#i’m like a bird and i’m flying far away…

[caffedrine]

Gilbert von Obsidian - The Boundary of Touch - Event Summary

I pretty much have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t trust me, and you shouldn’t either. This summary is not guaranteed to be accurate, it’s mostly written for myself to follow along with Gilbert.

The conference room in the Obsidian Castle always has a solemn, heavy atmosphere, even though Gilbert is in a relatively good mood today. He has brought Emma to this meeting where Gilbert’s advisors discuss reforms for the country. Seeing everyone else in perfect military uniform and formation, Emma can’t help but straighten her own posture.

Gilbert complains that they only bring him problems and no solutions, and he has no use for people who can’t think for themselves. Overall, though, he is pleased with their ideas and ends the meeting. Afterward, he asks Emma for her impressions, and she thanks him for allowing her to attend. Despite what he said earlier, Emma noticed that the personnel had presented many solutions, and if unforeseen circumstances need them to change course, she thinks they presented useful backup plans that wouldn’t be difficult to implement.

Well, if Emma thinks they’re useful, Gilbert doesn’t see the need to ‘fire’ his advisors. Emma frowns, in Obsidian, this is technically a threat. Gilbert laughs at her expression and tells her that he was just kidding, and he agrees with her that the advisors are improving. A little bit. With a smile, he intertwines his fingers with hers.

Oh, this brings back memories of last night, and Emma’s heart skips a beat. And just after the solemn and formal atmosphere of the conference! Emma feels guilty even as she squeezes Gilbert’s hand.

Gilbert laughs, she’s feeling a bit clingy today. Emma flushes, just as a door opens behind her and she hears footsteps. She can feel a gaze on her and turns to look, but no one is looking at her. Maybe it was her imagination?

Later, when Emma passes Gilbert in the hallway, she catches the reflected gaze of a soldier from the window. Maybe it wasn’t her imagination, but what was with that look?

While Emma puzzles it, Gilbert asks what she’s thinking of.

Could it be that she’s getting too impersonal with Gilbert? Open affection goes against military training, the soldiers must disapprove of her constantly touching Gilbert.

Oh no, she has been very frivolous with him. No, she needs to improve herself and become more composed and more formal with Gilbert.

Emma assures Gilbert that it is nothing, she was distracted by a bird flying outside the window. Gilbert smiles faintly and doesn’t press it.

Later that night, Emma is sitting next to Gilbert on his bed as he gently plays with her hair. He warns her that she needs to get better at lying, while that pivot earlier was well done, her expression right now is ruining it. That poor bird outside the window would be so sad.

Oh, he noticed. Well, of course, he did.

And on that note, Emma can imagine what his reaction would be if she told him truthfully that she thinks people disapprove of how much she clings to him.

Gilbert only smiles at her and asks if she won’t say it. Of course, if she does, he will kill everyone in the castle. He’ll erase everyone, just for her.

(Hahaha, he’s not joking)

Fine, she’ll explain herself. Emma explains that while she does feel people looking at her, she’s not embarrassed at being seen. It’s more that she’s embarrassed over her own shortcomings. She wants to touch him, but when she does, she feels her emotions get carried away. She doesn’t want to damage the dignified atmosphere he’s cultivated.

Oh, is that it? Gilbert doesn’t mind, he’s only like this with her. But if she wants to refrain from touching him in public, what can he do? Okay, tell him her limits and he’ll follow her lead.

Oh, uh, Emma was expecting more pushback about this. Gilbert shrugs glibly, he doesn’t mind testing this whim of hers. He also wants to see how far he can forgive her.

Err, right. Well, might as well strike while the fire’s hot. Emma asks if they can start tomorrow, and Gilbert agrees. He smiles sweetly and contently, but Emma can’t help but think that he has something nefarious planned.

The next day has Emma delivering documents to Gilbert. He greets her with his usual smile, their fingers brushing as he accepts the documents from her.

Is this okay?

At Emma’s confusion, Gilbert clarifies: is this type of touch acceptable within Emma’s limits? Demonstratively, Gilbert’s index finger slides along the tips of Emma’s fingers.

Uh, yeah. It’s fine.

Okay, what about this?

Gilbert’s fingers brush against the palm of Emma’s hand, and her heart starts hammering at the tingling feeling. Okay, does Gilbert understand they’re still in public?

Gilbert laughs, Emma is very serious about this. Emma asks if this bothers him at all, but he denies it. After all, he’s just touching her hand.

Staring intently at Emma, Gilbert pulls the documents away from her hand, his fingers trailing from her wrist to her fingertips.

What is off-limits? Gilbert invites Emma to touch him in a way that they can’t in public. He points out that they’re in his private office, so she can touch him however she wants.

And now Emma feels like they’re doing something naughty, trying not to get caught. Gently, Emma reaches out to touch Gilbert’s face.

Oh, so this is off limits too? Does Emma realize that Walter often touches Gilbert’s face during his checkups? Well, great news for Gilbert then! He’ll just have to tell Walter that touching his face is off-limits now!

Oh no! Walter is touching Gilbert for a medical procedure, so it doesn’t count.

Gilbert disagrees, if touching his face is too inappropriate for public, then the intent doesn’t matter, the act is still off-limits.

Gilbert grasps Emma’s hand and brings it up towards his eyepatch. Emma tries to snatch her hand back, but Gilbert’s grip is too strong. First one, then a second finger disappears beneath his eye-patch.

Gilbert explains that for him, this means nothing; it’s just touching his eyepatch. But, from Emma’s expression, it’s different for her. As Gilbert uses her fingers to lift his eyepatch, Emma’s heart nearly hammers out of her chest. She whines that this is far from okay.

Oh, what a shame.

Gilbert lets go of Emma’s hand and muses that grabbing her hand probably wasn’t okay for public either. Though they are alone, they are outside of their bedroom. He asks for her forgiveness. Emma assures him that he’s fine, it’s up to her to restrain herself.

Gilbert asks if Emma has figured out her thresholds yet. Can they still hold hands? He’d be so lonely if they couldn’t.

Emma decides that she’ll limit it to saying that touching faces is off-limits. Gilbert nods, he’ll let Walter know as well.

Nope! Gilbert isn’t getting out of his medically necessary exams that easily-

The sound of footsteps approaching stops Emma, and she apologizes for interrupting Gilbert, and hurries away. As she leaves his office, she sees Roderic approaching, and despite not being able to see his face, can almost feel his gaze boring into her.

Before long, she runs into Gilbert in the hallway. He reaches up to her cheek as if to pet her before stopping himself. Oops, he almost forgot! But if it’s what she want’s, he’ll comply.

Huh, usually Gilbert is a lot more pushy when he wants something. Is this some kind of trap?

Gilbert suddenly grabs Emma’s hand and brings it up to his neck. Politely, he asks why she looks so surprised, they said faces were off limits earlier, but not this.

Emma stutters as she feels Gilbert’s pulse beneath her fingers.

Ooh, Emma looks like she thinks this should be forbidden too. Well then.

Gilbert draws her hand down pressing it against his chest. He teases her, she must be very naughty if she is getting excited just by this.

But Gilbert does understand why she’s like this. Feeling his heartbeat is an intimate experience, touching something that no one else can touch. But, since she didn’t say this was off limits earlier, this must be an acceptable public display of affection.

Gilbert leans forward, and Emma can feel his breath on her face.

Oh no, Gilbert is in trouble. Now he can barely restrain himself. He asks Emma to figure out her limits by tonight, while he’s still feeling generous toward her.

And then Gilbert is gone.

Later, in her room, Emma considers Gilbert’s words as they permeate her brain like poison. What does she want?

She said that she doesn’t want to bother Gilbert’s solemn aura, but the main reason, if someone were to see her touching Gilbert . . .

Okay, restrictions on touching Gilbert wasn’t the issue. Instead, she needs to change her way of thinking. She remembers the conversation they had about how Walter could touch Gilbert all he wanted for medical reasons.

Eventually Gilbert visits Emma and sits on her bed next to her. He asks if she’s come up with her limits and Emma agrees.

Emma will touch him, but only for medical reasons.

Uh, medical reasons?

Right, like touching his arm to check his pulse, or his face to take his temperature. It’s all fine if it’s for health reasons!

After looking surprised, Gilbert bursts out in laughter. Emma really did think things through. This isn’t because she’s embarrassed at being seen, it’s that she’s developing dark, evil feelings that she is doing her best to avoid.

If he were to name those new feelings, he would imagine ‘possessiveness’ is the first one. She wants to touch him, to make it known that Gilbert is ‘her man’. But, she’s also very kind with the ‘pure heart’ so she cant bring herself to acknowledge those feelings. Hence, why she’s decided to avoid touching him in public.

Emma hangs her head in remorse, but there was one thing Gilbert missed. She didn’t want to show off that Gilbert was hers, but that she loved him most in the world.

Gilbert looks pleased. His poison is spreading through Emma, and the thought of her joining in his depravity sends shivers of joy down his spine. Will Emma ever forgive him?

No, Emma won’t blame Gilbert for this one. Besides, he hasn’t done anything evil to her recently.

Well, in that case, Gilbert will take the win. He grabs Emma’s hand and places it on his throat again, just like earlier.

Since it’s for medical reasons, there’s no reason to feel bad about it. She can medically feel him up all day in front of anyone and everyone.

Suddenly Gilbert’s mouth is on hers, his teeth nipping at her lower lip. Pulling back, he apologizes but he’s no longer feeling generous. Emma asks if by generous he means ‘listening to her selfishness’ but Gilbert denies this. No matter what, he will always listen to her.

No, seeing her struggle with dark emotions has Gilbert at his limit and he will no longer hold back. But he has no doubt that she’ll forgive him this gaffe, after all, she loves him the most. Before Emma can respond, Gilbert’s mouth is on hers again.

As the kiss deepens, Emma feels herself melting into Gilbert. The sensation of his heartbeat pulses through her, like a sweet poison.

Gilbert’s mouth is at her ear, at her neck, and then his teeth sink into her shoulder. The sharp pain makes her shift uncontrollably with want.

Gilbert murmurs that when people are forbidden something, it suddenly becomes more attractive. He shifts Emma’s hand from his neck to his face, noting that when she said that this was off-limits, it suddenly became exciting.

Emma gasps that this is all just a medical procedure. Gilbert laughs, Emma doesn’t look like she’s performing a routine medical examination.

Suddenly Gilbert is over her, pinning the hand that was on his face to the bed. Emma feels his tongue trace down her throat only to feel a small sharp pain at the base. Gilbert apologizes for hurting her but warns her that he won’t stop. If he’s going to indulge her selfishness, he expects her to indulge him.

Suddenly Emam is lifted to sit in Gilbert’s lap with her back against his chest. Again, his teeth sink into her shoulder blade as his fingers reach down under her skirt to stir inside her.

Oh no, is Gilbert making her think about others watching her again? He removes his fingers and caresses her back. If she’s worried about being seen feeling her feelings, why not lock herself up in her room?

Gilbert congratulates himself for coming up with the best ideas.

Fine, Emma will admit that she has been feeling possessive over him. She didn’t want to direct her selfish feelings to him, but she had to acknowledge something else. She’s the finance of a villain, and to love him, she must be an evil woman. So, instead of resisting, she will accept these selfish feelings of hers and show everyone how much she loves him.

Well then, it sounds like Gilbert’s solution of locking herself away or erasing everyone in the castle won’t work out. It’s only when she can bring herself to show off how she feels in front of others that she can become as evil as Gilbert.

Gilbert laughs, it looks like the face Emma is currently making isn’t something he’s willing to let anyone else see.

Emma feels Gilbert’s hands on her as the sensations drown out her thoughts and she loses track of what is good and what is evil.

The next morning, Gilbert is already gone by the time Emma wakes up. She easily changes into the black dress Gilbert made for her and ignores the small pains as she leaves the room.

