whisper out in exhilaration as you step inside the home. “I never got your name” you speak up softly as you admire the small home, little candles dancing on the table, the dark walls seemed to be made with brick and wood, almost as if she built it herself.

“Sevika,” she responded as her heavy boots treaded to the little kitchen in the corner, firewood aflame in a makeshift oven as she removed her gloves. A little smile crept up on your lips at the way her name slipped from her mouth, butterflies lingering in your abdomen, slowly traveling down in between your thighs. Her broad shoulders leaned forward as she cracked an egg over the metal plate before she pulled a loaf of bread from the tin, cutting a few slices with the large knife that rested beside her. “I hope you like eggs, because that's all I have” she mumbled, her back still turned to you as she grabbed an earthenware plate, quickly washing it before setting your plate.

“It's perfect, thank you. Besides I could eat a horse right now” you utter as she turns to you, her brows furrowed as she aims to comprehend what you're saying. Chuckling, you shake your head as she walks up to you, pulling a chair out for you to sit down.

“I don't get it” she stated flatly as she set the plate down, her attention trained on you as you sat down.

“It's a joke, you know? When you're so hungry you could eat anything, even a horse..?” you explain but let out a little giggle as her expression remained the same, completely confused by what you're saying. “Nevermind, you'll understand when you're in my position” you brush off as she shakes her head.

“Eat,” she urged as she walked back to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water. Not in need to be told twice, you dig in, your mind forgetting the manners that have been sewn into you. “Slow down, you'll suffocate” she advised as she sat down in front of you, sliding the glass of ice cold water over to you with her silver hand.

“Thank you, you're a lifesaver” you mumble in between chews, slowing down as she gazes at you, her eyes never faltering as she tries to figure you out, complexed by your familiar aura.

“Where did you come from?” Sevika interrogates as she leans back in her chair.

“Oh, uh- from the village nearby” you explain as you raise your eyes to answer her.

“There isn't a village nearby” she remarked as she crossed her arms over her apron, her biceps bulging.

You chuckle nervously, no longer feeling the need to stuff your mouth with food, your throat now feeling as dry as the desert from the tension sitting in the chair near you, you gulp down the water before speaking up. “Sorry, I mean from a village a little further away, i'm not so sure, i've been walking all day and night” you explicate as she nods with a little hum. God, she's intimidating when she's quiet. “What about you? What are you doing here in the middle of nowhere?” you question, hoping to fill the silence with something other than her staring you down, folding you to speak.

“I don't like being controlled, plus I don't like people'' Sevika answers with a little shrug of her shoulders.

“Controlled? By who?” you inquire, your curiosity peaked by her vague answers.

“By the royals, they're dictators, evil monsters even, don't you agree?” she posed as she tilted her head, almost as if she's testing you. You tilt your head back slightly at her admission, intrigued by her harsh judgment.

“I wouldn't say dictators, and definitely not evil monsters, they're just royals, they have to be in charge of their people, otherwise everything would crumble” you reason softly, slightly offended by her words.

“You know an awful lot, considering you come from a little village nearby” she elucidated, her tone implicative as she observed your features twitch ever so slightly.

You swallow down, hard, desperate for this interrogation to end, but she was a paranoid woman. “I- I know a lot because my father works in the kingdom” you excuse briskly.

“Ah, okay. That makes sense” she appraised as she shuffled forward in her seat. Grabbing her gloves that rested on her large leather belt hidden under her apron, she stands up, her full height seeming so much more intimidating now that you’re sitting. “I have to get back to work, you can sleep here until late morning and I’ll help you find your way back to your village” she asserted as she headed to the door at the side of the house, her footsteps halted by her name leaving your lips.

“Can I join you?” You asked gently with a curious smile, intrigued by what she does so early in the morning, plus you needed human interaction, anything to distract you from the horror you've just experienced with your guards.

Her brow was raised in amusement once she turned around, surprised you would actually be interested in what a woman like her does for a living. “Okay, but you have to be quiet, I can’t focus if you’re gonna sit there chit chatting” she warned hesitantly as she walked out, not waiting for you as she left the back door open. Quickly getting up, you followed her, shivering slightly as the cold air hit your face once again.

“What do you do?” You called out from behind her, snow tickling your face as she opened the large door to her barn, a blast of heat escaping into the cold early morning. You halt at the entrance, admiring the large room, a large fireplace at the center of the wall, warming your surroundings.

“Blacksmith” she simply says as she urges you to step forward before she closes the door behind you, leaving you two to heat your bodies in an instant.

“Must be good with your hands” you mumble as you admire all the tools laid out on cement. Your comment earns you a little chuckle as she sits down on her stool, raising the half crafted sword in her hands.

“You could say that” she responds, although more shamelessly in her gloat as she grins to herself.

“How do you survive with this heat? I'm already sweating” you comment in a slight pant, your skin glowing at the sudden change of temperature as you trace your fingers over the crafted sword. Your stomach drops at the engraved lion at the handle of the sword, knowing you have a dagger with the exact same design hidden in your dress.

Sevika tilts her head back, watching you from her periphery as she notices your hands on the sword. “I'm not wearing a 6 layer dress for one, and no touching” she warned sternly, her suspicion growing as your hand slowly let go of the sword.

“Sorry, it's just beautiful” you murmur, caught off guard by her harsh glare. You step away from the weapon as she stands up, dropping the metal that rested on her lap. Backing away slightly, she steps towards you as she reaches her arm out, wrapping it to the back of your waist to halt your retreat.

“Take it off, if you're so hot” she offered with a little smirk as you stood frozen, surprised by her change of tone, ulterior motives lingering underneath.

Heat rising to your face, you can't help but smile in embarrassment, and not only by her alluring tone. “I don't know how,” you whisper.

Her face screws in confusion as she tries to comprehend what you just said, “what?” She asked with a snicker.

You roll your eyes as you let out a harsh sigh, completely humiliated by having to admit to this very capable and confident woman, that you, a grown woman, can’t even undo her own dress because you’ve never had to. “I- uhm, I don’t actually know how to remove my dress” you admit in defeat.

Sevika bursts into a silent laugh as she rounds you, scanning the back of your dress. “You’re telling me you don’t know how to remove a dress?” She mocked.

“Well, I never needed to learn, I had people do it for me” you confess in a mumble, feeling completely useless in the situation. She was right to laugh, you’re so spoiled you don’t even have to acknowledge your privilege, yet right now it felt like a disadvantage.

“You must come from a very friendly village if you have people putting it on and taking it off every day” she remarks as she pulls the lace string. Your breath halts as Sevika loosens the corset, unable to breath despite your lungs' new found freedom.

Her words held so much power for a woman with no one beneath her, her eyes sharp with knowledge and experience. She made the hair on your back stand up in intimidation, yet she held such security. You felt safe, even though every part of your mind was telling you otherwise. “My parents have a comfortable life” you explain, though your words slipped through in a breathless whisper.

You could feel her gloved fingers trace your spine as she unraveled the corset before she pulled it forward, slowly unbuttoning the now loose dress. You were surprised by how easily she removed those tiny buttons, considering she’s got a glove on, and doesn’t strike you as the type to wear them, yet you could imagine she spent a lot of time removing them. Your dress falls off your shoulders, leaving you in your silk underdress, cleavage peeking through the neckline as she removes her glove. Her eyes fall to the handle of the dagger that slipped through the seam inside your dress, admiring her work now laying on the floor before quickly picking it up and placing it in the back of her trousers.

Her breath hitched as she stepped over to face you, admiring the way your chest rose and fell, your skin glowing ever so slightly against the warm flame heating the room. “Thank you” you stated softly as your eyes got caught in hers, deep gray eyes digging through your soul, controlling your heart rate, coercing you to admit all your sins and secrets.

You watch her breath go ragged for a moment as she raises her metal hand to your face before she tucks a lost strand of your hair behind your ear. You could see the hesitation in Sevika's eyes as she stepped forward, unsure if this tension she is feeling is mutual. Her fingers traveled down from your ear to your jaw before she places her thumb and pointing finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at her. “I've never seen someone as beautiful as you,” she uttered in admiration, taken aback by how your features complemented each other so flawlessly. Frozen in place, you felt your knees begging to give in at her comment, the certainty in her voice had you under her spell. Incapable of waiting any longer, Sevika connected her lips with yours, pausing for a moment to wage your reaction.

Your mind went to mush once you tasted the tobacco on her lips as you kissed her back, your heart now beating manually as she deepened the kiss. Her hand reaches the back of your neck, keeping you locked in as she explores your mouth, reveling in the way you taste. A little moan escapes as she bites down on your bottom lip, causing her to chuckle as she places her metal hand on the back of your slip dress, slowly lifting it up. The cold metal sends shivers up your thighs as she pulls it up before cupping your cheeks. Placing her other hand on your ass, Sevika taps it lightly to alert you before she lifts you up, supporting you by holding the back of your thighs as you wrap your legs around her waist. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you pull back to catch your breath as she begins to walk to the back of the barn.

She doesn't give you much time to process as she leans back in, kissing you once again as she removes one arm off of you to open the door in the back, keeping you in place with her other. You don't open your eyes until you feel a soft mattress hit your back, slowly leaning you down as she towered over you. Pulling her apron off, she leaned over you, resuming the kiss as her hands explored your waist and back until it reached your lower abdomen. Tightening the grip of your legs around her lower back, she slid your dress up to your waist as her thigh reached your core, pressing down on the pulse begging for some friction, anything.

“Please” you whisper out in between kisses, desperate for her to stop the teasing and just get to it.

“Patience sweet thing” she purred as she lowered her head to your neck, leaving painful marks along your pulse point down to your collarbone. You whined as her lips reached your chest, shifting slightly as she bit down on your boob, leaving a sting behind before she soothed the pain with her tongue.