Only to find Gilbert waiting for her just outside her door. He extends his wrist and asks her to medically check his pulse. Emma gives him a look before accepting his hand and touching his wrist.

Ooh, is it medically necessary to touch his hand so lovingly?

Well, yes it is.

Gilbert smoothly withdraws his hand and pulls something out from under his cloak. He holds up a black scarf, a present for becoming so evil. He drapes it over her shoulders, explaining that now she doesn’t have to worry about being seen.

Gilbert drops a kiss on Emma’s head, assuring her that it was just a medical procedure. Recent studies in mental health suggest that acts contributing to one’s emotional stability count as medical procedures.

Okay, and knowing Gilbert, that means that anything and everything is fair game.

So what if it is? Besides, this gives Emma the excuse she wants to show everyone that she loves Gilbert the most without being seen.

. . . what?

Suddenly suspicious, Emma lifts up the edge of the scarf and looks at herself, for the first time in forever. She looks at the bite marks that the dress doesn’t cover.

Ohh.

Emma thinks back to all the gazes on her and realizes that she had misread them. They weren’t judging her for clinging on to Gilbert. They were feeling pity for her after seeing all the bite marks he left behind.

And Gilbert knew the whole time.

(hehe)

[arkangelo-7]

Okay, but, Dick and perching.

So, Dick perches. Like, on anything—chairs, tables, cars, bookshelves, you name it. Anything that can give him high ground, no matter how minimal it may be, he’ll find his way onto it. He’s always felt comfortable with his feet off the floor, he’s a Flying Grayson, but over the years going up has just become instinctual. He’s conditioned himself to equate height with safety, and in a place like Gotham, like Blüdhaven, safety (or, at least the feeling of safety) is something he needs.

It started back when he was Robin. Bruce used to pick him up and set him on top of things (trash cans, fire escapes, etc.) to keep him out of line of fire, to keep him hidden, or to provide him a safe place to watch while Bruce worked a criminal.

Eventually, this translated outside of the field and into everyday life; B would set Dick on the armrest of his office chair, or the hood of the Batmobile, or the kitchen counter, so that his squirmy little eight-year-old would be forced to divide his attention between keeping balance and paying attention to B.

B claims this was all just a part of his training (like learning how to master his spatial awareness, learn stability, keep his center of balance, things like that) but Dick knows now that, in reality, it was actually a tactic to keep him focused and stop him from moving around too much when Bruce needed him to be still.

But irregardless, it’s become who he is—he perches. B might have unwittingly trained it into him, but it’s Dick who needs it. Needs to be up. Needs to be safe. Needs to feel like he’s in the air, because despite everything, in some subconscious way he knows that it’s as close to his parents as he’s going to get.

So, yeah. Dick perches.

[dilfsfordinner]

a/n- this is so sad to think about

summary- megumi is curious about his “mom’s” current situation… ft husband!gojo x pregnant reader

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“Why are you so big?”

A choked cough caught in your throat at the little boy’s comment, his big, bug-like eyes scanning your belly as you fought to hold in a laugh, arm wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer, his little form curled into your side on the couch.

“Your little brother is the reason, I’m afraid,” your voice was soft as you eyed him, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before his fingers latched onto your swollen belly, tiny digits pulling at the fabric of your top to reveal the skin underneath, your stomach now completely bare before him.

Megumi looked as if your reply was the most confusing thing to ever cross his mind, his nose scrunching as he pondered the meaning of your words before his eyes locked on yours again. “But I thought babies came from birds?”

An amused sigh left your lips as you wondered who had told him such a thing, a certain white-haired man coming to mind as if in answer. “Megs, don’t listen to what that idiot has to say,” you hummed, your palm cupping his cheek before brushing his dark locks out of his face.

“And who is this idiot, I wonder?” a familiar voice spoke in your ear, a surprised yelp coming from you at Gojo’s sudden presence. Your surprise quickly turned to anger, however, as you felt a restless kick delivered to your lower abdomen, your hand flying out to slap your husband against the chest, a gasp coming from his lips in faux hurt.

“You’ll scare the baby, Satoru,” came your muttered reply, his legs quickly maneuvering over the back of the couch to land next to you, long arm shooting out to pull you and Megumi into a smushed, side hug. “I love you too,” he smiled as he left a kiss to your cheek, one hand snaking around your torso to cradle your bare belly, the other ruffling the boy’s hair while he was distracted.

“You’re the idiot!” Megumi blurted, fingers slapping Gojo’s hand away as you scoffed, a facetious ‘thanks megs’ slipping from your lips before Gojo hummed gratefully for the boy’s insight. “And why am I the subject of your bullying?” he purred into your ear, your eyes turning to look at him far more eagerly than he anticipated.

“Megumi was wondering where kids come from. You should tell him, Toru,” you said sweetly, a grin starting to pull at your lips as his own fell from his face, the tips of his ears turning red as well as a light blush creeping up his neck. You watched as he looked at the waiting Megumi, his innocent eyes staring into Gojo’s own, waiting for his answer.

A gulp came from your husband, his long fingers rubbing your belly as if for reassurance before he confidently said, “It’s just as I said, Megs, a white bird came into our room at night and gave her your soon-to-be brother. That’s all there is to it.”

Megumi maybe thought his answer to be true, or maybe he didn’t, he didn’t seem to care though, a smile pulling at his cheeks as he watched you struggle to hit Gojo over the head, frustrated huffs coming from you as Satoru himself just grinned, your shared voices eventually twining into comfortable conversation as the little boy snuggled up to your stomach, the soft words the two of you shared pushing him closer and closer to drowsiness, and ultimately, the hands of his afternoon nap.

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[imfinereallyy]

hummingbirds

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡

[aemondluvbot]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜 — 𝖎𝖎

✧ ⸺ aemond x reader︱part one

𝔞. 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: this might make sense on its own, but i do think you should read part one for added context

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: fingering while on dragonback (poor vhagar, this is the targaryen version of joining the mile-high club i think), fluff apart from that

“she won’t hurt you as long as you’re with me,” aemond reassures you for what might just be the millionth time. still, with every step you take, you wring your hands together and pray to the seven gods for whatever’s to come. 

in the stillness of the night, your senses feel heightened. every footstep, every distant laugh and squeal and animal sounds ring loudly enough in your ears that they might as well be made right next to it. you clutch your cloak tighter, looking to aemond who does the same. 

“my prince…”

“hush, little sparrow,” he breathes. it’s a soft whisper, mostly so he won’t attract any attention, and yet your body obeys like it’s a command. “do you not trust your prince?”

“i-i do, but…”

“and do you not trust his dragon?”

well, that’s certainly debatable. how do you know you won’t instantly be burnt to a crisp the moment vhagar gets the tiniest whiff of you? how do you know you’re not marching to become her next meal?

“you don’t,” aemond says like it’s a firm statement. and perhaps it is. she is ancient and powerful and a god. you are just a servant girl in the red keep. 

“do you not trust your prince’s ability to command his dragon then?” aemond’s voice is low, careful. your body reacts to it instantly as a warning shiver passes down your spine. you must tread carefully. 

“i do, my prince.” 

“then there’s no need for you to worry, is it?”

there are a thousand different things to worry about, you think to yourself—sneaking outside the keep in the darkest hours of the night, sneaking outside with a prince, riding a targaryen dragon, sleeping with the prince… more times than one…

“i suppose not,” you answer just as quietly.

“i haven’t been outside the city gates all that often,” you confess a bit more freely once you step outside the gates. “it’s…different.”

“is it?” aemond’s voice holds the same curiosity it always does whenever he’s asked you a question about yourself—never condescension or a patronising tone, always a genuine desire to know the answer.

“the air smells better,” you laugh. 

aemond hums, smiling at you as you continue to make your way to his dragon. you know it’s not far now, vhagar usually sleeps right outside the gates so the prince can ride to her whenever necessary. 

and now as you hear stirring and great big breaths echoing in the distance, your heart picks up again, thudding wildly in your chest the closer you walk. there’s anticipation thick in the air—thick and cloying and suffocating, and you wonder if it would be wise to just turn around and make a run for it. 

but then aemond stops just a few steps ahead of you and turns around to extend his hand. 

“are you ready, little sparrow?”

the no is right there on the tip of your tongue. no i’m not, i will never be, lets just go back to your bed. i’ll keep you warm. that’s what you wish you were saying, instead you give him a shaky little nod and watch the prince’s face split into a gorgeous smile. 

“ynot!” aemond’s voice rings out in the crisp, quiet night. 

the beast stirs. 

if it weren’t for the prince holding your hand, you would have dropped to your knees right then, you would have dropped to your knees and curled into a ball praying for swift death. one look at her, and you know there’s not running away from her. 

there’s only aemond who stands there like a shield between you while you cower behind him as vhagar stands to her full height. 

you have seen her in the skies before, patrolling the areas around the red keep and king’s landing, flying like a giant bird in the vast skies. but up close she is bigger than you could have ever imagined. 

she’s big and beautiful and beastly. involuntarily you whimper. 

“they sense fear, little sparrow,” there’s a teasing note to his voice as you press yourself into his back, peeping at her from behind him. 

“well, i am afraid,” you snap, not even bothering to apologise and grovel for taking that tone with him. aemond seems anything but offended, though. he seems rather amused.

“do you wish to touch her, little sparrow?”

no. no no no. absolutely not. no! but aemond seems so eager and despite the fear coursing through your veins you can’t find it in yourself to deny him this small pleasure. 

“um…”

“come,” he leads you by the hand. closer and closer and closer until she moves again and you yelp, practically jumping onto him and burying your face in his chest. aemond’s sharp laugh rings in your ears. this is beyond embarrassing that a simple movement of her head should have you shaking like a leaf. 

but aemond’s arms around you feel nice and reassuring. so much so that you hold onto him a little tighter. 

“lykirī, vhagar,” the prince murmurs. you don’t know what the words mean, all you know is that hearing him speak in high valyrian has a few butterflies fluttering in your stomach, clearing away some of the dread. 

“lykirī…” he breathes softly, approaching her with you still clinging to him, a little bit less now that she’s still again, looking at you with her giant yellow eye.

up close you can see just how leathery and thick her skin looks, battle worn over centuries and tougher than even diamonds perhaps. aemond raises your hand that he’s been holding, and before you have the chance to beg him not to, places it on her neck. 

your heart stops beating entirely. 

vhagar’s nostrils flare like she’s sniffing you. sizing you up more like… perhaps she’s wondering if you’d even be worth one bite to her. her hide is the strangest thing you have ever touched, unlike any other sensation you have ever felt in your entire life. 

“what did you say to her?” you ask in a hushed voice. aemond stands behind you, his body pressed against yours, his hand atop yours as you stroke the dragon with shaky, hesitant movements. 

“i told her to be calm.”

“you told her to be calm?” you laugh, “what’s she got to be scared of? me?!”

“would you rather she startled?” aemond teases and that shuts you right up. 

the fear in you dissipates the more you stroke her. she’s calm after that, only huffing slightly every once in a while. slowly you even gather the courage to move a little closer to her. all the while aemond watches. you can feel his eye on you at all times, never once wavering, never once looking at anything else. 

“should we fly then, little sparrow?” aemond asks after a while. you freeze again. fly… on her… sure you’re no longer scared she might burn you to a crisp but to fly on her… 

but you’ve trusted aemond thus far, and he hasn’t let you get hurt. what’s a little more trust then.

“you need to let go of me, little sparrow,” aemond laughs, urging you to let go of the arm you’ve been clutching for dear life while sitting in front of him. 

the dragon’s still on the ground and you’re already so high up… what happens once she starts flying? 

“mm? oh, sorry,” you mumble, letting go and straightening just a little.