You should probably tell her that you've never done this before, but you couldn't risk her stopping, not when she knew all the places to touch. You knew this was a bad idea, you'd be ruined if you lost your virginity to a commoner, let alone a foreign blacksmith, but right now you couldn't care less, you needed her. Your mind was someplace else as her tongue wrapped around your nipple as her flesh hand grabbed the other, exploring every part of your body at her disposal.

Your bottom lip found its way between your teeth, biting down as she pulled your panties down once she moved her leg, a little wave of cold air making you shiver. Sevika drew her fingers to your mouth, waiting for you to open them but you were too focused on the excitement of what was about to happen to notice.

“Open” she commanded as her finger touched your lips, hinting at what she was referring to. Submitting to her demand, you parted your lips as she inserted two fingers as far as she could, causing you to gag slightly as her fingers explored your mouth. “Be a good girl and suck them for me” she cooed as you nodded.

You wrapped your tongue around her fingers, sucking them until she was satisfied. Leaving your eyes watery as she removed them, her lips curling at your state, relishing in how pathetic you look under her. “Such a good girl,” Sevika praised as she lowered herself to your core, tracing her wet fingers over your folds.

Your shift forward at the sudden sensation that overtook you, her wet fingers drifting you to heaven as she drew them down to your entrance as nerves seeped in. Her brow raised at your reaction, quickly realizing why you are so shifty. “Don't worry, I'll be gentle” she assured softly, contradicting her commanding tone merely moments ago. You nod in gratitude, trusting that she'll do as she pledges before you close your eyes, your toes curling as she inserts one finger slowly, teasing your entrance to calm your nerves.

“To- too much” you whine once she manages to get her fingers in, her metal hand rubbing circles on your thighs as she shushes you, coercing you into pleasure that quickly replaces the pain.

“You're a big girl, you can take it, can’t you?” she taunted once she saw the pain subside, slowly pumping her fingers in and out as she traces slow kisses on your stomach. Biting the pathetic moans down, she slaps your thigh, “use your words pretty” Sevika ordered.

“Ah- Yes, I can take it” you respond in between moans, your head spiraling as she inserts her middle finger, her thumb circling your clit as your hips rise in overstimulation.

“Ah, ah, move and you'll be cumming all night” she warned slowly. Though her threat seemed tempting, you knew the use of it as a warning meant a sleepless night of begging her to let you sleep. Fighting your reflex, you laid still, allowing her thick fingers to fill you, a pit in your stomach quickly forming. Keeping her rhythm, Sevika rose to reach your neck, planting messy kisses all across your skin up to your ear.

“I figured out who you are,” she whispered as her fingers curled, each thrust blinding you into blissful ecstasy. Her words traveled in echoes as you moaned, oblivious to her revelation. Feeling the pit in your stomach threaten to lose control, your back arched as your hand grabbed the bedding beneath you, the sensations too much as it sent you over the edge. “You're my boss’s daughter, the King, the filth that took my arm”

making this a multichapter because ive imagined a whole plot lol

tagging you since you saw my comment lol

@fyeahnix

#arcane #sevika #wlw #writer #lesbian #sevika smut #sevika fanfic #sevika au #arcane fanfic #sevika x reader #sevika x you

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faeriekit · 3 months ago

Note

🥭 Rank from most enjoyable/fun to write to least: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Crack.

I can't remember which fic got me into your writing but I am really enjoying health and hybrids I think the attention to detail with language barriers is neat 😊 I feel like these options can be mixed a lot in writing would the ranking change depending on the combos?

I need you to know before anything that I had half this post penned and my computer randomly refreshed my post and burnt all of it. 💀

So. I can't. Uh. I can't do all of my fics on a scale, because of, um,

that. So. I'm just going to do a straight best to worst. Sound good? Great because I have no other idea how to tackle any of this.

Fluff:

Best: Snowdrift Sanctuary. Although even my best fluff has a little bit of angst in it, this is a sweet, warm story of inter-species fostering and the care it provides. What's not to love? It was even a Phic Phight fill, so I got to surprise someone with it.

Worst: Rituals and Rites. There's nothing wrong with this one; it's a cute ask fill, it's got some great silliness in it and a little irreverence, and I'm always happy to archive my stuff on ao3 lest tumblr finally pull the plug, but I always dislike uploading individual lil' things onto ao3 when there isn't much to them. It's not bad, I just...don't have a lot of fluff to pad out this binary lol

Smut:

Best: Lazy Sunday. By the time I got to this one I'd largely already hit my stride writing smut stuff, I liked how this couple gelled (and even have a few as-yet-unwritten scenes of their relationship I may never get around to!) and I like the couple as they are: weird and complicated and persevering into a yet-unseen realm of intimacy! I'm also not super into the kink in question, so it was super nice to see the piece well received by people who are into it and thought it worked well lol. How sad would it be if you tried to write a niche kink and it ended up completely flopping lmao T_T I'd never show my face in this town again.

Worst: A Visitation. Do not get me wrong, I love this fic, but you gotta remember that I wrote the first chapter completely exhausted and out of my gourd with fucking cauvid. 😭 I'm shocked it came out coherent at all! And everyone helped me workshop the last chapter, and it took forever to the point where I was writing like thousands of words a day and it was eating up my whole life...and sometimes I still go back in to reread it and I find MORE errors! 😭😭 This fic had all the birthing pains! Worth it, but OW!

Angst:

Best: Dig Three Graves In Apartment 31C. I rreeeeeeally almost put Hybrids here, but in the end, Hybrids is a hopeful recovery fic. This fic is all grief and loss and the stench of the aftermath of acute trauma in the air. It is sad— sometimes I still get comments shocked at how well it worked lol— and although the excruciatingly tough epilogue yon author had to write lifts it a little, it's not... There's no cure for this. Everyone in this picture is dead. That's just the way it is.

Worst: Feet on the Ground. A similar deal: I really like this fic but there wasn't a great ending line to close on so it's just...mediocre. I probably should have just waited to see if time would fix it, but it was a Phic Phight fill and we're kind of on a timer during the event, and I wanted to get it out so I could start working on other people's asks, so... 6/10. Fascinating concept, mid execution.

Crack:

Best: Infection versus Infestation. It was either this or one of the MPreg fills lmao, and I just. There's just so much going on here. The support network. The mental health. The powerpoint presentations. Bees. Medical pamphlets. Aliens. QPRs. Maybe the real fic is in the groupchats you made along the way. No notes hands down my one true rec for weird fics; all the way up and all the way down, it's inherently GenderFucked and surreal and young idiot adult bullshit. I love them your honor.

Worst: Percy Jackson, God of the Shrimps. A discord in-joke never makes sense as a discord out-joke. I am astounded people read this to this very day. I make it worse every time I even mention it in a post, but hey, that's showbiz. If you read this and actually found something there, more power to you. If you read this and were like "???"...yeah lmao

I'm glad you're liking health and hybrids so far! It's so funny to think that Hybrids used to be my downtime fic to recover from my other fics lmao...now it's beating Blister Pack to the tune of an additional 100,000 hits. I genuinely can't even conceptualize that number in my head. It's a such a bonkers concept that so many people could be glancing at a medical trauma fic from lil' ol' me. High school Faer who took anatomy classes for fun would be ecstatic. In the end, I tried to get a couple of unique fics to fill each category just because I like them so much. Sue me. It's my fic and sometimes I wanna talk about them with people lol.

Thanks for asking! 🧡🧡🧡🧡 This was fun!

#dp x dc #faer nonsense #ask games #thanks for asking!

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lily-alphonse · 2 months ago

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I'm going to really need you to hear me out on this one because it seems a little ick at first, but Sandy x Clint. I imagine that they bond over being friends with Emily initially then it blossoms into something more. And it's the slightly stereotypical mid man with model women.

I love ur ideas Ollie

I love that you called it as a mid man with a model woman thats so funny lmao

Ok honestly guys... I'm prepared to forgive Clint. I know.

I saw a post recently pointing out that Sebastian has a comparably sus line about Abigail. I am a Sebastian lover and not a hypocrite so I took a deep look inward and decided, you know what, being a blacksmith is hot. His facial hair is hot. I'm okay with it. We could give him a redemption arc.

It helps imo that Emily is weird. Personally I think it lends credibility to his crush in a way that would have been lost if his crush was on Haley, for example. Clint and Emily were friends first and he likes her personality, and is potentially just misguided because of self-esteem issues and toxic masculinity making him believe he can't have female friends.

So let's put his ass in therapy when Emily gets married and he has his little menty b about it.

He starts to leave the workshop more per his therapist's insistence. He joins some kind of club in town like a wine and cheese night. (Im basing off of his little Parisian-looking outfit during Emily's clothing therapy cutscene, its not out of nowhere, Clint is a man of culture on the inside) He apologizes to Emily and they start to rebuild their friendship, maybe have a fun little shopping makeover.

Sandy has never really met Clint before his makeover. Maybe a glimpse of him at an event. But they formally meet at Emily's birthday party and Sandy likes what she sees.

Clint's easily flustered. Not a tall man but BUILT, stocky with chiseled fucking arms from his smithing. A man not afraid to get his hands dirty, but also likes a bit of culture. He's well-groomed, with fun facial hair that is just quirky enough to be very intriguing to Sandy. Like, come on. When you look at it like that, you can't tell me it's not compelling.

Sandy is confident and domineering. She zeroes in on him so hard even Emily is like woah there girl he's fragile lol. The success of this relationship is largely due to Emily, in the early days. Clint relies on her and his therapist to navigate the intense feelings of inadequacy until him and Sandy eventually develop a solid enough platform of open communication.

(Partially thanks to BDSM) Oh my god who said that... 🫢

This ask is a part of the (now closed) SDV Rarepair Challenge! Check out the other answers here, and make sure to boost your favorite so it can appear in the final fic poll! More info on that here.

#stardew valley #sdv #answered asks #send asks #fic writer #ao3 writer #rarepair #shipping in the valley #rare ship #rarepair challenge #ficlet #fic idea #lily speaks #sdv clint #sdv sandy #sandy x clint #clint x sandy #stardew sandy #stardew clint

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runningupthatvecna · 1 year ago

Text

the law of seat partners | part 4

masterlist

a/n: so this is part four, probably the last and final part to bring this little something to an end. it's a bit of a dive into eddie's emotional state and self-esteem issues and it just might sting you a little reading. this whole story has honestly been a wild ride from start to finish and i want to thank every single one of you for giving it so much love! hope you enjoy this last part just as much, if not more. all i can say is that i poured my entire heart into this and it's my first time writing spice, so go easy on me please. my requests are, however, open in case anyone wants me to write more. for this, i'm planning a little sequel part, so keep an eye out for that if you like.

summary: after some intense flower crown binding and a few more intense days at the camp, things are finally getting real between you and eddie. you make him your prince and he makes you his own. read for yourself ;)

word count: 13,5k (lol don't ask i got carried away it seems)

warnings/tags: slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love kinda, not too detailed description of reader's appearance, very close physical closeness, sharing a bed, eddie being touch starved and a very wholesome and caring bean, mentions of eddie's dad being a piece of shit, lots of petnames, shitlots of fluff, a tad bit of angst, abandonment issues & performance anxiety, smut (minors go away!), softdom!eddie, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, a bit of edging if you squint, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, pulling out, basically just hot and steamy lovemaking filth. ok BYE

-----

Roses, magnolias, tulips, daisies, sunflowers, yarrows, peonies and lots of twigs with green leaves. For the base. To balance out the colours.

The day had finally come.

You placed the crown of flowers which you had spent an hour assembling and braiding and binding together on your head, intending to wear it with a sense of pride.

A sunflower as the yellow centerpiece, two light purple peonies on each side, some yarrow and white roses here and there.

You guessed that Jonathan would shoot another roll of film full today, measured by the enthusiasm he was displaying just now while directing the postures of the four of you, assigning you poses and giving you instructions on which way to turn so you would be lit in the best way possible.

Robin, Nancy, Max and you were stood in one line, and if it weren't for the fact that you found yourselves on the path leading from the cabins to the little square of the fireplace, surrounded by trees, the view of the lake in the background and framed by a row of tall pines, you would think you were posing for graduation photos.

It was a nice rehearsal, at least.

Anyone else except Will, Eddie and the photographer himself were busy occupying themselves elsewhere.

The younger Byers boy enthusiastically fumbling around with flowers for his own crown – the artist in his element –, Jonathan capturing your precious moments and Eddie, ... well Eddie was honestly just watching the four of you, admiring the scene and being grateful that no one had shoo'ed him away yet, because that meant he'd certainly have to get involved in the yoga-slash-stretching workshop Steve Harrington was trying to attend in the meantime.

Also he was wondering where you took the patience for your magnificent wonder of floral composition from, when he unsuccessfully tried to merely string a bunch of leafy twigs and yarrow together himself.

The teachers had made you all spent the majority of the day in the next bigger town, admiring the contents and exhibits of the local museum, dedicated to bring the regional history, geography specifics and culture closer to its visitors. And the only time the longhaired metalhead had left your side (under protest) was those two times you needed to use the women's restroom.

The younger middle school kids had been an absolute menace to the nerves of Mr Clarke all day, their lack of patience and ability to stay focused on the exhibits getting the best of him.

Eddie's presence made everything better though (for you at least) and the obnoxious children forgotten. You know that feeling when you're on a trip with your friends and your crush is there too and that fact just lifts your entire mood and whatever you guys are doing doesn't matter because they are there with you because their presence is solely enough to make your heart blossom?

Yeah. That.

"Come here", you sat down next to Eddie on the tree trunk that was laid flat to act as a bench, taking and trying to fix whatever attempt of a flower crown he was occupying his fingers with. You would guess that he'd be quite skilled with them as a guitarist, but seeing him drop stuff here and there with his tongue stuck out – a telltale sign that he was focussing super hard – also had you guessing that the skill of binding flower crowns and playing guitar were two different pairs of shoes.

Legs touching, you felt Eddie's gaze wander from the top of your knee over the skin on the plushness of your bare thighs up to the hem of your white flowy linen dress.

Oh, what they would feel like under his gentle touch.

His eyes paused their little journey on your hands, the softness of your skin, how you (just like him) always wore your rings, thin golden bands delicately adorning your index and middle fingers plus the one on your right thumb. He took in the tiny wrinkles stretched over your knuckles, the way your fingertips were readjusting the wire he sloppily had bound the twigs and stems together with, lightly brushing over the even softer petals of the flowers.

Secretly he wished they would lightly brush over his own hands too.

Brush over his neck, his hair, his cheeks, telling him that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him and that he could and would be accepted – and maybe even loved – just the way he was in his truest form.

As if you could be someone with the capability to show him just that. Convince his silly brain that he wasn't the fuck up his father made him believe to be. The unlovable freak his hometown condemned him as.

A feeling he was so desperately yearning for, deep down below the surface where usually no ray of light would ever reach the bottom.

Mainly because he wouldn't let the light through. The waves were and had just always been too high.

Gaze continuing its journey further up, lingering on your chest for a fleeting second, before scanning over the expanse of your neck.

Eddie mentally thanked Nancy for braiding your hair out of the way today.

He took in your jawline, the way your small and delicate earrings decorated the lobes of your ears, a small strand of hair on the side of your head separating your ear from your face, your nose which Eddie found to be very cute, a few freckles spread over the apples of your cheeks, eyes as deep as the ocean, currently focused on not cutting yourself on the garden scissors as clumsy as you could be, and then the pinkish red plushness of your rounded lips.

Eddie was certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against his own. Giving him a glimpse of something big and meaningful, and very very dear to him, something crawling through every vein of his body making the goosebumps erupt on his bare arms, something he craved to his core.

He wanted to touch. Needed to. More of you.

And he felt an all too familiar warmth spread through his abdomen, just like yesterday after the swimming, when his goodnight hug had ended up a bit too tightly for his own good, and he'd had to excuse himself awkwardly in order to take care of the semi slowly causing his damp shorts to become painfully tight.

He took in the way your eyes lit up and the corners of your mouth curled upwards at your successful fix of his poor attempt to impress you, watched you getting up and moving in front of him in a twirl, making the hem of your dress bounce a little.

Of course he noticed that. You were the pretty much only thing occupying the space in his brain.

The light was you.

"Now here you go, Prince of Metal", you chuckled as you placed the crown on his head softly, him blinking up at you through his thick black lashes with a wide smile that was forming on his face slowly at your affectionate gesture and – especially – the title.

It was very modest, just white yarrow and the green of the leaves, an analogy to Eddie's mindset of cherishing simplicity.

A "thank you, darling" escaped his chest in a low, soft tone right before he stood up, still grinning at you as if you had just told him you'd won the lottery. Or he'd won it.

He was certainly feeling like he had. You had done this, something nice, for him. It made his cheeks flush pink. A delightful addition to the white and green.

Jonathan had just finished taking a few close-ups of Max' half-heartedly composed circle of tulips and daisies, and when he noticed you and Eddie in the middle of half empty buckets of leftover flowers and the splutter of twigs and fallen petals, he wasted no time in calling you over to his makeshift photo set.

-----

For the rest of the trip, you couldn't help but think of Eddie's newfound interest in flower arrangements, the way he had selflessly fought with the stubborn wire and unruly twigs just to spend more time with you (and selflessly escape yoga with Steve).

The time at camp was almost coming to an end already. You had two nights left before the bus would roll up again, forcing you to leave the little serene oasis to take you home.

A whole bunch of polaroids was stacked up on your little nightstand by now, one of them showing you alongside the Prince of Metal, proudly posing with flower crown heads held high, and if you didn't know better you would say that the pose you both had taken made the impression of one of a royal couple. Eddie had put his hands on his hips, facing the camera diagonally, your back towards his chest in the same direction as him. Serious expressions, since you were royalty.

Another showed you in between Steve, Robin and Eddie on another hike, all of you well-lit by the bright sun, blue sky and vast lake with the deep green of trees in the background, on top of the hill you had attempted to climb on the first day. Robin was pulling a silly face, while Eddie poked his index finger into the dimple that always formed on Steve's cheek whenever he put on his toothy grin. And you? You were just looking, smiling, gazing at your seat partner.

More of them had been taken during further swimming activities, recreations of the acrobatic performance which Eddie and Max had displayed that first time in the lake, and since Jonathan knew how obsessed with photos you really were, he thought he might as well give you all the others he had taken.

For safekeeping.

Not to mention the one of Eddie and you on the bus.

And then, your personal favourite you had decided, showed Eddie in the white framed rectangle with closed eyes, his crown of flowers decorating the top of his head, the widest grin spread across his face.

He looked angelic.

You wished you could make a thousand copies of it and tape it to every single lamp post and throw it into every single mail box in all of Hawkins.

You wanted to look at it forever.

As you were lying there in the darkness of your shared cabin, you made a mental note to yourself to definitely pay Jonathan back for the film.

Eyes closed, you let your mind wander through all the memories you'd been making these past days. Not just with Prince Metal, but also with everyone else. It was nice and wholesome getting to spend time with the gang outside of Hawkins.

The very vivid memories of the past days flooded your brain. It was easy getting lost in them. So lost, that you audibly gasped as a light knock on the glass of the window pulled you out of conscious dreamland.

Practically shooting up from the mattress, you turned your head towards the window.

The more than familiar wild mane of your favourite Hawkins local satanist stood out from between the ends of the bushes growing beneath that window, and the person it belonged to was intently gesturing towards the wooden door of your cabin.

Eddie was wearing his signature grin when you rolled your eyes at him and the idea of sneaking around in the waking hour that was two in the night.

You mouthed a "fine" at him, nodding towards the door, before you silently tried to get up without triggering an avalanche of your roommates awaking.

The sight that offered itself to you as you crook open the cabin door was something you were certain you were going to burn into the core memories of your life.