“i’m going to keep you safe,” he murmurs in your ear, raising goosebumps all over your body. 

his fingers trail up the side of your thigh, over the leathers he’d lent you for this specifically. it already feels odd enough to be in trousers but that’s nothing compared to the feel of a saddle beneath you. still, his touch soothes you a little, calms your racing heart. 

the night is still dark, with no moon in the sky. a million stars twinkle above you, and as much as it scares you, you can’t wait to touch the heavens just a little. see if you can pluck a star from the sky.

“vēzot!” aemond commands. beneath you, the beast flaps her wings. 

there’s a great rumble, a sound louder than any thunder you have ever heard. it’s her, you realise, it’s vhagar’s cry as she frees her wings and leaps into the air, up and up and up until you realise you’re half-screeching and half-laughing, hysterical and awed. this is…beyond anything you’ve ever experienced. 

wind rushes through your hair, making your eyes water at first. your hair will be a tangled mess after this, much worse than when the prince has his way with you, and yet you can’t care less as all of king’s landing lays right below you—building’s tiny as a grain of rice, lights burning below you just like the stars that twinkle above you. 

“aemond!” you grab his arm, screaming over the wind, “aemond look! the red keep, and that—” you point somewhere to its east, “that’s the sept, and oh! that’s…”

one by one you point to the buildings and the streets you’ve only ever roamed so far. the more you recognise them the more excitement floods in your veins. vhagar’s gliding over king’s landing now, gentle and soothing, only flapping her wings whenever necessary. 

“it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” somehow his voice still carries over the wind, over the blood rushing in your ears. it would… after all he speaks the words right in your ear, kissing the shell of it and flicking his tongue over it right after. 

“hold the reins for me, will you?” aemond asks, his voice hoarse, deep. 

“w-what?”

“hold the reins, little sparrow…”

it’s an order as he nudges your hands with his, urging you to take a hold of the leathers. you know you’re not really steering the dragon, not with your inability to speak any high valyrian or your lack of valyrian blood. still, it feels like the biggest responsibility in the world. bigger still when vhagar grumbles the moment you close your hands around the reins. 

but aemond’s there to pat the dragon. “rȳbās, vhagar,” he commands again and the dragon goes back to the way she was before, calm, gliding on the wind. 

“she listens to you…” you murmur in awe, more to yourself than to him. because of course it’s a stupid observation, she’s his dragon, of course she listens to him. and yet it’s awe inspiring to you that he can command the dragon the way he does. 

prince he may be, but he’s still a mortal man… it astonishes you that he commands so much power with just a few words. 

“you listen to me too, little sparrow,” aemond breathes softly, placing little kisses over the shell of your ear just like he had before. his hand, now free, rides up your thigh, over your stomach, while the other rests on your hip, holding you in place. 

“aemond was it? not…my prince?” 

your eyes widen when you realise. of course, in your excitement you’d forgotten all manners, addressing him by his name like he’d given you permission. 

“my apologies, my prince, i—”

“i like it, little sparrow.” he pushes his hand inside your trousers, shutting you up instantly. 

his fingers are cold from the night air, a shock to your system as soon as he touches your clit—cold, rough fingers, touching the softest, warmest parts of you. 

his fingers move, tracing circles and vague shapes until you’re a moaning, quivering mess, writhing just so you can feel a little more friction. it’s just the right pressure, the right pace as he works you up. your hand falls slack, only loosely gripping the reins now, back arching off his chest lightly as you moan as loudly as you want. 

there’s no one to hear you high in the skies above king’s landing. no one to catch you in the act. all your sounds belong to him and him alone. and you won’t deny your prince those simple little pleasures. 

this is nothing like you’ve felt before, nothing like how your own hands make you feel. this is like tiny bolts of lightning right under your skin as the wind rushes all around your body. 

“that–that feels so good…”

aemond hums behind you, keeping up with the pace he’s set. his fingers dip between your folds, teasing and inching towards your opening—keeping you on edge. the reins are bunched up between your fingers, back pressed to his chest. as he nips at your neck, right over your pulse point, using his other hand to play with your nipples; stimulating, sending jolts through your whole body. 

“always ready for me, aren’t you little sparrow?” he breathes, peppering kisses down your shoulder. his finger circles your entrance, rough and thicker than your own, better than you’re used to. 

it’s enough for you to cry out—whine really. because you want him, need to feel him. but he’s taking his own sweet time. 

“what was that for, huh? needy little thing,” he taunts, “what do you want?”

between the words and his gruff voice, all thoughts vanish out of your head for a second. he hasn’t even properly fucked you yet, and your head is already starting to feel like mush. 

“you, please,” you all but beg, “want your fingers in me, please my prince…”

“not afraid of vhagar anymore, are you?” his taunting tone gets you going more. 

this should scare you to death—to be at the mercy of a dragon so high up in the skies, and yet with aemond’s fingers buried between your legs and his hardness pressing into your ass, none of it matters. none of it except chasing that high he makes you feel every single time. 

you spread your legs wider. your hand reaches back, caressing the nape of his neck, scratching it in slow sensual circles. hearing him groan is enough to calm any residual nerves that remain. sure, the effect you have on him is minuscule compared to what he’s doing to you, but it’s a small victory regardless. 

aemond falters for a brief moment, head thrown back as you feel the spike in his heartbeat. it makes your own skip a beat. but he recovers quickly, teasing your folds a bit more, finger circling your entrance.

“my good girl,” he whispers, lips pressed to the shell of your ear. 

before you even have the time to react to that, he slides a finger in, just the tip first, teasing, before he pulling the finger out again and thrusting it in. it’s faster this time, rougher. your insides feel like liquid, melting further and further with each graze of his callouses, with each thrust.

you scream his name as loud as you can, louder every time his thumb presses into your clit, chanting it so thoroughly, reciting it like a prayer and chasing your high. 

it’s frankly a surprise that you still have the ability to speak because every single part of your body feels like it’s melting, blood zapping through your body, pushing your heart into overdrive.

this time when aemond thrusts in, it’s with two fingers. you cry out at the sudden stretch, the burn that accompanies it. he falters when you jolt forward.

“did i hurt you, little sparrow?”

hurt?!

“no, i—” it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, and to take the whiney edge off your voice. “that felt good… better than before. keep going, please, just—”

the prince doesn’t let you finish, pushing his fingers inside you again. the hilt of his palm crashes against your clit, rougher than before, and you body trembles from all of it. 

“perfect little sparrow,” his tongue flicks against your ear, “taking me so well.” 

his words add to the heady intoxication. your head spins, completely blanking out on anything else—the dizziness from your desire and the vertigo of being so high up, that… you think, is the most addicting feeling you have ever experienced. 

all that matters right now is aemond and his hands and his voice. his lips latch onto your neck, sucking on your sweet spot and peppering kisses, and this time the buzzing that fills your ears is nothing like before. 

now as your legs shake and spasm, you know you’re close. 

his fingers keep moving in and out, plunging into you, drawing out wet and obscene sounds until you feel them hooking inside you, without warning. when he parts his fingers inside you, stretching you more, it’s enough to push you over the edge. 

with a cry, you slump against him, gushing onto his hand, incapable of doing anything else as waves of pleasure crash onto you, blinding you almost.

for a second the world falls away, tilts on its axis, as you experience a mind numbing orgasm on the back of a dragon you were terrified of mere hours ago. 

“aem…” you falter, gasping as he continues to slide his fingers in and out, letting you ride out your orgasm. 

“shall we go back to the keep, little sparrow?” he whispers a moment later, “continue this without traumatising poor vhagar.”

you laugh, it’s a throaty chuckle more than anything. aemond’s fingers are still buried deep inside you, making you clench around him. 

in apology you stroke the dragon. “she’s a good girl.”

“oh, is she?” aemond asks, and you can already imagine his arched brow as he stares at you with a little smirk, his eye glinting in the darkness. 

“lets go back to the keep, my prince,” you nod, “the things i want you to do to me are better suited for a bed anyway…”

[brittle-doughie]

Anticipated Arrival (Golden Cheese Cookie)

Previous part with Dark Cacao Cookie!

You turned off the faucet as you wiped your face with water, but only with so little as not to soften up your dough. You take a deep breath as you look up at the mirror.

You weren’t looking alright. Tired eyes, a bit of sweat here and there as if it was always a little heated whether you go, and the constant..visions that you see out of the corner of your eyes.

A cookie of blue that lets out little laughs that make you turn your head at nothing and silhouettes of a cookie of white within the shadows, doing nothing but…stare, speaking only briefly…

“Ehehe…”

“Set yourself free, cookie…”

“It’s only a matter of time…”

“Let yourself go..and return to Beast-Yeast..”

You shake your head at those voices in your head. You can’t, you didn’t want to. Things have only gotten worse ever since your first visit to that place….as you glance at your forehead and your wrists…

A faint eye on your forehead and specks of flour on your wrists….these things only you can see, invisible to others…always there no matter how hard you tried to remove them…

A knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Excuse me, your Majesty. A little bird has come with a message, it says that it was of a urgent matter. Do I say that you are unavailable at the moment?”

A little bird? Oh dear, was it one of the Blueberry Birds?

“No, I’ll be there right away, Blackberry Cookie. Just..gimme a second.”

“Of course, your Majesty.”

———————————————————————

It wasn’t a blueberry bird.

A cheesebird was waiting for you in the throne room, a letter in its beak. Cheesebirds were only native to the Golden Cheese Kingdom, so it could only mean that Golden Cheese Cookie had sent this bird to you.

“Chirp, Y/N Cookie! Your Majesty!”

“You’ve flown quite far to hand me this letter, what is going on at the Golden Cheese Kingdom?”

“Golden Cheez Cookie has asked for your support! She needz help with moving thingz to her Secret Vault! Chirp!”

“This letter seems to be accurate. Is that all there is to it? Just helping her move things to a hidden spot? Nothing…too dire I’m going to guess?”

“Terrible thingz she sayz might happen! She needz your help just in case! Chirp!”

“If that’s all, then I’d be glad to help her. I just need a moment to catch my bearings…”

A part of you wanted to stay, this was too coincidental during the recent rise of the Beast Cookies to be unrelated…you had no intention to go back to that horrid place…

But you can’t just turn away Golden Cheese Cookie if it really was something as simple as that, not after what had befallen her and her kingdom…

You steeled yourself and went to gather your things….

———————————————————————

“Your Majesty, Y/N Cookie has arrived!”

“Have they? Bring them here!”’

You walked in to the main entrance to the pyramid, the cheesebird on your finger. You tell it to fly away now as you turn your attention to Golden Cheese Cookie.

“Golden Cheese Cookie, I’ve gotten your message. What seems to be the pro-oh my goodness!”

“Oh, it’s good to see you again, Y/N Cookie! It’s been a while since you were here, but it’s felt like forever!”

“Oh!”

You barely finished your question before Golden Cheese Cookie rushed at you and held you closely, wings around you two like a makeshift barrier from the outside world. You were kind of expecting that and immediately reciprocated the hug.

“Ehehe, yep! It’s been quite some time, Golden Cheese Cookie. It’s good to see you again too.”

“It’s perfect timing, I’ll need your help to move the last of the soulcheese to the Secret Vault I have prepared!”

“You said it was because grave danger might come to the kingdom. What exactly is this danger? Is it Dark Enchantress Cookie?”

“Not just her, but the Beast Cookies that Pure Vanilla Cookie has told me in his letter.”

Beast Cookies…

You already felt a little lightheaded, you leaned on a pillar for a minute. Golden Cheese Cookie was quick to tend to you.

“Y/N Cookie, are you alright?! You lose your balance there!”

“I-I’m fine. Just a little desert heat making me feel hot, I need to stand in the shade for a bit.”

“Very well, but we must make haste. There’s no telling when and where these Beast Cookies might make their attack!”

“Y/N Cookie…? Y/N Cookie, you’re looking off! Y/N Cookie!”

———————————————————————

You felt like you were back in that cocoon…

Couldn’t move…

Only able to directly face…Mystic Flour Cookie…

“Why do you keep resisting the truth? That all of your efforts to stay away will only bring you closer to us…”

No, it couldn’t be…this had to be a dream…the shaking, the feeling of tiredness, sweating like mad…

Your wrists…the flour on them was very much visible…

“I promise that this is all very real. My marking makes sure that I can have this connection with you…”

“No! Get out of my head!”

“You are only delaying the inevitable, Y/N Cookie. It is completely futile to try and fight it…”

Her voice quiets to a sickening whisper…that smile on her face as it darkens…

“RETURN TO US, Y/N COOKIE.“

———————————————————————

“Y/N Cookie, are you there?!”

You gasped as you wake from your nightmare, standing up from the pillar, looking at your wrists to see the familiar faded marks of flour from Mystic Flour Cookie.

That only you saw….

Golden Cheese looked worried at you, holding you by the shoulders.

“Y-yeah, just..a little tired from last night, hehe. Just needed a little snooze is all..”

“Are you sure that’s all to it? You can tell me if something is troubling you.”

“Y-yeah! I’m good!”

“Please…just..promise me that if you ever feel wrong, you’ll tell me right away!”

“I will, I….promise. Now, what was it about some soulcheese you needed moving?”

“Oh! Yes, I need your help to move the last remaining soulcheese to the Secret Vault! Let us go!”

It pained you not to tell her…but she couldn’t know…

She can’t learn that you’ve been haunted ever since you first stepped on Beast-Yeast.

She’ll be fine if you didn’t tell her just yet.

Right…?

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: sexual tension, slight drinking, pining, jealousy, reader being childish, smacking, smut

wc: 16.3K

A/N: It's been a while, but it is here and it's steamy as fuck boys.

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

Taglist is closed

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CHAPTER 18

“I’m not going to forget you mom.”

Your mother was looking at you with tear filled eyes as you packed your last bag into the trunk of your car. Leaving your hometown was not part of your plan of the year at all. You figured you would be cradling your baby in your arms by now, having your husband at your side lending you a hand and messing up while changing diapers, laughing at both of your clumsiness even if you had prepared yourselves for it with books.

“It’s just, you’re moving far away from me. I won’t be able to visit you at all… Why don’t you reconsider–”

“I have to leave! I can’t stay here mom. It’s too–” You slammed the trunk shut as your hands went towards your eyes, covering them as a sob tried to rip out from your chest. You felt your mother’s arms wrap around you and pull you towards her chest. Her hand went to the back of your head as she made soft shushing noises to calm the turmoil of emotions that started to unravel inside of you.

“I know… I know baby girl. It’s painful…” Your tears started to wet the palms of your hands as you felt yourself lean on her shoulder. Her left hand went to your back to rub you in soothing circles, letting you cry one last time. This really was not in your plans at all. After a minute she pulled away from you and you lowered your hands to show her a pouty lip and tear stained cheeks. “I’m a phone call away, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” You sniffled as she took a deep breath in, a small smile appearing on her lips.

“But I repeat, don’t forget about me when you start dating.” You rolled your eyes with a sigh at that, shaking your head.

“I’m done with that. I don’t think I’ll date for a while.” Was your response, making your mother sigh with a smile.

“Whatever you say, my little dove.”

“Ngh…”

You whimpered as you started gaining consciousness, hearing the birds chirp, and– You felt like you were ran over by a fucking truck. Everything hurts. Every limb and joint hurts, even your jaw feels tense and hard to move, but there is still a sense of relief. Satisfaction.

Oh you were comfortable, like flying on clouds even if everything hurts. The pain was nothing compared to how accomplished you felt, or how satiated your body, even if spent, felt. You could lay here all day, on this soft mattress, with these sheets that were warm around you, with the fluffy pillow underneath your head, with the arm that was wrapped around your waist–

Hang on.

Your eyes snapped open and your first view of the day was Eddie Munson’s sleeping face.

He was laying on his side, facing you, while you were facing him. Your heart started beating rapidly as the memories of last night began flipping in your head like a scrapbook, and the more you remembered, the more flustered you got. 

You cannot even recognize who you were last night. You were completely feral, animalistic, not caring about anyone or anything but Eddie and the pleasure that he could bring you. Pleasure that you haven’t felt in a while, or maybe ever. You remembered him rising you from the floor, eating you out like it was his sole purpose in life. How his cock filled you, and how good he was in fucking you disrespectfully.

Your embarrassment caught up with you as you remembered how you moaned his name, how you teared up from the pleasure, from how good he was making you feel and then how he talked dirty to you. Your face was in flames, and your belly turned with nervousness as the kisses started flashing in your mind. So many kisses and whispers–

“You take me so well Peach…” 

You cringed slightly, but not out of disgust or second hand embarrassment, but because it flustered you. It was making you feel things you didn’t want to feel right now, like butterflies for example. You wanted to shoot those bastards down, because Eddie was just a friend, and you two were only curious about one another, that’s all. 

You licked your lips as you started to wiggle out of his embrace, moving backwards on the bed towards the edge. He groaned in his slip as his arm flopped to the bed once you got out of his reach. You stared at him for a while as you inspected his sleeping figure. He looked so peaceful like this, pretty even. His lashes were perfect, his stubble was neatly done, his hair was untied and–

You have to stop. You can’t keep looking at him with intentions of staying. What makes you think he wants you here when he wakes up? It was just a quick fuck the remaining hatred out kind of thing, that’s all it was for crying outloud. You bit your bottom lip as you got out of the sheets and turned to finally sit on the edge and pull yourself off the bed and–

“SHIT–” Your legs gave up on you, making you fall back down on the bed, ass hitting the mattress, making it bounce and of course, Eddie was shaken awake.

“Wha– What–?” He was sleepy, his voice raspy and it made your body shiver with its tone. You panicked as you realized you were completely naked, top to bottom, growing way too self-conscious about your situation. You grabbed onto a very thin polar fleece black blanket that had pooled at both your feet, and you put it all over the front but your back was still bare to him.

Your breathing was quick as you felt the bed move, and you closed your eyes while your heart wanted to kill you at the moment from how fast it was beating, threatening to explode. What is gonna happen now? What is going to become of the two of you? Did you two just fuck up your entire friendship? Your relationship? You have to say something, you can’t be shocked all day, sooner or later you’ll have to face him and talk, better that be now.

You turned your head around to look at him, and your breath simply cut off at the sight of him. He sat on the bed, the sheet covering his bottom half, his entire chest on display, his hair down as he rubbed one of his eyes. Your gaze went downwards towards his happy trail that went below the sheet, covering the trail you still wanted to follow. You didn’t notice his eyes were already open and looking at you, and a lazy smirk displayed on his lips.

“Wow, don’t make yourself too obvious, Peach.” You snapped out of your thoughts, your eyes going back towards his face. Embarrassment took over you and you whipped your head around again, trying to calm your breathing. It was already pathetic to be like this when he was this calm in front of you.

But unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t in the slightest. He was good at hiding his emotions, afraid people could know or read him as easily as he could with others… just like he knows you are completely losing your shit right now. 

“Um… I, uh… I fell.” What the fuck are you saying? Stupidity, that’s what. You heard a rough chuckle from behind you and you didn’t know how his eyes were looking at your naked back. He wanted to reach out and rub his hand all over it, and he clenched his jaw as he felt his dick twitch underneath the sheet. He can only imagine looking down at your back as he rails into you and– he needs to stop.

“I could feel that. Too rough for you?” There was mocking behind his tone, which sparked a bit of anger inside you. You stood up from the bed, and his breath hitched when seeing your bare ass for just a second. He bit the inside of his cheek as you turned around and damn you looked so good right now. Your makeup was all smeared, your hair a mess, and his blanket draped over your front as you clung it close to your chest with both hands. You looked fucked, literally fucked.

“Oh? As far as I remember, someone got a bit pussy drunk yesterday.” He threw his head back with a loud laugh, seeing his adam’s apple bobbing up and down at the motion, making your legs tremble more than what they are now thanks to the soreness. Shit, you are not sure if you can do more than two steps without tumbling over.

“Excuse me? I’m pretty sure Gareth who lives three blocks away heard you moaning my name Peach.” Your face grew fifty times hotter, your cheeks burning entirely as he looked at you once again. You were gripping onto the blanket against you as if your life depended on it. Your belly was turning in nervousness as you looked for the following words.

“You moaned my name too, you aren’t all that innocent either!”

“I know I did. You think I’m ashamed of that? It was good.” His eyes were looking at you with an intensity you haven’t felt in a while, just like when Bil– You shook your head from that thought and cleared your throat.

“It was and– and uhm–” You didn’t know what you wanted. It was– He was the best you ever had, there was no lie in that. Better than those boys from school before Henry, better than Henry, better than your hookups and better than Billy… But– he was also part of the friend group. You two were in the same group of people and if something were to happen between the two of you– things like jealousy or one being mad at the other and then it’s just going to be back as it was a year ago.

You didn’t want to go back to that place. You didn’t want to lose Eddie again.

And Eddie noticed it as you looked down at the floor. The thoughts, the doubt, and he could not believe you were thinking about this. You two spent one of the greatest nights, and he knows you enjoyed as much as he did. He knows you’ve never experienced what you have with him, just as he experienced something completely new with you and his fists were clenching the sheets underneath him, feeling anger rising in his chest.

Your mind was trying to come up with the words but if you said you didn’t want to do this ever again, you would be lying. If you said you didn’t want to feel him again it would also be a lie. If you said you didn’t want to feel him inside of you, it would be a terrible horrible lie, the worst of them all because you never felt like that in your life.

But you wouldn’t lie if you said you are afraid of what this might do to your friendship if it were to keep going. What might do to all the improvement you two did the past six months. What might happen in between the entire group of friends you have if it were to all fall apart. What if they took sides? What if you two broke the entire group apart, even between eachother, because of some fun?

“I swear to god, Peach–” He began, already knowing you had come to a resolve. An answer that only angers him terribly knowing you felt as great as he did the night before. That you enjoyed doing to him the things you did just as much as he enjoyed eating you out like he never did before to any other woman in his life.

“We really shouldn’t…” You began, not daring to look at him. You wanted to stop talking, to jump on the bed and into his arms, kiss him again, fuck him, ride him like last night already even if you were sore all over, muscles in pain, but he just–

“Are you serious? After how we went at eachother last night? You’re telling me you don’t want to do this again?” His eyebrows were meeting in the middle, not even hiding the anger behind them. Your cheeks burnt once more as you cleared your throat, your eyes finding his again, your stomach flipping at the intensity of his gaze.

“I just– What happens if something goes… wrong? I mean–” You bit your bottom lip, looking for the right words as you looked at him. “-- I don’t want us to go back to where we were a year ago.”

He realized now with what you were conflicted about, and in all honesty, he never thought of it that way. He had thought of the consequences of fucking you and what could happen if you two fall apart because of it. With the two of you and with the group… But after last night, there is no way in fucking hell he cares for all of that now. 

“Why would something go wrong? What do you exactly mean by ‘wrong’?” He was still looking at your entire figure, and it was rendering you stupid again. Your breathing quickened at how much you felt him burn you with his gaze. Scanning you like a predator, waiting to pounce at any given opportunity.

“I–” It was embarrassing. What if he thought you had feelings for him? Like, romantic feelings. More than simple attraction… maybe– “-- What if one becomes possessive of the other? Like, it can happen. What if you see me with another person and you don’t like that? It would just–” 

And his fists clenched against the sheets as you mentioned that part. He knew where you were going with it, and he wasn’t very keen on the idea of sharing you, but it wasn’t unbearable. If sharing you was his only way of having you, then he would take it. He wondered though–

“And what about you seeing me with another woman?” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you looked at him with a dumbfounded face.

“Huh?”

“As far as I remember you were absolutely jealous last night.” You scoffed at his words, anger boiling as denial settled in your gut. You? What? Your arms left your chest in fury as you burnt all over.