Eddie Munson on the first of two steps in front of your door, the pathway with the other cabins in the background, in a black tank top, from the darkness you made the colours of his boxers out to be dark blue, his white sneakers but no socks. The scene in your periphery lit only by the low glow of the moon casting its reflection down onto him and his surroundings through the crowns of the pine trees.

A bunch of tattoos were visibly spread over his arms, guitar pick on a chain around his neck, curtained by his luscious curls. A messy bunch of random forest flowers and grass in his tight fist.

What on earth was he thinking he was doing out here? At this hour?

His expression told you.

"Hi", he almost whispered, a sly smile playing on his lips, eyes searching yours, stretching his arm straight and holding the makeshift flower bouquet out under your nose.

As if it was the most normal thing, showing up at someone's cabin in the middle of the night. In the woods. With random flowers he must have picked on the way here?

You snorted at his gesture and the incredible sweetness of it, it was making you blush hard and your heart combust in your ribcage at the thought of him even thinking of bringing you something. At him even being here right now. The innocence of it juxtaposing with his reputation back at home.

"Jesus Christ, what on earth are you doing out here?", you whispered back in the same tone, leaning in the doorframe in your usual sleep shirt and – of course, since you were surrounded by girls and you all were comfortable enough with each other – panties only.

Eddie took the next logical step, the one above the one he was currently standing on, getting closer to where you were leaning and recreating the usual height difference between you two.

"I can't fall asleep with Steve snoring", still in a hushed tone, and he paused before a small smile formed on his lips again, "and a bird just told me that the extension of the law, remember when I told you about that? Yeah, well, it got approved, so", he paused again, finding your eyes again with his best impression of a puppy, "could I maybe, you know uh, come in and be rescued from my eternal misery?"

You were very well aware that you'd be sent home immediately if anyone caught sight of you letting a male breathing creature past your doorstep, but since it was 2 am, it was also Eddie Munson gazing at you in the moonlight as if you were the most beautiful thing he ever had laid his eyes on, and you couldn't deny that you most definitely wanted this, the possible consequences of your little spontaneous rendezvous, nagging at your brain like alarm bells, were thrown overboard in an instant.

Grabbing one of Eddie's wrists, you pulled him towards you and inside, trying to close and lock the cabin door as silently as possible.

His presence alone and familiar warmth radiating from his body was already soothing the light rush of adrenaline in your veins from doing something that could get the both of you into quite the trouble, and it didn't take him long to take a step forward, moving his arm that you were still holding on to around you, so you were forced to turn your back towards him while his other snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

He squeezed you to himself for a brief second, acting as a silent thank you, before he let go of you with a wide grin that you were only able to see thanks to the dim light of the moon flooding through the one window between the two bunks.

There was a small sparkle in his eye, a glint of serenity, comfort and endless affection. And relief. So much relief from how you were letting him in, weren't rejecting him like he was used to.

Peaceful breathing was filling the room, a light snore coming from the top bunk that wasn't above yours, and Eddie followed you.

You couldn't believe that you were about to share your small mattress and covers with the one guy you'd been harbouring feelings for over the time span of several months.

Eddie couldn't believe it either.

Mere seconds later, you found yourself caged in by the wall, the bed frame and Eddie's body.

It was the most natural thing. Everything fell into place, the way the two of you were lying there, facing each other, inhaling each others breaths from the close proximity, the covers draped over your bodies, hiding the details of Eddie sneaking an arm around your waist again to pull you impossibly closer, his hand carefully exploring more of the territory he already had started to discover on the bus, calloused yet somewhat soft fingertips almost ghosting up the warm skin over your bare spine.

"You're so pretty."

An inaudible whisper of admission.

You heard it.

An invasion of goosebumps spread over every inch of your skin like a wildfire.

Eddie felt it.

"So are you."

The arm you weren't lying on found its way up, tucking a wisp of his curls that had fallen over his now beet red cheek away behind his ear.

Neither of you wanted to ever stop smiling.

He moved his entire being down a little so his eyes were the same level with your jawline, a low hum escaping his throat at the tip of his nose brushing over the skin on your neck in an upward motion, just like that time in the lake.

It was beyond overwhelming to feel him this close. In your bed.

And for Eddie, feeling you this close was so much better than the countless times he had imagined this happening. He'd imagined what it would feel like, your light illuminating all of him.

You let him use your arm as a pillow, before he nuzzled his forehead against the same spot on your neck, his cheek lightly pressed against your clavicle.

And just when you thought you couldn't get physically closer to him than in this moment, bellies touching, legs wordlessly intertwined and all, he pulled you against him some more. Squeezed you tightly and tenderly, letting you know that this was right where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be.

And yeah, it felt quite right to you as well.

Your other arm that wasn't occupied by Eddie's head found its way around his torso, hand rubbing softly over the expanse of his back, and you wondered how much of muscle and softness your fingertips would be encountering if your hand would just cheekily sneak its way underneath his tank top.

Resting your cheek on Eddie's forehead, the warmth, the comfort of wrapping your arms around something to hold onto at night, his steady and satisfied breathing against your own, made you easily drift off into a deep slumber.

Eddie had already passed out the minute you had allowed him to rest his head in the crook of your neck and had draped your arm over him, encasing him in the embrace he so badly needed in order to find his own sleep.

You'd known him long enough to know that he cared about the few people in his life who hadn't let him down, he took care of people that took care of him.

And you wanted to take care of him. In every way you could and in every way he would let you.

Silence filled the single room, steady breaths being in- and exhaled, and you hoped no one had yet woken up to notice your charming little intruder existing in the sacred four walls of the flower cabin.

-----

A ray of sunlight made the shadows of tree leaves dance over the landscape of your face through the window.

You woke up from it, eyelids slowly blinking and then squinting shut again from the sudden invasion of too much light at once.

It took you a few seconds to realize where you were, namely in the small cabin that you were to call home for the week, with Max still snoozing in the bunk above you, a light snore still coming from Robin's side of the room, and Nancy having probably already left to go for her daily morning jog.

The weight of a semi-tattooed arm was resting on your torso diagonally like a seat belt, indicating that Eddie was even in his sleep very concerned for your safety. He had moved upwards, now a head above yours on your actual pillow and on his side, making his chest slowly rise and fall against your head.

It was peaceful, so peaceful waking up next to him, and it felt like the most natural thing. A very easy morning. As if this wasn't the first time ever.

You rubbed the back of your hand over your eye, the movement causing Eddie's hand to give the exposed skin over your waist, until where your shirt had ridden up, another gentle squeeze, making it known to you that he was, in fact, awake as well.

Craning your head towards the head of the bed, your still sleepy eyes found the warm brown of his for a moment, along with a wide stretched smile playing on his lips, dark stubble running down his cheeks and chin and neck before stopping halfway down, since he had forgotten to shave.

Eyelids fell shut again, but the smile stayed. Just for a moment longer, before he relaxed every muscle in his stupidly beautiful face, allowing your eyes to start their own journey of curious wandering.

You took in the way his nostrils flared a little whenever he exhaled, the tiny wrinkles on the outsides of his big doe eyes, a bunch of light freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks, the way they were being pushed up by the corners of his mouth whenever he gave you that smile, the slightly glowing softness of his skin generally, the way his wild unruly dark mane framed his face so perfectly, the way his cupid's bow sat on the plushness of his pink lips, ...

And oh, you were certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against your own.

You were also certain you were still dreaming, that this entire moment of Eddie knocking on your window and letting him into your bed and him lightly fanning your face with his breath right now was just a dream and you were about to wake up any second to the sound of pesky middle schoolers screaming their way from their cabins to the pergola where you'd usually have breakfast.

But no. This was real. Eddie was real. And he was just so pretty, lying there peacefully snoozing, the expanses of soft bellies still touching, and that wasn't because your mattress didn't stretch wide enough.

"Are you watching me sleeping?", Eddie mumbled, lightly flexing his jaw, eyes staying shut, the smile returning slowly.

If there wasn't a fire in your lower belly burning from all his touches and sweetness already, it damn certainly was now, ignited by the rasp in his low morning voice.

Oh Jesus Christ.

The absolute heat was spreading into two directions, using your heart as its origin. Once again your cheeks heated up, and you felt your thighs clench together involuntarily at the way in which he said those words.

"What if I was?", you mumbled back in a similar tone, trying your best to not let on too much about the effect he was having on you.

Eddie's eyebrows disappeared behind his frizzy bangs. Still refusing to open his eyes.

"Then I'd say you're being a little creep."

He let out a low chuckle while pulling you into his embrace, savouring the moment of having you this close once more and letting you know for certain that he was just joking.

"Pfff, says the guy who literally creeps around my cabin at two in the night."

You could not for the life of you recall a time when his face ever was closer to yours than it was right now, noses almost touching.

"Hey, that was a necessity. We only obeyed the law and I am eternally grateful for your gracious salvation from me meeting my impending doom."

The underlying layer of heaviness of his words was disregarded for now, since you wanted to desperately keep the bliss that came with being so close around him for just a moment longer.

Eddie made you feel like you were the most important person in the entire world, mainly due to his ever prominent abandonment issues. Meaning he never once had really left your side during the entirety of this trip (except for when you had to use the bathroom and, well, sleep – until now), always making sure you were taken care of.

It melted you.

And you didn't mind his clinginess at all. Male validation wasn't something you had to run from in order to save yourself from drowning in it. The opposite was more of the case, you were soaking it up like the roots of a flower that hadn't seen rain in years.

Oh wait, flowers decay at some point if they don't get watered? Well, yeah. You'd almost been there at some point in the past.

"You're such a dork", you remarked his theatrics with a chuckle, before burying your face in the crook of his neck, cheek pressed to his clavicle and nose dipping into the soft skin where neck and shoulder met, "but a very cute one."

A hint of shyness overcame you.

Awaiting his reaction was unbearable.