“Jealous!? Me!? I wasn’t!” And you saw how his eyes traveled downwards, his head cocking to the side as he scanned you. You squinted at him, opening your mouth ready to cuss at him, wondering what the hell this man was looking at you, only to feel a breeze brush on your–

Your eyes widened as you snapped your head to look down and you gasped, yelping loudly as you bent down to grab the blanket again. You let it fall and he saw your naked body, in the full-on daylight that was coming through the curtains. Are you dumb!? Your hands grabbed onto the fabric and you stood up quickly, covering yourself only to look up to see a pair of eyes staring down at you.

And you didn’t know how fast he had been, because he was towering over you, standing.

He had quickly crawled to the edge of the bed and stood up before you the moment you picked up the blanket from the floor. Your eyes were wide, staring up at him with bewilderment in them, your heartbeat banging in your ears, threatening to pop your eardrum off. His eyes were hungry, his jaw was clenched, and– You didn’t dare to look down at him. You didn’t dare to look at the thing that had filled you to the brim the night before because if you did, you didn’t know what you would do.

“Then, what is your final answer Peach? We done here? One time thing, that’s it?” You didn’t know what you expected, but not this. He was asking if this was the last time, not really convincing you to say otherwise. Did you want to be convinced to let this continue? What were you expecting from him?

“I–” Your mouth went dry, not knowing what to respond, but your mind knew exactly what it needed to be said. This, even if your body craves it once more, you cannot allow it. He shouldn’t either. You had to tell him that it was done but your eyes drifted to his lips at the same time he did to yours. 

Will you be able to hold back from kissing him, knowing just how good it felt to do so? Will you be able to not look at him the way you have been doing for the past month? Will you be able to not think about how he fucked you speechless on those lonely nights of yours? You don’t know… You don’t want to know but–

“I’ll respect it. I’ll back off.” No. You don’t want him to back off. You don’t want him to stop, you don’t want to stop this, but you can’t let it happen. The group could be involved, the relationship you so craved of him would be destroyed if something were to happen. You closed your eyes as you swallowed harshly, to then look up at his eyes once more.

“It was just this one time… We were curious, and it’s– it’s done.”

You two stared one another down for a few seconds, and it was as if the both of you were expecting someone to break first. For one of you to grab the other’s face and kiss them stupid. You could feel his hot breath all over your face, even if he wasn’t that close. That’s just how hard he was breathing.

His jaw clenched once and then you saw him take a step away from you, turning and grabbing his boxers from the floor. You wanted to look. You really did but you couldn’t. You fucking couldn’t, so you turned your head the other way as you clutched the blanket to your chest. He put his boxers on and then stretched his back, looking at you once more.

“Well, then there’s that Peach. We’ll go back to how we were before all this… or well, try.” You were puzzled by those words, looking at him as you felt your heart clench in your chest.

“Try?” 

“Well yes. Give me a little bit of time to forget about your tits and pussy, hard to look at your face when I have that in my head.” He was so fucking bold for saying this, making your face just flare up, and you looked away for him not to notice. You swallowed a lump of, you don’t even know what, as you stared at his dresser to keep your mind occupied.

“I see.” You didn’t know what to say. He wants to forget about last night and that’s what you wanted right? So why does it hurt your fucking ego? Why does it make your heart clench? It shouldn’t.

“Right. Okay. Well, I’ll let you put your clothes back on and you can go home.” And you snapped your head to look at him only to see him walking out after grabbing his shirt and pants, closing the door behind him. Your mouth fell open in disbelief and you slowly sat down on the bed once again.

What was that? Why did he agree so easily? But you wanted that? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you feel like this? Why do you feel like you lost? Like you are making the wrong decision? It was just sex for fuck sake! There’s probably someone out there with Eddie’s same– same damn cock size! And– someone who can fuck you the way he did… someone who ate you out the way he did–

“Asshole.” You muttered through your teeth, not noticing you were showing them towards the door, a glare in your eyes. Fine, he wants to forget that night. He wants to forget you and your body. Perfectly fine, you’ll do the same. You’ll do the exact same, because this is how it should be. You made the right decision.

You did.

You’re enraged.

He really did not talk to you for the whole fucking week. You were basically back to how you two were a year ago, and you were hating it. You've gotten so used to talking to him everyday, sending funny memes to eachother, and just having fun, and now, it’s nonexistent.

But you sort of understood now what he meant about trying to forget… that. You understood because you can hardly stop thinking about it. You can hardly stop doubting yourself if your decision was the right one, debating the pros and cons about the situation. Of course the cons always won, it had to do with your friendship with him and the group, while the pros were… the pro was you could fuck him whenever you wanted.

You wanted to message him many times, but your dignity always won over as well as your respect for him to move away from you a bit to gather his thoughts once again. But fuck, you tried masturbating last night with the dildo you owned and– it just doesn’t satisfy you the way his cock did. You were enraged because Eddie Munson had ruined you for everyone else, or at least until you found someone that matches him in size and performance.

Robin doesn’t know and she will never know, and you hoped Eddie didn’t tell Steve. That was the last conversation you two had when you left his house, to keep this a secret. You couldn’t even accept his offer of him driving you home, preferring to just order a car to take you. You were awkward and nervous and you probably looked completely stupid, but can you be blamed?

You fucked your friend! You fucked someone you never thought you would fuck in your entire life! And you liked it– No, loved it and you wanted to do it again and again and again, but it just cannot be. You were also mad at yourself for wanting to do this again, despite knowing it was wrong. You hated that your body was already craving him desperately, wanting to feel him against you again, kiss you, fill you up and just turn you into a mess.

You wondered if Robin would kill you for it. She would probably be surprised and ask for details. You really need to stop thinking of him because tonight would be the first night you see him after literally riding him into oblivion and you have to pretend nothing ever happened between the two of you so your friends wouldn’t suspect anything at all.

How the fuck were you supposed to act normal?

Your doorbell rang and you looked at yourself in your full sized mirror again. A black simple strap dress with a black leather jacket on top. Hair done, makeup done, and some low heels. It was good enough and the air was starting to become warmer so, you were absolutely fine with a dress. 

You took a deep breath in and walked towards the door, opening it to reveal Steve, Robin and Jonathan holding their drinks up. You smiled, feeling the nerves invade your belly knowing he could come at any minute. The group decided to go out this saturday for Argyle’s birthday. He didn’t want to celebrate his birthday but you all invited Eden this time so he gratefully said yes. 

He decided on the club all of you were gonna go, and you could already guess it was going to be something different from the usual. Your eyes followed Steve as he entered the house with his boyfriend and roommate and you bit your bottom lip as your heart hammered in your chest. What if Eddie did tell him? Would he tell everyone?

You closed the door and you waited but no questions were asked and you didn’t notice Steve looking at you differently in any way. Same with Jonathan and thankfully Robin as well. He didn’t talk, which was good. 

“So…” Robin began and your blood went cold. Jonathan and Steve smirked at one another and– fuck, did they know? Did Eddie talk? You’re gonna kill him, you’re gonna fucking murder him. “You were glowing this week at work.”

“Huh?” You asked, trying to act innocent, trying to act like your blood didn’t just run cold in your veins just now.

“Robin told me you looked refreshed. What happened when we left Eddie’s house, hmm?” Steve asked and you felt like your breathing was cutting off. You had to lie, you had to make up a lie, anything.

“Nothing happened?” You busied yourself as you all stood in the kitchen, opening up the six packs of beer and putting them inside your fridge. Jonathan leaned on the wall next to it, arms crossed as he looked at you.

“Oh, something did happen.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Lie, you have to lie.

“Okay, fine… Something– happened.” You mumbled and you heard Robin gasp, and you turned around to see Robin covering her mouth and then Steve’s eyes were about to bulge out of its sockets.

“With Eddie?” His voice seemed strained, almost angry through the shock. You winced and frowned, shaking your head.

“What? No! He hooked me up with– with his friend Jeff!” 

Silence in the room. You gulped slowly as you looked at them, and then locked eyes with Robin. She was tilting her head in complete confusion as she stared at you. Her gaze fell on Steve who looked back at her and then you saw him sigh in relief.

Your shoulders fell down as you realized that it was indeed the right decision not to continue being friends with benefits with Eddie. By the looks of your friends, and especially Steve, you could see the fear behind the eyes. There was no happiness about it, or overall excitement for the two of you, just plain worry. Yeah, it was the better choice after all.

“You never told me you liked Jeff?” Robin looked at you once again and you shrugged, opening a beer for yourself.

“He looked nice that night and when you guys left he picked me up from Eddie’s and we went to a motel because he lives with Gareth.” You hoped they were buying your story because you would die if they didn’t.

“And?” Jonathan asked, holding onto your shoulder with a smirk on his face and you cleared your throat, took a sip of your beer and opened your mouth only for the doorbell to ring again and your heart stopped.

“I’ll get it! I want details so don’t start without me!” Robin yelled as she walked out of the kitchen and your blood drained your face. No, you cannot be this unlucky. You gulped as you took a bigger sip of your can and Steve was next to you, and if you squinted you could almost see a tail wag behind him.

“You never said anything! Like if it were someone random I don’t care, but Jeff? We know Jeff!” You rolled your eyes at him as you shook your head, feeling the nerves in your belly grow tenfold as you heard the door opening. You had to get out of this situation and fast.

“I would prefer to keep it to myself, I mean, like you said, it is someone you guys know–” And Jonathan rolled his eyes at you grabbing the rum and coke to start preparing his drink on your kitchen island.

“Oh please, just tell us if he was good and all that stuff.” You should have mentioned someone random from the party, someone they didn’t know. That’s why they’re fucking curious about it and you dug your own hole. You wanted to run away and not deal with this but then Robin marched back in with a smile to her face, Nancy holding her hand, Argyle, Eden and–

Fuck. He put his hair in a half ponytail just like you did that one time for him.

He was wearing a black button up linen shirt, open buttons at the top revealing his thin silver necklace. He was also wearing some worn out black colored pants, or jeans, you didn’t know, but fuck he looked good. Warm weather Eddie was going to fuck you over wasn’t he?

“Okay, continue!” Robin yelled as she sat on one of the stools, elbows on the counter and her chin on her hands with a smile on her face. Eddie’s eyes found yours and– shivers went down your spine as a flash of that night came to your mind. Him on top of you, moaning, thrusting in and out of you and you–

“Continue what?” Nancy snapped you out of your thoughts, making you look at her. Everyone was now waiting for you to continue and when you stuttered, not daring to look at Eddie, Jonathan talked for you.

“Robin said that since Eddie’s party, she–” and he made a nod at you making you wince”--has been in a special mood at work and now we found out why.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and Nancy gasped, covering her mouth and her head snapped towards Eddie. His eyes were wide as he looked at you, a look that only asked one thing of you. ‘Did you tell them?’

Your mouth opened and closed as you looked at him and Argyle was looking in between the two of you while elbowing Eden to the side. You wanted to talk but Eddie was looking at you with anger or with confusion, you couldn’t really tell, but maybe it was both. You stuttered a bit but Steve was the one who interrupted this time, and you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

“She just told us Jeff came to pick her up that night after we left.” He chuckled and looked at you while your eyes snapped to the wall on your side, not wanting to look at Eddie anymore. Your whole body and face was on fire as you wondered what his reaction was right now.

“Jeff…” By the sound of his voice he was starting to connect the dots together, and a dry chuckle escaped him, making you frown and turn your head to look back at him. “Yeah. Didn’t know he was that good, Peach. Special mood?” 

He was acting cocky now. A defiant look in his eyes and it reminded you of the Eddie of a year ago. Same look, same hateful gaze, arrogant, infuriating, making you want to walk over to him and strangle him until he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

But it was still enough to send shivers down your spine, making you move a bit in your place.

“It wasn’t that good.” Was your short reply, biting the inside of your left cheek and you just now noticed that she had been preparing drinks for everyone.

“Really?” Robin asked while looking at you as she took a sip of her drink. Your mouth opened to answer only for the motherfucker to interrupt you once again, while walking towards you, his hand reaching next to you to open the fridge and take a beer out.

“Hmm, is that why Jeff agreed that it was a one time thing? Maybe the one that wasn’t good…” and he looked at you, glares being exchanged, your heart beating into your chest as you looked at him and you saw his nostrils flare slightly as he continued, “-- was you, little Peach.” 

He slammed the door closed and you hissed at him, the sound startling you, but your anger was rising up, not being able to stop it as you fully faced him. Who does he think he is? Why does he feel that fucking entitled to treat you like this again?

“Slam my fridge one more fucking time Munson.” He cocked his head at you and Steve’s smile fell, immediately stepping in between you two, making you take a step back as well as Eddie, your eyes never leaving his, as he glared down at you.

“Okay, let’s not get too personal here…” Your breathing was deep, face burning with anger now, not knowing how to feel about this whole situation. Why was he acting so badly? He was the one who didn’t want to speak to you for a whole week, and he comes to your house and acts like a child?

“I was just protecting my friend Harrington. That’s all.” Eddie responded and took a sip of his beer before turning away from you. Your heart clenched at that, not really knowing why. You wanted to do something but you were not quite sure what. Just do something to him. But what?

You sighed as you looked at Robin who was looking back and forth to you and Eddie, while the other gave you one last look before turning to go to the living room, or to your balcony. You know Robin is worried, and you are too. Your heart clenched once more, feeling a pang of anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

All you wanted was to avoid this treatment. You wanted to avoid going back to the old ways Eddie and you treated eachother, yet you are still back into it. It was wrong to sleep with him. It was so wrong because now your friendship might be over thanks to ego, to pride, and you felt like crying. 

God, you knew he had become a close friend, almost a best friend you could say, and now realizing you fucked it all up for one night just made you want to hit yourself in the face. You wondered if he had the same thoughts or worries in his head. If he also didn’t like this situation at all.

But even with all these feelings, as you walked out with everyone else from the kitchen, and you looked towards the balcony, you couldn’t help but look at his broad back as smoke left his mouth while looking at his phone–

Wait, why is he looking at his phone? Is he– Nope, you are not doing this. You are not. You are going to pretend the knot in your stomach is not there, because, why the fuck would you care if Eddie was talking to someone? He can! He is free to do so, and maybe one of his hookups will be at the club you were all gonna go and he was just securing a fucking pussy. Yes, and he has all the right.

Yet, you couldn’t help but rush towards your table to grab your cellphone and turn away so no one could peek at your phone. You opened Instagram and saw Eddie had posted a story, right before he arrived. Your heart beat wildly in your chest and your finger clicked on his picture, only for the story to pop up and–

You let out a sigh of relief, very quietly, as you saw it was a goofy picture of him, Nancy, Argyle, and Eden in the mirror of your elevator. Wait, why are you relieved? If he wanted to post a shirtless picture on the mirror he could. It would probably score him some girl tonight for him to fuck, and he has all the right to do so because he wanted to forget about your body. And, did he say you weren’t good?

He fucking did. Anger bubbled up in your chest and you turned to see him in the balcony still, and you saw everyone else minding their own business, so you walked towards the sliding doors and stepped out, closing them behind you. Eddie looked over his shoulder and a dry huff escaped him before putting the cigarette on his lips again and taking a big puff.

“So, Jeff, huh.” He mumbled as he let the smoke out and your eyebrow twitched as you walked closer, standing next to him.

“You wanted me to tell the truth? I didn’t know Robin had been talking behind my back about how I–” Oh you chose your words wrong. A smirk broke on his lips, turning to face you with a piercing gaze, making you straighten up in your place.

“How you…? How you were glowing the whole week as Steve said? Or probably how satisfied you looked after riding my dick?” You gasped at how straightforward he was being. Didn’t he need the space to forget any kind of thoughts regarding that night? Thoughts about you? You cleared your throat and looked away, into the horizon, avoiding his eyes completely.

“Don’t give yourself so much credit. I bet you were also in a fucking great mood this week, let’s not forget how ‘I took you so well.’” You heard a groan from him and you turned your head to look at him with a frown and he was looking at you with those sharp eyes, jaw clenched and his free hand clenching onto the rail of the balcony.

“Now it is you who is giving herself way too much fucking credit.”

“I’m literally treating you the same way you are treating me. I didn’t know you would become a fucking asshole again after I said no!” You tried to keep your voice low, but high enough for him to know you were angry. He scoffed and shook his head, taking another puff of his cigarette before he continued talking.

“Don’t you fucking remember? I can read people like the back of my hand, and that is why I’m so goddamned angry at you.” Your mouth fell open as your body burnt from… anger? You didn’t know anymore. You just felt restless, and you felt like he could see right through you at the moment. Could he see how there is a part of you that regrets telling him no? That you want to kiss him again? That you want to feel him again? Can he see all of that?

“Stop with that bullshit Eddie. Did I crush your fucking ego? Is that the issue here?” You scoffed and you saw him clench his jaw as he straightened up, chuckling under his breath. There was tension between you, both are hunters ready to pounce, there’s no small and defenseless prey here. You’re both baring your teeth out at eachother to see who breaks first.

“You’re really up on that stupid high horse, aren’t you Peach?” His voice was rough, trying his best to probably sound cruel, but all you wanted was to pull him to your lips. You really need to fucking stop. “You started the insult, and I finished it.”

“I didn’t start shit! You made fun of my lie–”

“You know what, let’s just–” He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath to then exhale, looking down at you. “-- let’s just move on from this. You slept with Jeff last saturday, that’s the lie, let’s stick to it.”

“Yes, and he had a good time with me as well, even if he wants to fucking deny it just because I don’t want to do it again.” He was containing his own anger inside and you know it. He bit his bottom lip as he gave small nods while his nose flared up. He was pissed. Absolutely pissed. You were being a fucking hypocrite, and a liar.

“Believe what you want. In the end, you seem to be the one who looked refreshed this week.” You frowned at that, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, and you didn’t?”

“Nope. I actually wasn’t refreshed. Hopefully, I can change that tonight.” You frowned in confusion as you turned to look at how he put out his cigarette on the ashtray. What did he mean? You felt nervousness as he looked at you one more time. Without saying another word he opened the sliding door and stepped inside. You stood there, processing what had just happened, wondering what he truly meant. 

Was he going to try to make a move on you tonight? The tension is there, the bantering is there and you should be disgusted or afraid of him making a move but why do you feel… elated? You feel happy or giddy from knowing that he is angry yet he might come onto you again.

Should you put condoms in your bag? Maybe, it doesn’t really hurt, but– no, no. You are not fucking him again. This is final. The group reacted badly when they suspected it was Eddie, which he was, but then they sighed with relief when they ‘knew’ it wasn’t. You sighed yourself as you held onto the rail and looked out into the city.

This really wasn’t supposed to be like this, but you can’t deny you are attracted to Eddie. More than any hookup you had before. It’s like you tried him once and it was enough to make you addicted. Nobody made you feel that way… well… except–

No time to think about that. No time to think about anything. You have to go back to being friends with Eddie. You can’t be salty or angry at one another because this little adventure happened between the two of you. You don’t want to lose Eddie, and you were trying to avoid it, but in the end, it didn’t matter, because it feels like you are losing him either way.

So you took a deep breath in and walked back into the living room, not wanting to look Eddie’s way but it was like you were magnetized to him. You tried focusing on getting to know Eden, and she was really cool, very Argyle in all the good sense. She was the perfect match for him, and her alternative clothes were a contrast to Argyle’s vibrant ones. It was cute.

You were on your second beer now, minutes had passed, almost an hour, and you didn’t want to drink anymore. Eddie has not been interacting or looking your way, and you are restless for some reason. Didn’t he say– No, if he does try something the answer is no. 

Even when you two were left alone in the kitchen for a whole minute, you didn’t share any words as you cleaned up to finally go to the club. You kept glancing at him, but he pretended you were non existent. Your heart ached at how he was treating you because before anything happened he was your friend first, and now you also lost that.

You opened your mouth to talk to him, tell him you didn’t mean what you said, just something for him to finally talk to you the way he always did, but you were interrupted when Jonathan came into the kitchen.

“Welp, you guys ready?” He was sober, being the designated driver this time. Eddie only drank one beer and he stopped because he was going to take the people that came with him home as well. You nodded as you closed the trash bag and walked out the kitchen. 

“Is everything okay between you and Eddie?” Robin asked worriedly. You didn’t really know what to tell her. Everyone for sure noticed the cold shoulders between the both of you, or how you talked to one another before. They weren’t blind, nor deaf.

“Um we– It seems that my comment towards Jeff didn’t sit right with him. And then he insulted me back so–”

“But I saw you two talking outside?” She asked with a small slur on her tongue. You sighed and rubbed her shoulder.

“Yeah, I am not saying sorry and he isn’t either.” Robin rolled her eyes at the two of you, knowing how childish that sounded.

“So, is everyone ready to go celebrate the great Argyle’s birthday?” Steve said a little too loud and you smiled weakly at his state of drunkenness. You heard Eddie laugh at him and your stomach flipped at the sound. This stupid crush towards your friend should be gone by now. It should, you already killed that curiosity, you know how it feels, you know how he does, it should be done.

“Let’s go amigos! You’re gonna like this club!” Eden cheered at her boyfriend as you remembered your purse, walking to your room to get it. This was going to be an outing with friends, so you should act like it. You will try to do some innocent talk with Eddie, maybe things flow naturally between the two of you again if you try.

Maybe.

Or maybe fucking not.

He is avoiding you like the plague. Argyle brought you all to a club that plays Latin music mostly, so it was easy for all of you to just stand around a table, drinking as you talked, laughing when Argyle did a shot of Jagermeister and almost spit it out, but his girlfriend took it like a champ. 

Steve and Robin were drunk, as always. Jonathan was sober trying to fix Steve’s hair while the other tried kissing his boyfriend, and Nancy was giddy, just hugging Robin from behind, and then Eddie… Eddie and you were sober. He was across from you, when a week ago he probably preferred to stand next to you, knowing the two of you were the single people in the group. You both shared that in common, and now you are separated while the couples around you were all over eachother.

You wanted to go dance, to distract yourself from it all, but no one was making any moves to do so. You turned around to look into the dancefloor, and the women were dancing sensually, exotic even, and then, a dark haired girl walked in front of you, her dress glistening from the lights in the club. You were mesmerized by her, not even hiding the fact you were looking at her, but she noticed, looking back at you.

She was really beautiful, and then she winked at you while walking away. Oh… That should have gotten you to make a move. To go after her, but– Fuck, why don’t you feel like going after her? You sighed, turning around to take a small sip of your glass of water only to find a pair of eyes, digging into your skull.

He was glaring your way, and you wondered if it was his ego once more. You got flirted at and he hadn’t. That’s all it was. You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed your glass, turning back around to avoid looking at him again. You felt your heart accelerating as you tried to think of ways to not think about him at all.

But the more you pondered, the more you realized that you didn’t go after that girl because– Fuck, you can’t, you can’t want him! It’s wrong, it’s wrong, it’s wrong. The two beers you had probably were enough to make you this stupid. You had to go dance with someone, or get away from Eddie, but you didn’t have to. Eddie was heading to the dancefloor with Steve and Argyle, the two drunks. You only guessed he was going as a chaperone for them.

But what if someone–

You looked at Eden and smiled, nodding towards the dancefloor to join the boys. She smiled back at you, linked her arm around yours, and dragged you to the middle where the guys were. You just wanted to dance, that’s the whole reason you came to dance with them. Steve immediately grabbed you and twirled you around, making you giggle at how he almost stepped all over your feet.