Eddie's cheeks flushed a bright red at your admission and the fact that you were so very obviously trying to hide your fluster between his shoulder and neck? You going all sweetly shy on him simply made his brain short circuit.

Did you just call him cute?

While your – your – lips (!!!) were so close to his skin, barely brushing over one of his sensitive spots?

No, Eddie Munson was almost certain he was still in dreamland.

Only now he dared to open his eyes, just to make sure he hadn't dreamt the sneaking-into-your-cabin-last-night part either, and let out a sigh at the conscious feeling of your skin that had collided with his palm, your nose at his pulse point, hair tickling his chin.

Then, the realization of that meaning behind your latest words kicked in.

Meanwhile, you didn't dare to lift your head to see his reaction for yourself.

He made you feel it though, when a boost of confidence helped one of his hands find a home on one of your butt cheeks, the arm which your head was still resting on wrapping around your shoulder so his arms were fully engulfing your figure, and his own head dipped down to where your neck was slightly craned.

Tip of the nose brushing up along the expanse of your neck in a singular swift motion of his head, since he already had found out a while ago that you didn't dislike that one, and then?

Then he buried his nose in the hair coming down behind your ear, while his lips slowly, almost carefully placed a peck to where your jaw met your neck, followed by another low hum at the feeling of you not backing away. Of you staying with him.

At first you weren't so sure if you had registered that correctly, but at the same time, judging from the way you could feel a familiar warmth pool between your legs, you were pretty sure he'd just kissed your neck.

Neckneckneck.

Thank fuck he couldn't see the way your eyes were rolling into the back of your skull at the sensation of his warm lips on your warmer skin.

Months over months of yearning for him, for this, for lying in his tight embrace, against the warmth of his body, longing glances you had directed at him, his innocent arm around your shoulder practically burning through whatever shirt you were wearing on those days, the now occurring realization that his sly remarks and jokes had literally been his way of subtly flirting with you, painting all his glances that had been thrown back at you in a similarly wistful light.

It was all so much at once, yet you already couldn't possibly get enough of him.

You nuzzled closer (if that was even physically possible), your arm squished between your bodies, the arm you weren't lying on wrapped around his torso, hand still underneath his tank top, running your fingertips along the smooth skin over his spine.

Giving back.

A nice concept.

A little less shy now, still cautious though, your lips pressed against the slightly stubbly side of his neck as you craned your head further up.

Eddie couldn't believe his fucking luck.

"Mhm, baby."

His almost whispering voice didn't have to travel far from how close his lips were to your ear. Because they still were lingering on your neck, where he countered your admission with another chaste kiss, trying not to overwhelm you.

It was too much. You couldn't take it any longer.

Lifting your head away from his skin, the warmth radiating from his neck engulfing your face, you softly dropped the weight back on Eddie's arm.

A wide smile decorated his face, letting you know that everything was alright with you and him in his book, and in his big brown chocolate orbs you only found affection.

You hoped he could spot the same in yours.

Oh, a surge of confidence erupted inside of you.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

Eddie's fingers occupied themselves with a soft dig into the plushy flesh of your ass, while the smile dancing on his lips slowly turned into a cheeky grin, dimples denting his skin adorably, and his other hand craned around your head, thumb bending far enough to run the length of it down your cheek.

"Mhm, darling. Why do you think I've been touching you this entire time?"

Without another moment of hesitation you closed the distance between your faces, lips colliding with his own in the softest way.

You both were now lying on a cloud in heaven.

It was passionate from the beginning, yet not too wild, a fuzzy feeling of warmth spreading through your entire system at the sensation.

The low hums that Eddie let out at the feeling of your lips softly moving against his own was sending your sense of time and space into the void, and the fact that you initiated this was making his head spin like the ceiling fans in Hawkins High's cafeteria.

Slow slow slow movements, your hands wandered up to cup his cheeks, while he pulled your hips impossibly closer to his own, humming against the endless softness of your lips dancing over his.

Each kiss lasted for a few seconds, it was like you were both trying so hard to feel every line and ridge and texture of each other, and also neither of you seem to waste a single care in the world about hurrying up.

"Oh lord Jesus Christ!", Robin's loud voice ripped you out of your little trance as it went echoing through the room.

Right, you almost forgot you weren't existing in your cabin all by your twosomeness.

Despite being caught in the act by just a mutual friend of yours (and not Ms Kelley), the metalhead and you still broke apart hastily.

A hint of panic overcame Eddie at the sudden intrusion, making him let go of you, grabbing the pillow underneath his head and shoving it into the now existent gap in between your bodies, since you had discarded the sheets a while ago. Why need a blanket if you have a perfectly functioning Eddie Munson to keep you warm at night?

It surprised you that he didn't fall off the bed entirely with how close to the edge of it he now was.

A relieved sigh escaped his lungs when he realised who really caught him stealing affectionate gestures from you.

Ms Robin Buckley had no problem with the both of you, she just wasn't expecting to find Eddie lying in your bed (slowly kissing you into oblivion) in her periphery while she was digging for her bathroom utensils so she could make sure she'd look less like a corpse for breakfast.

With "whatever this is, I didn't see it" and a loud open and close of the door, she excused herself, leaving you in your solitude.

With Max Mayfield. In the top bunk above you two, which she loudly made you remember as soon as Eddie got up to follow Robin's trace outside with a quick "uh, see you in a bit, sweetness", still clutching your pillow over his front while waddling his way over to the safety of his own cabin in which Dustin was probably still snoring into the next millenium.

"Soooo, what did I just wake up to? Hm?", you heard Max say with the most curious undertone after the door closed behind Eddie, as you rolled onto your back, already finding the emptiness and lack of warmth caused by Prince Metal's exit rather unpleasant.

Your only response was a groan as you pulled the sheets up and all the way over your head.

The pathetic attempt to hide wasn't meant as a long-term solution since your lungs unfortunately started craving oxygen at some point.

"Go away!"

It came out more as a mumble than a yell, mainly due to the muffling effect of the layer of fabric between your head and Max' ears, and as you pulled your head out from under the blanket covering your entire figure only to see Max' head poking out from the bunk above you, her long red mane dangling down towards the ground, you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks.

You had kinda seen it coming already, the struggle with having to explain yourself in the morning when your roommates would find Eddie snoozing peacefully in your arms.

But now it really hit.

You had just slept next to him. Literally kissed your crush. Who wasn't really a crush anymore. To you, Eddie was a lot more than that already.

Max just giggled at your response, jumping out of her bunk and continuing her teasing for the rest of the morning.

Well, at least until you joined the rest of the gang for breakfast.

Today was your last full day, and that meant going on another sweaty (yet beautiful) hike, a heated and intense capture the flag session in which Eddie didn't leave your side once, claiming that as your seat partner he also had the obligation to protect you from potentially evil forest spirits, and you also filled out the day by attending a cooking workshop, pairing up with Nancy.

Eddie – having to detach his everlingering hand on some part of your body throughout the day now – spent time with Max, Dustin and Steve, still successfully avoiding being dragged to the yoga session by the latter.

You guessed they were attending a class about forest herbs and survival tipps, an absolute necessity should they ever get lost in the vastness of a random national park one day.

Peeling potatoes at the counter of the outdoor kitchen, you peered over to the pathway as the group of students including your friends walked past, trying to spot your favourite out of them.

Eddie found your longing glance and returned it, along with the widest grin and a little bashful wave of his ringed hand.

You felt your heart jump at the vision, absentmindedly waving back with the hand that held the potato by two fingers, smiling like the most lovedrunk idiot.

The moment was fleeting, because he collided mere milliseconds later with Dustin's backside, giving the kid a gentle slap on the back of his head for stopping unexpectedly just to inspect the shape of a leaf from the tree next to him, making him look silly and like a total dork in front of you.

Your smile turned into a full on giggle when Eddie gave you a sheepishly yearning last look before the little gathering lead by Mr Clarke continued on the pathway, leading further into the forest and out of your periphery.

God, you loved him.

The day in its entirety was peaceful despite the doom of having to pack up and make sure not to forget anything that might have slipped underneath the beds. You were supposed to leave early in the morning just to be back in Hawkins before nightfall.

Even though you were growing tired of mosquito bites and flies viewing your meals as theirs, you couldn't be bothered to come up with feelings of homesickness. Not when you were surrounded by your loving friend group, Prince Metal and the serene oasis in the forest.

-----

The sun was about to set, casting a golden glow over the crowns of the pine trees swallowing the camp, light breezes of wind making the arms and twigs of the more leafy trees rustle softly every now and then.

Eddie got up from the couch he was lounging on, taking a semi nap in the presence of Dustin, Max and Jonathan after the intense workshop and stuffing himself at the surprisingly rich buffet your teachers had organised for your last evening.

He'd been subtly eyeing you from underneath the tall pergola, chatting and laughing with Steve and Robin by the bonfire which was already rising tall into the sky in the clearing of trees between pergola and pathway to the cabins.

The perfect way your clothes hugged your curves, the thin fabric of your shirt and adding its absolute nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples (also maybe due to you not finding it necessary to wear a bra), the stunning way your hair was shining in the start of golden hour, face illuminated by the fire in front of you, the enchanting way you curled your lips at a joke Steve had made (he even felt a tinge of jealousy creep into the center of his stomach), the entirely dazzling way your shirt had ridden up a little, showing skin between the waistband of your shorts and the hem of it.

And it was giving him ideas.

To anyone else these little things and details didn't seem too worthy to pay attention to, but Eddie noticed. He noticed you stealing wistful glances, making their way over to him here and there (and after the night he had, he was sure they weren't meant for Dustin), he noticed every inch of your skin that would unintentionally reveal itself to him from the ways in which you moved, he noticed the way your smile changed into something so astonishing when directed at him. Special.

You never looked at Steve like that. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Being as chronically touch starved as a metalhead outcast town freak could be, Eddie decided that it was too much. He couldn't not be near you any longer.