“I don’t know how to dance any of this shit, but I sure as hell will try!” You heard him yell and you shook your head at him, only to then be pushed on your back, making you stumble over. You gasped and tried to grab onto anyone. A pair of arms wrapped around you before you tumbled to the floor, and your face was pressed to a chest, the leather like cologne filling your nostrils, making your heart thump faster.

“Watch the fuck out!” You heard Eddie yell over the music, and then you felt as if he shoved someone. You wanted to remain here, in his arms, and then– memories of that night started coming to your mind. You felt yourself burning all over, and particularly downwards. Fuck– 

“God, there was enough space for him to go through!” You heard Eden complain and then you were being pushed away, gently, the arms unwrapping from your body. You looked up to see those brown irises looking back at you, reminding you of that time where he supposedly hated you, yet still defended you from an asshole.

You don’t want this to be like that time, where he felt obligated to act heroic. He didn’t hate you now, did he? It’s just a rough patch in your relationship and you have to get over it. His hand squeezed your right shoulder and you felt shivers running down your entire spine.

“You alright?” His voice was loud but he wasn’t screaming. You gulped and nodded, feeling cold when the hand retracted. How long will it have to be for you to at least feel Eddie’s embrace again? A hug. Anything… but–

“Thanks…” You muttered under your breath. He gave a single nod, looking back at Argyle who was now trying to twerk to a song, and all you could do is stare at his side profile. 

Stop. Stop. Stop. You can’t fuck him again.

He said you were jealous, and you weren’t! You were curious only! You just wanted to know if he kept hookups as friends later on. Was that so bad? Was it bad to be curious about what a friend does in their life? In their relationships? No, it isn’t. You know everything about Robin, and you just wanted to have the same level of knowledge on Eddie.

You weren’t fucking jealous. You didn’t like him that way even, it was just attraction, so how could you be jealous over someone you just like physically?

“I’m off to get water.” You heard him talk, and you saw him walk away, and now you didn’t want to dance anymore. You bit your bottom lip as you stared at him until he got lost in the crowd. You wanted to follow him and talk to him, but you couldn’t. Maybe tomorrow, because right now it is for certain he doesn’t want to talk to you at all. 

“C’mon brochacha, dance with me! I’m the birthday boy!” You giggled at Argyle and he was right. You weren’t enjoying your friend’s birthday because of these stupid thoughts. Because of Eddie. You tried to calm your heart and dance with him, laughing when he tried to show you and Steve how to dance this music, and Steve just failed miserably.

You were laughing, songs passing and your worries started to leave your mind. Jonathan, Robin and Nancy joined after, but no sign of Eddie. It didn’t matter, because you were laughing as you were twirled around by Nancy. The music was not something the lot of you listened daily, but at least they were very well known songs.

Your bladder suddenly yelled at you for release. You have been holding it in for thirty minutes already, and you had to rush to the bathroom. You leaned over to Eden to yell to her over the music and into her ear so she could hear you.

“Where’s the bathroom!?”

“Next to the left side of the bar!” You nodded and gave her a thumbs up. You told everyone you were going to the bathroom and you started swimming through the sea of people. You avoided a few men that tried grabbing your hand in order to dance with you, rolling your eyes at the insistence. You finally stepped out of the dancefloor and saw the bathroom sign over the entrance of a hallway, but as you walked towards it, your head turned to the left only for your face to completely fall.

Eddie was leaning against the bar counter, smiling down at a girl. Both of them with drinks in their hands. Didn’t he say he was getting water? When did that change to alcohol? And how did he get to flirt with a girl this quickly? Your mouth was dry as you felt your belly turning, feeling your ego being crushed for some fucking reason. 

You turned and walked down the hallway, your knees feeling like jelly. You rushed to get inside the lady’s room and into a stall. You could hear all the girls talk but all you could think about was Eddie’s flirtatious smile towards this stranger. You should feel happy for him, like, good for him for getting some.

You relieved yourself, knees hurting from having to hold yourself up from not touching the toilet seat, and you walked to wash your hands, looking at your reflection as foam appeared on your palms. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and why– why are you thinking like this?

You feel sick. Maybe you are sick. You felt like you wanted to puke, your stomach was turning and your throat was closing up on you. Everything was spinning and you felt dizzy, and angry, and like your dignity was fucking squashed into the floor. At least he shouldn’t flirt with her in your face? You didn’t flirt with that girl before, and he is just–

What the fuck are you thinking? He is nothing to you and you are nothing to him, so why are you thinking like this? You really do feel sick don’t you? You need to go home, but everyone wants to stay most likely, so who on earth can take you home? Maybe just order a car?

Meanwhile, Eddie was outside, in the bar, having the most boring conversation there is with a girl that started talking to him out of nowhere. He was really going to get water, but maybe this was a good opportunity to try to go back to who he was before having a taste of you.

She wasn’t exactly his type, but she was very pretty. She just seemed the typical airhead who laughs at whatever he says for his attention, the hand trick on his arm, the lip biting. Nothing like you flirted with him. It was subtle and you didn’t even know you were doing it, thinking it was simple bantering.

That’s what it was at first, and now you two are back to how you were months ago. He didn’t want to treat you the way he did, but he was angry. He knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you, and he understood you. He really did understand your point of view, and why you were so afraid, but fuck did he want you again. He knows the woman in front of him won’t satisfy him, but if he isn’t going to be able to have you, then he should just refresh his contact list. 

“And then, we just like, drank a whole keg and it was insane.” Her voice was nasal, and her topic of conversation revolved around her solely. He faked a smirk, and he was already told that Argyle and Eden were heading to a motel after this. He didn’t need to know, but that leaves him with no passengers because he knows Nancy is leaving with Robin. So… he can easily take this girl back to his place.

He has to start trying to not think about your body because that’s all he did this past week. Seeing you tonight, in that dress, just made him want to grab you and take you to your room and just bend you over on all fours on your desk and rail into you, over and over again. Make you scream the way you did a week ago. But he can’t do that. 

So, taking this girl back to his place is. He opened his mouth to talk to her only to be interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head, frowning in surprise as he saw you standing next to him. You were nervous, and you were a bit shaky from what he could see. He felt his stomach do a stupid twirl, and he wondered if something happened to you.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt um– I– I feel sick…” Now he was confused. His head tilted to the side in question, an eyebrow rising as he looked at you. You felt sick?

“Um… Alright Peach, go tell Jonathan.” Eddie was trying to understand why you were interrupting him, but he didn’t have to wonder for long.

“You promised me you were my ride tonight… Plus they don’t seem like they want to go…” Oh. Oh you were a fucking bitch. He didn’t make such a promise and you knew it. You saw him flirting with someone else, and just like he predicted, you became jealous, to the point of interrupting him. 

“Right. You feel sick and you want to leave now, is that correct?” Your jaw clenched while looking up at him with those glossy eyes of yours. You slowly nodded at him and he had to gather his thoughts for a second, his heart thumping in his chest in excitement. He didn’t plan this at all, he really was going to respect your choice even if you were lying and he didn’t like it either.

“Aww, but I was having fun.” The girl in front of him pouted and fuck, he already forgot her name. The adrenaline of leaving with you overtaking him completely, excited to feel you around him again, hopeful to feel you cum around his cock and yell his name like seven days ago.

“I’m sorry baby, but I did promise her I was her ride for tonight.” He side-eyed you for a moment, and you were fiddling with your fingers while looking away. He wondered what you were thinking right now. 

“Can I at least have your instagram? Snapchat?” His eyes turned to look at the girl in front of him again, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Sorry, I don’t own social media.” And before she could ask for his number, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, turning you towards the entrance of the club, making sure you didn’t bump into anyone. He felt you tense up under his touch, or shiver, but it filled him with pride knowing he was making you feel this way just by touching your shoulder.

Once you two were out, he let go of your shoulders and he saw you looking back at the club, and then continued walking next to him. He didn’t see you drink, just at your home and those two beers. He knows you are not drunk, and you did whatever you did back there completely conscious. 

The car was not far away, and there were no words exchanged by the two of you. His heart was beating loudly, hearing his blood flowing, already feeling his belly burn with need. He couldn’t believe how primal he became when you were next to him now. You were a fucking drug. 

He opened the passenger’s seat for you and you looked at him as you slowly got inside, your eyes never breaking contact with one another’s. He felt his hands itching to touch you, knowing he is a few minutes away to actually get to touch you the way he did a week ago. He closed the door and while rounding the car, he messaged Argyle and Nancy to tell them he is taking you home because you were really sick.

He wondered if they were going to buy that lie. He honestly didn’t actually care, not when his stomach turned with adrenaline at the thought of eating you out again, or feel you cum around his cock, very tight at the base, bottoming out completely inside of you. He got into the driver’s seat and he saw you were texting, probably Jonathan since he was the sober one. 

But, he didn’t see excitement in your face. He could detect hints of doubt, of worry, embarrassment? He was about to talk when your phone started ringing, your eyes frowning in confusion and answering it.

“Hello?” You asked and motioned for him to start driving. He started the car and he got out of the parking space to start driving… to your house? His? “Robin, you are drunk– I’m– Yeah, I’m fine! Eddie is taking me home.” 

To your house it is, okay. He leaned over to talk over the phone so that Robin could hear him talk, knowing she won’t remember shit from this night.

“We’re gonna go have sex with eachother Robin!” He felt you push his shoulder, and he could hear how Robin went ‘That’s impossible!’ and he snorted as he kept his eyes on the road. You cursed under your breath as you got on the phone with Robin again.

“He– Of course he lied, god Robin– Yes, I do feel sick… Uh huh.” You closed your eyes, head thumping on the headrest of your seat as you kept listening to your friend. He fixed himself on his own because– for some reason, there was anger bubbling inside of him, and he was hoping his intuition was wrong. “Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.”

He saw you hang up and sigh, putting the phone into your purse again. Should he ask? Should he just drive to your place without a word? He was never in this position and now he is realizing just how different it is to fuck a stranger from a friend.

“So… sick huh.” He started and you gulped, staring out your window.

“Y-Yeah… I’m honestly feeling icky. Nauseous and stuff.” And he frowned, his gut already turning with a bad feeling, an awful taste in his mouth at your words. Were you serious? No, he definitely knows you are lying.

“Wait, you’re actually sick?” 

“Yeah, I was– in the bathroom trying not to puke before talking to you.” And– Oh he was pissed.

“You– Oh my fucking god!” His foot stepped on the gas, and his speed raised a bit more as he turned left, completely getting off the route to your house. You gasped as you held onto the handle above the window, and he knew you were a bit afraid, but he wanted to murder you right now.

“What the fuck Munson! Take me home!” You could see how the buildings started becoming smaller, then houses–

“No, you and I are going to have a fucking talk, Peach.” He gave you an unamused laugh as you saw the trees coming closer, your stomach turning wildly from nerves, of anger, of excitement? You are not sure anymore. You didn’t do anything wrong. You truly felt sick, you could feel it.

“We don’t have to talk about anything! I just need to get home to rest–” You hear him groan loudly at your response and he turns onto a dirt road, making the car swing around as he gets deeper into the trees around you. You knew there was some kind of countryside outside of the city, but not with trees. It looks more like an ecological park than anything.

Suddenly he comes to a stop, both of you jerking forward, stopped by your seatbelts. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest as you looked at him, wide-eyed. He turned off the headlights, leaving your surroundings in complete darkness, and the only thing illuminating the inside of his car was the small navigating screen in the middle.

“You are a fucking bitch, you know that?” His voice was low as he almost ripped the seatbelt off of him, running a hand over his face. He couldn’t really believe what you just did, and the fact you are denying it is bringing back all those old feelings he had for you again. How much he hated seeing you lie over and over again in front of Robin. Lying about who you were. But this time, this involves him, and you are lying into his face and even fucking his night over.