Your breath hitched in your throat just as you saw him get up and make his way over to you, a mix of confidence and shyness combined in his strut, before he came to a stop at the end of the log you were seated on, right next to your side.

"M'lady? May I ask her grace to walk with me?", you heard his voice say softly, a distinctly hopeful tone, warm and filled with the bashfulness from earlier in the day. Eddie met your smile with one equally wide.

A hand with ringed fingers was held out to you and you took it.

He lead you away from the group, away from everyone else, down the path towards the cabins where no one was at this hour, after he had intertwined your fingers with his own, the metal of his rings giving your fingers a little extra squeeze.

"It's nice to be sitting with the others and all, and I really enjoyed Dustin's ideas for Hellfire's next campaign, but", Eddie paused as he came to a still in his walk down to where your sleeping quarters were located, turning around to face you as his hand refused to let go of yours, right before continuing in the softest voice, barely audible, "I was hoping we could just leave them for a bit and enjoy the last evening a little more .. in private?"

Eddie leaned in a little closer with every word jumping over his lips.

Until he was inches away from yours, finding your eyes and you noticed the slight change of tone in the warm brown ocean of his. It had turned a shade or two darker as you reciprocated his beguiling gaze.

Oh, how easy it was for you to get entirely lost in it.

"I think that's an intriguing idea, Eddie", you replied with a smile, hoping he'd see and sense the same thing in your own eyes that was so clearly reflected in his. For you and for this reason, it was never difficult to look into them for long. Especially when he was so intently watching you.

A hand snuck around your waist, pulling you closer so your bellies would touch, the hand previously attached to yours now cupping your cheek, thumb softly running over the apple of it, head leaning in even further. Eddie's gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips and back in a matter of seconds, letting you know exactly what he was about to do.

Your hands found the little hairs at the nape of his neck, curling around the sides of it, lightly pulling as the plushness of his lips reunited with yours.

He hummed at the feeling, the moment filled with so much familiarity already. Without breaking contact, he gently cupped the other side of your face with his other hand, holding you there, needing you there.

Ever so softly, your lips moved against his, a moment you wished would last forever.

"I've been thinking about you all day", he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you, lips landing on your pulse point. Breathing warmly against the skin there as he mumbled something along the lines of "they kept me away from my cute seat partner for way too long" before letting out a warm chuckle.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, still getting flustered by the directness of his flirting attempts. They were effective though, because you couldn't help but squeeze the back of his neck lightly with one hand while your other sneaked around his waist and underneath the hem of his shirt, reconnecting with its favourite place, the warmth and softness of skin on Eddie's back.

"It is an incredible atrocity indeed", you said with a giggle, making him raise his head back to face you, and the spark in his eyes gave you enough of a confidence rush, "I think we should make up for lost time then."

Waisting not a second longer, Eddie grabbed your hand again, and before you knew it, he had you affectionately pressed between the inside of his cabin's door and his body in a whimpering mess.

His kisses were getting hungrier, more demanding, yet there was a gentleness to it that let you know that you could stop this any second if you didn't want it.

"Is this okay, baby? We don't have to do anything if you don't want–", he asked in between sloppy pecks over your cheeks, jaw, down your neck that made you giggle lightly at his manners. It's not like his hands were all over you already, yet he was wondering if anything he was doing was alright with you.

"I can't get enough of you if I'm honest", you cut him off quietly, feeling the heat pooling in your underwear from the sensation of just about everything right now.

You were very well aware of the thing you were about to do. Crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, letting Eddie see you for all that you were, and giving him the freedom to choose.

Spoiler – he chose you.

Had done so since the moment you stepped onto the bus on that parking lot back home.

"Fuck, sweetness, you can't just say stuff like that", Eddie's voice came out huskily, he clearly was getting worked up over your response to his actions since he had you pinned to the door by the hips, his thigh in between yours, while his fingertips explored the skin of your waist underneath your shirt, lips still hovering over the expanse of your neck, brushing his nose upwards along the column of it, but this time a lot more slowly than the previous times.

He seemed to want to savour every single second he was granted access to your body like this, dragging each movement out as far as possible.

His wide, dark brown doe eyes returned to yours as he exhaled, "and expect me to be normal about it."

You didn't waste another second without your lips on his, pulling him back towards you by the chain which was holding his favourite guitar pick around his neck, eliciting a moan against your mouth out of him.

The only thing on Eddie's mind was you you you, the warmth of your perfect skin under his palms, the feeling of your pretty pink lips against his own, even the smell of you alluring him to no end.

Breaking away to catch your breath with eyes still closed, your lips curled into a smile when Eddie's hands wandered higher and higher while leaving goosebumps on the way, thumbs softly catching the underside of your tits, making you let out a content little sigh, as if his hands had just found their home, belonging right there.

His lips reunited with the skin on your neck, a moan escaping them as his thumbs reached your hard nipples, your neck vibrating lightly against his mouth when a moan of your own forced itself out of your lungs and your back arched away from the door for a second.

It had been a long time since anyone had touched you there, never in this way before though, which amplified every little touch Eddie practically worshipped you with.

A shudder ripped through you at the overwhelming sensation, it made you dizzy with want.

"It's so fucking hot when you twitch under my touch", Eddie almost whispered against your neck, and you were certain his voice couldn't drop any lower as he slowly rolled one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, before raising his head just to watch your reaction even more closely.

"Yeah?"

His actions made you swallow hard, well aware of being at his mercy at the moment.

And yes, Eddie Munson continued the torture he was teasing you with.

"Yeah baby", he lightly poked his nose into your cheek for a second, "so what if I told you", he paused again, then kissed the corner of your mouth, "that I actually felt those little twitches", he tenderly kissed his way down over your cheek to your jaw, "throughout the whole week?"

One of his hands now left your chest, only to drop south.

He made it his mission to find out exactly what you liked. Find out what did it for you, what you wanted from him. What you needed from him.

"I'm curious to know what would happen if I touched you", he paused, lips millimeters away from the skin right beneath your ear, "here?"

A hand snaked around your figure, cupping one of your buttcheeks, the need for you heavily evident in the urgency of the touch.

You responded with another moan through closed lips, eyes closed, your hands finding the back of Eddie's neck again, lightly caressing his skin and tugging at the baby hairs there.

"Yeah, you like that baby, don't you? When I touch you here?"

A light spank.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded with a hum and another moan, cheek rubbing slowly and gently against his scruffy own as your hips involuntarily bucked up against his thigh.

Every movement was slow and gentle right now, yet heavy with hunger for each other.

Eddie noticed. Yet, he decided to take his sweeeeet time and drive you insane just a little longer.

"What about", he paused again, and you felt him smile against your neck as his hand still cupping your chest started kneading a little, rolling the nipple harder just to make sure you actually felt it, "here?"

The back of your head landed against the door with a thud as you moaned and whimpered a little louder this time, the shiteating grin on Eddie's face widening even more, obviously taking pride in his effects on you.

"You're making such pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Would you maybe also like me to touch you", another pause, in which he moved his hand around your hips, boldly cupping the space between your legs through the thinness of your shorts, "here?"

His breath was tickling the skin on your neck, the last word nothing more than an almost inaudible whisper, traveling all the way down from your jaw to your collarbone.

"Fuck, Eddie", you whimpered out his name, completely lost in him, moving your own hands downtown to where his hellfire shirt was tucked into the waistband of his light blue jeans, just when you suddenly remembered you had a pair of your own.

Hearing you say his name made Eddie shamelessly buck his hips into yours, failing pathetically at hiding the fact that what he was doing to you was also more than enjoyable for him, since you could clearly make out the heavy bulge straining against his pants, pressed against your hip.

"Mhm yeah, such a good girl for me", Eddie chuckled watching you for another second before reuniting your lips with his own, this time with a force of need, almost greedily taking your lower lip between his own for a second, swiping his tongue along, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

From slow and gentle to a feverish fumble of hands everywhere, it didn't take the both of you long to start freeing each other from the confines of your clothes.

Eddie had lifted your shirt off of you, finally freeing what he'd been dying to get his eyes (and hands) on, and you'd done the same to him, only to take a second to admire the few more tattoos that had until now been hiding from your gaze.

You noticed he was holding his breath, wild mane falling into the sides of his face from your ruffling during heated kisses, and the room suddenly felt a lot warmer.

The only thought in your mind was Eddie in front of you, just a small step away, now in nothing but his boxers, looking at you with an intensity you'd never seen before in him, and your fingers twitched with the desire to just touch.

You had run your hand just over the buckle of his handcuff belt, the movement of his pants against his erection already making him hiss a little. You'd run it over the fabric of the black jeans he was wearing, right where he wanted you most.

Because yeah, you could do that, too.

Eddie had found the pace in which you'd opened his belt to be way too slow, but he'd let you go with it anyway, being so lost in you and so lovedrunk (and straight up horny) that he hadn't dared to intervene.

Your slowness-slash-hesitation had a reason. The anxiety and intrusive thoughts of not being good enough, being too inexperienced decided to jump out of its dark corner inside your brain in just the right moment, causing you to back away from him, giving him a second to have his gaze wander over you.

It wasn't that you'd never done this before, there had been a guy you'd more or less been with, but this right here and now was just so different. More serious? Eddie wasn't just a guy. He was your Eddie at this point.

And however this trip would end, things would inevitably be changed between the two of you. And ultimately affect the dynamics of your friend group.

Eddie was a sensitive person. He was able to read the room, sense your hesitation. He closed the gap between you, his hand landing on your hip, bellies touching, hardness pressing against your thigh.

"Everything alright, darling?"

Cupping your cheek with his free hand, he tilted his head to find your eyes, the look in his filled with concern now, wondering if this was still okay for you.

Your arms snaked around his torso, fingertips lingering on his waist. He felt them burn through his skin.

A train of seemingly endless thoughts ran through your head, not knowing how to proceed from your lack of having done this enough times to just know, paired with the expectations you believed Eddie to have of this situation, and therefore, of you.

"Yeah, yeah", you assured him. The last thing you wanted was for him to believe he'd done anything wrong.

"It's just that", you paused, struggling to find the words to explain yourself and the rise of your performance anxiety while trying your best to avoid his puppy doe eye gaze, "I haven't really–"

A warm thumb on your lips cut you off, its hand directing your face towards his, the hand on your hip now lightly digging into the flesh there.

"I know baby, I know", Eddie said, referring to his wisdom with unknown origin to you, exhaling deeply before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your plush cheek, the gesture intending to let you know that you could be utterly honest and vulnerable with him. "Would you like me to show you", another pause, his gaze back on your face, thumb now lightly pulling down your lower lip, "what I like?"

Opening your mouth as a response, the tip of your tongue was briefly met with the tip of Eddie's thumb, causing him to twitch lightly and let out a groan through closed lips.

Everything you did and everything you were in your essence was driving him to the edge of insanity, not surprising after the months and months of thirsting after you in his desperate silence.

And his gentleness with you was making the dark imposter syndrome clouds in your head melt away like Lindor chocolate in mild temperatures.

His eyes bored into yours intently as you stuck your tongue out to meet the base of his thumb, just to drag it all the way up to the tip, before closing your lips around it and suck lightly.

"Mhhm, fuck", you heard him mutter, the effect your actions seemed to have on him giving you enough confidence to let his thumb go with a small pop, your hands still lingering on his waist pushing him a step away from you so you'd have enough space to drop to your knees, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them towards gravity to finally free him.

With precum leaking from the tip, you took a second to admire Eddie's girth and length with wide eyes, and it made your mouth water and your panties even more soaked than they already were.

Taking him in your hand, you smeared the precum down to the base where a light thatch of dark curls sat, leading up to his happy trail which you'd already gotten to lay sight on on the bus, and that time frankly hadn't been the first of you imagining what the place to where that trail was leading looked like.

Leaning upwards, you kept ahold of him, kissing the soft skin of his lower belly right above his curls as his hand buried itself in your hair at the back of your head, letting out a guttural moan when you let your tongue run through the tiny hairs leading up to his navel, just to kiss your way back down again, slowly, gently, all the way over the soft expanse, taking another second to bury your nose in his skin, inhaling everything he was willing to offer you.

He was about to ask you if you could pinch him just to make sure this was reality happening right in front of him, you kneeling all pretty with your hand wrapped around his cock, now slowly lifting it and flattening your tongue at the base to lick a broad stripe up along the underside, making you feel each little vein on the way to his pink tip.

"Jesus, fuuuck, that's it baby", you just heard him encourage you, indeed letting you know what he liked, his grip on your hair tightening lightly.

The fact that you could feel him throb and twitch and hear him whimper slurred renditions of your name alongside small curses gave you a significant ego boost, causing you to find enough confidence to lock eyes with him from underneath your lashes.

"Fuck, and you were worried that you wouldn't be good at this?", Eddie chuckled as he looked down at you in disbelief, his free hand not tangled up in the strands of hair cupping your cheek to affectionately brush his thumb over it, unable to ever get the image in front of him out of his brain.

"Fucking hell, you're being soooo good for me baby, oh my god, yeah, just like that", he mumbled when you started swirling your tongue around the head, softly rubbing the tip of it over the underside every now and then, until you decided to close your lips around him, letting him feel your wet warmth.

It gave Eddie a great idea of a similar place he was dying to discover. Itching.

And it took every little ounce of willpower in him to keep his hips away from giving into the urge to thrust his entire length into the confines of your mouth, so out of respect for you, he channelled his impulses into a symphony of soft moans, quiet mutters of oh, fuck and oh my god, and whimpers of your name as you took him deeper with every bob of your head.

Every little sound escaping him only turned you on even more. You couldn't possibly get enough of seeing him all blissed out and soft for you like this, causing the vibrations of your own moans to make Eddie shudder.

However, he didn't give himself too much time to enjoy the feeling of your mouth taking him, since he was already bending down a little to lift you back up to your feet, before capturing your lips in a hot and heavy kiss while pulling you tightly into his embrace, both of his hands sliding down from your lower back and underneath the fabric of your panties, just to end their journey on your ass and roughly pull you against him.

"I'm gonna cum on the spot if you keep doing that", he'd declared, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your neck, nibbling softly at the skin, making your cheeks flush with heat.

No one had ever said that to you.

You winced at the roller coaster he put you on, his back and forth between rough and demanding and gentle and soft, but you were eating it up.

He was hypnotizing you with every touch and every grunt and every move you felt against your lips.

Not even when the backs of your knees hit the bed frame did he let go of you, resulting in him burying you into his mattress under his weight, commented with a giggle from the both of you.

Moving to your side, he reconnected his lips to your neck and you craned your head up, giving him better access while one of his hands slowly moved around to your front, cupping you through your panties, his middle finger lightly pressing into that very damp spot in the fabric, eliciting a moan out of you.

It was his turn now.

"Wanna make you feel good too, sweetness. Gonna let me, yeah?", his sultry voice didn't even wait for a response, impatient fingers moving the lace to the side before running the middle through your folds, tip of it catching your clit briefly.

"Oh fuck yes!" There it was. You breathed the words out in a whiny tone, your hand reaching down to give his still rock hard cock a few sloppy strokes in return, earning another soft moan against the junction of your jaw meeting your throat.

If the situation wasn't this hot, if Eddie's finger didn't make the room spin, you think you'd be embarrassed to no end with how pathetic your moans were sounding, but the pleasure you were experiencing and the metalhead's tender endearments you were receiving just didn't leave any space for any other feeling.

You just couldn't bring yourself to care.

Eddie didn't care either. In fact, he was bathing in your responsiveness, feeling every single one of your touches in the endings of his tiniest nerve branches. Being the touch starved, crucified town freak and all.

Your neediness for him made his insides turn and his head spin, he was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that you'd let him come this close and do this to you, and your cute little whimpers made him want to give you everything you'd ever silently (or not so silently) request from him.

He felt this entire moment after moment to be a haze, a fever dream he'd wake up from at some point, and for this reason, he didn't waste a single thought on anything else but you.

How infatuated with you he was.

"Mhhm fuck, so needy for me baby, aren't you?", he remarked the way you were bucking your hips against his hand, "drives me fucking nuts."

He lifted his head just so he could watch the way your face crinkled with every slow up-and-down stroke of his finger, gathering your evident arousal on the way before gently pushing it in, indulging the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head for just a second before they opened and found the warm deep dark brown of his own.

"Mhh yes Eddie, need you so bad", you managed to get out as he added his ring finger, stretching you open a bit more under slick sounds of his hand against your cunt.

His face was so close. So close that if you turned your head just a little, your kiss swollen lips could be back on his, giving him one more confirmation that the way his fingers were curling inside of you were doing just the right job. In fact, he was finding spots you could only dream to reach on your own.

You felt more precum leak from the tip of his cock which was resting against your thigh, the slow rut of his hips against yours smearing it between your bodies, causing your brain to short-circuit at the realisation that it was you being the reason for him to act this way.

Only making you spread your legs wider.

"God baby, you're so fucking wet", he trailed off, continuing to slowly fuck his two fingers into your tight entrance, completely enticed with the way you were giving yourself to him, "is that all because of me?"

He just needed to hear you say it.

"Mhh fuck yes Eddie, all for you. For you only."

No idea how you got that out, with the way his fingers felt and the way he was looking at you, all lovedrunk and ready to give you the world.

"You gonna let me have a taste?"

Pulling his hand away and leaving you empty under a protesting whimper, he sucked the two fingers into his mouth, moaning against them without breaking eye contact and it was driving you mad. You nodded with a dazed smile.

He got up just to drop his weight between your legs, spreading them by planting his palms on the backs of your thighs firmly and pushing them up, panties still to the side.

You held your legs there when he moved his hands down, taking both thumbs to open you up for him, taking just a second to get his first actual look at your pussy and watch it glisten in the dim light of the sun casting its last rays of the day through the denseness of trees and into the room.

Eddie had fantasized plenty for literal months about the way you'd possibly look, but nothing prepared him for the actual sight in front of him.

It made you feel the most vulnerable you'd ever felt, letting him see and touch you this way, yet there was a naturalness to it that made it just so easy to give yourself to him.

Building trust with him seemed to be the easiest thing for you. Surprising yourself there, aren't ya?

And when his tongue shyly took its first swirl around your clit? Nothing was ever easier than Eddie.

Waves of pleasure took over your brain with every lap of his mouth, taking you between his lips, licking, sucking, swirling, slurping, making your thighs twitch with every single one of his moves, and he was (quite literally) eating your responsiveness up, each of his moans against the most sensitive part of your body becoming deeper in sound.

He noticed he could cum just from tasting you as he found his hips inconsistently humping the mattress, hearing your sweet chants as one of your hands found its way back into his unruly mane, encouraging him further in his actions.

"Fuuuck baby, I need you. Need all of you, please?", you whimpered just when the heat in your lower stomach was about to reach its peak, raising your head as your eyes encountered the way he was watching you from underneath his bangs sticking to his forehead, the hand not entangled in his hair busy fisting his bedsheets.

That was the only thing he needed to hear.

You could feel him smile, continuing to do so as he pushed himself up on his knees and crawling a few inches forward to be eye to eye hovering over you, chin, lips and tip of his nose glistening with your juices, the ends of his dark curls tickling your cheeks. He helped you wriggle out of your panties swiftly, discarding them on the cabin floor to join the rest of your clothes, hands resting on the softness of your thighs as he knelt back to sit on his heels.

He felt his dick twitch between his legs, seeing you lying and spread out underneath in front of him, in all your glory, ready to let him take you where you wanted to be most.

The vision tugging at his heartstrings, knowing how much trust you were instilling in him in order for you to let him go this far with you.

"Eddie, please."

You pushed yourself up to meet his lips, planting one hand on the back of his neck, the other hooked a finger into the chain dangling down like a collar, and without breaking away you pulled him back down with you.

"Yeah? Wanna feel me fill your pretty little pussy?", he breathed out, hands back on your thighs, digging into their plushness.

You believed to hear Eddie's voice to drop an octave, now leaning back again to let the underside of his cock slowly glide through your soaked folds, the head catching on your clit deliciously, making your head spin from having him do this to you.

"God, yes", you moaned out, watching him through heavy eyelids.

Eddie smiled his dimpled smile down at your face, reveling in the sight as he let the tip breach your sopping entrance, giving him an idea of how tightly his cock would be sitting inside of you.

His eyes were fixated on the spot where your bodies were now joined, slowly pushing another inch in as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer.

"Eyes on me, baby", Eddie mouthed at your jawline as he leaned back down to place a quick kiss there, right when he noticed you zoning out, focusing on taking him as best as you possibly could.

Once again your eyes found the warm gaze he was observing your every move with, and soon you felt his lips back on your own, kissing you softly as he slowly pushed all the way in, forcing a gasp out of your lungs at the feeling of utter fullness.

For a moment, the world stopped.

Eddie blinked at you through half-lidded eyes now, nudging his nose against your own before capturing your lips in another heated kiss, sending both of your tongues dancing and a moan from the pit of his lungs vibrated through your system.

Your hands moved up to cup his face, holding him close to you as his trailed up the underside of your thighs, before pushing your knees towards your chest, practically bending you in half and slowly starting to move his hips against your own when he felt you adjust to him.

"Oh fuck, fuuuck you're so tight", Eddie sighed, eyes falling shut at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in like that, and his words ringing through your ears, and hearing him admit to you what you were making him feel? It made you clench around him briefly, goosebumps spread over every inch of your body at the words forming on his tongue.

You were just so warm and wet and soft and so so tight, completely fucked out for him and him only.

"Eyes on me, baby", you repeated his own words back to him with a smile and glassy eyes, completely stunned to feel him like this, slowly filling and leaving you again.

Opening his eyes again to meet your gaze, his lips curled into a wide smile at your sentiment, "gonna be soft with you, unless you want me not to be, yeah?", he leaned down to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth, forearms now resting on each side of your head, before his last words were nuzzled against your ear, "just tell me, sweetnose."

With his announcement he gave you a few more slow and gentle thrusts, getting both of you used to the feeling, before he moved back up again, holding your thighs spread out against your chest, his eyes glued to where his heavy cock slid in and out of your sopping slick hole.

Heat was spreading through his body, an excessive amount of endorphines circulating through his veins, transporting the desire and hunger for you into the tiniest endings of his nerves, causing his entire system to be in the moment with you.

Same thing applied to you.

It didn't take long for him to pick up the pace, right after he moved a pillow under your hips, with the aim to hit your sweet spot at just the right angle, slide his entire length in even deeper, making the tip kiss your cervix repeatedly.

Moans and whimpers and grunts and groans from both your mouths where conjuring a whole opera of beautiful sounds you both were reveling in equally as you moved your hips to meet his repeated thrusting, tip of his cock brushing over that spot inside of you each time he moved in to fill the space between your drenched walls.

His entire weight was on you, since he wanted to sink his teeth back into the soft flesh of your neck, nibbling and sucking at the skin there. Your hands found a home in his hair, gently scratching his scalp, sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and you felt a puddle slowly take its form on the cover of the pillow tucked underneath your ass.

He was so deep, so so deep inside of you, his eyes bored themselves through yours straight into your soul, foreheads touching.

"Fuck, fuck, Eddie, feels so good", you babbled and moaned against his stubbly cheek, your heavy breath tickling down his own neck, "need more."

The knot in your lower abdomen was already tightening, getting ready to snap from just his feral thrusts and the beguiling way he was eyeing you.

"Yeah baby? Wanna cum for me?"

Your neediness made him chuckle, raising himself up and back on his heels, a strong arm wrapping around your torso and pulling you up with him, into his lap, letting one of his hands rest on and dig into your plush thigh.

He let himself drop on his butt, the hand on your thigh slowly trailing up up up, fingertips and palm climbing softly all the way over your back to come and stay on the back of your neck, encasing you fully and pressing you against his chest, letting you know he needed you just as close as you needed him.

Without even thinking about it your hips started moving against his as you straddled him, your kiss swollen lips finding his own again, panting into each others mouths, and soon enough the knot between your legs came close to snapping, from the change of position, the length of his cock now gliding smoothly against your clit with each rock of your hips, creating the delicious friction you so desperately craved.

"Yes baby, that's it, lose it for me, oh god fuck!", Eddie panted as he felt your hips starting to stutter, his words sending you over the edge, cunt spasming and clenching around him, your frantic breaths hitting his face as your head was thrown back.

He was soaking you up with all the sweet sounds you were making for him, helping you ride out your high, hands moving down to your ass to lift you, just after announcing his own release through a sickeningly deep moan and mumbles of "oh fuck baby, so close, gonna make me– oh shit", hot and sticky saltiness joining your sweet juices, landing in the tight space between your bellies, painting undefinable patterns onto the heated skin.

For another eternity you held each other close, felt his breathing against your shoulder and collarbone as he dipped his head to place a kiss to your throat, moving his hands away from your back to cup your face, pressing his lips to yours, not wanting to let the moment go just yet.

And then, he dropped the bomb.

"Say that you're mine", he still panted, forehead leaning against yours, noses touching as your hands cupped his on top of your cheeks.

It made you chuckle, the fact he was asking this now after fucking you into another dimension, and it made your thumbs brush over the backs of his palms.

You sensed the tension still present in every fiber of his being with the way he was holding onto your face, still needing you close, and since you knew about his abandonment issues to some extent, seeing him all vulnerable like this was tugging at your heartstrings to no end.

None of his usual slightly cocky tone, just pure softness and an open heart was what presented itself to you.

Say that you're mine.

Of course you were his.

Your facial expression softened endlessly, you felt all your insides melt into one big puddle, mouth forming into a small pout, one hand coming down to rest on his own cheek, closing the gap and slotting your lower lip in between his.

You wanted him to feel the amount of affection you had for him, in your eyes, in your kiss, in your touch.

He was supposed to feel loved. Like he should always have felt that he was loved.

"I'm all yours, Eddie. But only if you're all mine."

The look in your eyes said it all. The one in his, too.

Yeah. He was your Eddie. Your seat partner. Your magnet.

Eddie pulled you into him, as if hearing the words come out of your mouth and the way you were looking at him all soft and gooey made all his angst about being dropped and left again slowly vanish.

"I'll need some time to get used to this", he paused, not daring to meet your eye, "I mean, to someone that doesn't just leave after a while."

Since being this close to someone emotionally was about equally far away from any routine for you as well, you met him with utmost understanding.

"That's okay. We're in no rush, right?", you kissed the corner of his mouth, small pecks over the stubbly cheek opposite of where your hand was placed.

You were able to watch him get too much into his head as you spoke.

"You sure about that? I don't think the law of seat partners extends to–"

Your lips pressed to his own cut him off, "you don't need a silly law to make me wanna spend time with you, Munson."

A quick journey of your eyes over his beautiful face, his eyes widened, eyebrows raised, lips curled into a pretty smile, cheeks all rosy and forehead bangs sticking to his forehead from your most recent activities.

"Actually, I've been dreaming of you – and this – since I met you at Steve's for the first time and Dustin introduced you to me as his ultra handsome dungeon master, you remember?", you continued, hoping it would give him an idea how how much you'd been wistfully pining after him, an idea about how wanted he was.

Of course Eddie remembered.

It was the night he had left way earlier than usual because he just couldn't stand being around you without making a colossal fool out of himself for already wanting to be close to you after just thirty minutes of being in the same room, afraid to be coming on way too strong for his reputation and, speaking from experience, ultimately scare you away.

His hands dropped from your face, two strong arms wrapping themselves back around your figure as he breathed in your sweat-sticky scent, desperately trying one more time to glue this memory into the long-term department of his brain.

"Wait, does that mean I could have .. could've had you .. all this time?"

A chuckle escaped your lips, before leaning into him once more, planting another sweet kiss to his mouth.

"Yeah silly, ... all this time."

-----

Home was calling you back into the bleak reality of trying to graduate high school, and you were far from missing it.

Nancy using her famous organizational talents had made sure that Robin wouldn't leave her special pillow behind, and instructed you to look extra carefully for any items that might have flown behind the bedframe.

And she was correct. You'd blindly reached for a little white framed polaroid, only to discover that it was the one of Eddie with his flower crown, eyes squeezed shut, grinning like an absolute idiot.

He still, maybe even more so now, looked angelic.

You'd never forgive yourself if you'd leave that one here.

The ride home was spent with your head on Prince Metal's shoulder for the most part, your back practically lying on his chest, huddled up against him.

And it did take all the strength in the both of you to not constantly be all over each other, especially under the scrutinizing eyes of your teachers.

A few pecks were stolen here and there, the feeling of being entirely lovedrunk making it hard to separate. Thankfully, for the foreseeable future, you didn't have to.

The group had just shot you knowing looks at breakfast, Max, Robin and the older guys who had seen you wrapped (and very covered up, Eddie had made sure of that) in Eddie's sheets in the morning responsible for not being able to keep their beaks shut.

For the long hours you'd be spending on the road, Eddie had organized a restock of snacks at the only supermarket in the first town you'd stopped at on the way.

"As your designated seat partner, it is so hard to keep my hands to myself", you mumbled into the fabric of the dark and washed out Metallica shirt covering his shoulder with a sheepish grin, as your hand slowly disappeared into the bag on his lap, pulling out whatever box of cookies he'd chosen.

Eddie couldn't help but snort at your innuendo and the way you were using his own joke on him in return.

Lowering his head, planting his cheek against your temple, whispers.

"Oh baby, just wait until we're home."

-----

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