“Excuse me? What the hell is your problem!?” You were angry at him because he basically kidnapped you, taking you far away from the city and your friends, and all you wanted was to get home and curl up in your bed. Didn’t you?

“My problem? Oh, I don’t know, the fact I was about to score a fuck for tonight until you showed up and demanded me to take you home, LYING that I promised to be your drive back, when we both know I didn’t agree to shit!” He was looking at you, both of your chests going up and down with heavy breaths. You felt your belly dropping lower and lower, the consequences of your actions now coming clean in front of your face, but you won’t admit that to him.

“I– I had to do it because no one wanted to leave! That’s that!” 

“And your best option was to lie to me, when you knew I was actually busy? You’re full of fucking bullshit and you know I know it.” His eyes were like daggers into your skull, your soul, your heart. He could see you and he could feel your lies and your tricks. It’s not that you didn’t want him to be with someone else, you just felt sick at the moment, that’s all.

“I felt sick! I really did!” You squealed out, making him huff as he let out a fake chuckle, shaking his head.

“Yeah, sick because I was going to stick my dick in someone else’s cunt and not yours.” Your whole stomach, intestines, and lungs made a turn, knocking the air out of you in an instant. How dare he? How fucking dare he say that about you when it was nothing like that?

It wasn’t.

“I– The world doesn’t revolve around you Munson! Why would I care about something like that? The fuck you think you are? The best I’ve ever had or some shit?” You wanted to scoff at that because you were lying. You were fucking lying but you cannot admit it to him. His face turned to you, a glare directed into your soul and you felt a shiver run down your whole body.

“I fucking know I am the best you’ve ever had. And I know you are regretting saying it was a one-time thing.” 

Your body was set aflame at that, and you knew you were becoming aroused each second that passed. You were aroused at the bantering? Were you for real? You couldn’t do this, you had to get home because you were feeling your body tremble with adrenaline as your stomach did somersaults. 

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, you know that?” He was angry, you could see it in the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, how he was looking at you with murderous eyes, and you didn’t really have a way to defend yourself at this point but just keet arguing with him.

“Me? Fine princess. I’ll just pretend you admitted you regretted your fucking choices and so you ruined my night.” You were fuming, thighs rubbing together as your impulsiveness started to get hold of you. Your hands were restless as you looked at him, whole body flushed and burning from inside out.

“Admit!? I didn’t admit shit, and it wasn’t like that! Why can’t you just accept that!?” Your voices were loud, and you were glad no one was around you, at least nowhere close.

“Because you’re a fucking liar Peach!” His whole body was turned to you and you felt your heart hammering in your chest, blood pumping in your ears and your breath was heavy and elaborated. Your eyes were scanning his eyes, his lips as they moved, the vein on his neck, his hand as he flayed it around when he talked.

“Why the fuck would I lie about something like that!?” You gritted out of your teeth and you could feel the tension inside the car, how the air became heavy, two predators waiting for one to pounce onto the other. You dug your nails into your thighs as he rolled his eyes at you, a final scoff out of his lips.

“The sooner you admit it, the sooner we can get this over with and fuck eachother stupid, because I know you want that as much as I do.” Your mouth fell open at that, jaw dropping to your thighs almost. Your hands gripped onto your seatbelt that was still tight on you, glaring at him with sharp eyes.

“No, I do not.” He lets out a chuckle at that, shaking his head and then giving you one nod as his tongue licks on his bottom lip, trying to contain himself, his eyes looking forward and out of the windshield.

“Alright, then it’s done. I’ll take you home and I’ll go back to the club.” Your heart hammered in your chest because, why? It’s already late, he wouldn’t be able to get in. Would he? You felt your entire skin burning, your fingertips up in flames as well as your cheeks. Your body trembled and you couldn’t pinpoint why. It felt like a mixture of things, adrenaline, excitement, euphoria, anger, and– your ego being squashed.

That is all it fucking was. Your pride being destroyed right on your face. Why do you feel like this when you were the one who made the decision? He wanted to keep doing it but you refused and– You didn’t want him to fuck another girl, at least not in front of you.

Because you know you were the best he ever had.

You unbuckled your seatbelt, the noise of it making Eddie turn to look at you, your body immediately reaching for him over the console. You heard him take a sharp intake of breath, as if in a hiss, meeting you in the middle, the both of you breathing heavily, desperate for one another. Your hands grasped his face, his left hand moving to your waist, right hand on the back of your neck, and you two gave one another one final look, before closing your eyes and hungrily taking eachother’s lips.

You kissed him with the purpose of taking his breath away. You wanted to leave no air at all in his lungs as the lip smacking could be heard inside the car, loudly so. Your fingernails went into his scalp, earning a groan from his part. You wanted to die from embarrassment because you realized how desperate you were to separate your thighs for him, so you rubbed them together as his hand on your waist gripped even harder, his fingertips digging into the fabric of your dress.

Your heads turned from side to side as the kiss grew more fierce, rougher, and sloppier. You wanted to feel him again, rub yourself on him, get him inside of you as quickly as possible. You don’t even know if you have the strength to go to his or your house at this point, the need being too unbearable. 

You moaned into his mouth when his hand moved downwards, gripping your ass and you felt a sweat moving all over your body, drenching you from how hot the car felt. How hot you felt. He chuckled into the kiss at your moan which earned him a tug on his hair from your part. He growled into his throat and his hand left your ass. You wanted to whine at the loss of touch, but then he pulled away, making the both of you look at one another, and then, his seat went all the way backwards, away from the steering wheel, his left hand on the lever underneath his seat.

You didn’t hesitate, not a single second, your breathing heavy as you moved quickly over the console, not caring if you were flashing him at all, you just needed to sit down on the bulge you could clearly see on his pants. Feel him once more because who were you going to lie to right now? Lie about how you didn’t think of messaging him all week and tell him to fuck what you said before? Lie about how you were close to visiting him at his shop and probably suck his cock under his desk?

Yeah, whatever friendship you had with Eddie, it’s gone.

Your knees were against the leather seat, one on each side of his hips and your hands cradled his face once again, leaning down to kiss his lips just like seconds before. Your head was bumping slightly against the roof of the car but you didn’t care. It will be a bit uncomfortable but it’s not something you really care for right now.

His right hand gripped the lever on the side to lean the back of his seat downwards, just slightly, not all the way. You didn’t stop kissing him for a second, and then your hips collided with his and he couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, almost a whimper, which you reciprocated with a moan of your own. You could feel him through your wet underwear, rubbing deliciously against you and the zipper’s fly of his pants catching onto your aching clit. 

Your hips were rubbing against him aggressively, not caring if he noticed how desperate you were because, by how his hands started gripping your waist, and by how his own hips swayed on the seat back and forth with you tells you he was in the exact same situation as you were. 

Eddie grunted into the kiss as he felt his dick become harder, twitch at every movement, and he was probably leaking a lot of precum already. This whole week had been torturous for him, not being able to get you out of his head and no matter how many times he jerked off and dedicated his cum to your name, it wasn’t enough. 

And right now, this wasn’t what he had planned. He had planned to meet a chick at the club to take home and try to satiate himself with her, even if he knew damn well it wasn’t going to work out, he still wanted to try. He didn’t expect your jealousy, or whatever it is called because the two of you do not like eachother, not in that way.

This was just physical attraction.

He knew he was territorial. He had his reasons to, but you, you were a mystery to him. Maybe it was your ego, your pride, and it probably really was. Maybe if you weren’t there and you found out later, you wouldn’t have cared. Would he care if he found out about you sleeping with someone else? Missing a night out and to find out you went out and fucked some guy or girl–

The thought made his mind spin, his right hand flying up to grip the back of your head, yanking onto your hair so you would open your mouth. A gasp escaped you, your lips parting over his, and he took this opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth in order to meet yours. Your moans filled his throat and he felt as if he came back to life once more after the fucking week he had.

Your hands, now clawed onto his shoulders, nails digging into the stupid shirt he is wearing that looks way too good on him and you want to see it in complete shreds. Your hips started circling onto him, and you moaned into his mouth as your clit was rubbed on, your cunt just getting wetter at each roll. His hips were jerking upwards, his need to be inside of you growing each second.

You were pathetically clenching around nothing. Fuck, he felt too good, and you were so stupid for saying that it should have been a one-time thing only, and he is not even inside you yet. His dick is still inside his pants and you already felt cockdrunk on him, but it feels too good to stop. You could already feel the coil in your belly turning, finally pleased to have what it has been craving for.

His tongue was greedily licking onto yours, tasting you and devouring you, eating you whole. He wanted to eat you out again, have your pussy in his mouth, and make you crumble under his touch, but it seems there is going to be another time after this. Your hands went down his chest, and your breaths were heavy against eachother, and he couldn’t help but feel… victorious. He gripped your hair in order to pull away from you, keeping his lips close to yours and he smirked when a whimper fell from your pouted and puffy lips.

“One time thing my fucking ass, right Peach?” Your eyes were glistening with lustful tears, and you glared at him, grunting at his cockiness. You responded by rolling your hips against his, making him choke on his breath.

“Shut the fuck up Munson, my pussy drove you so mad that you didn’t think rationally at all. One of us had to be the voice of reason, and it wasn’t going to be you.” At your response, his eyes looked at you with a murderous stare, and his nostrils were flaring up at you, showing how pissed off your comment made him. 

But you were right on that.

He wanted you so bad that he didn’t want to see how it would affect the entire group and not just the two of you. He wanted to be inside of you again so bad that he was willing to risk it all. He wanted you again. He needed you again. But you are never going to hear that coming from his mouth.

“You say that, yet I had the intention of taking someone home tonight, and trust me Peach, you weren’t a choice.” And now it was your turn to glare into his eyes because, how fucking dare he? How dare he say something like that to you? Why does that hurt you? Why do you feel so angry? Why does it feel like he just carved a hole somewhere in your body?

Your hand flew to grip his chin, tilting his head back as his hand let go of your hair, letting you dive into his neck and biting him. It wasn’t that harsh, but it was enough to sink your teeth in if just a little bit. He winced, clenching his eyes as he felt his whole body tremble at the sensation. You were marking him up. Fuck, if only you knew what it was doing to him.

His dick twitched in his pants, making him groan in pain at how much pressure was being put onto him, your relentless rubbing against him making it all worse. His breathing was shaky, your tongue now lapping at the part where you had bitten. You proceeded to kiss him there, the burning in your belly becoming even more unbearable. 

You pulled away from him with a pop, trying to not hit the roof of the car with your head, and his hands gripped onto your jacket, pulling it down your shoulders and you helped him with taking it off. His mouth latched onto your neck this time, and you sat down on his thighs as you sighed in delight at his kisses. He knew he couldn’t mark you now, it would be too obvious since he probably has your fucking teeth engraved in his neck right now. 

Your hands went to his pants, and you thanked the heavens he didn’t wear a belt today. It was just a matter of seconds before you had unbuttoned him and pulled the fly of his zipper down. You were so close, and then– he pulled away.

“Shit, fuck–”

“What is it?” You were infuriated. Why was he stopping? Why was he stopping you now?

“I don’t have a condom sweetheart, and as much as I would love to fuck you raw, who knows what dick’s been in there.” That earned him a bite to his bottom lip this time, making him whimper against you. Fuck. This was another side of you that he never expected. He loved it. No one ever treated him like this, as if he was owned, as if he should know his place. This was new. You were new.

“I’m more worried about where your dick’s been. I have condoms in my purse.” And that earned you a smirk from him, his bottom lip now red and pulsing from your bite. 

“So, you came prepared.”

“And who says you were a choice?” At that, Eddie only leans in towards you, and you could see him inhaling, how his pupils dilated even more for just a second, and then focused on your face once again. 

“Oh baby, I know I was your only choice.” His and your eyes were locked on one another, fire and sparks flying between the two of you. Your jaw clenched, looking at the purse sitting on the passenger’s seat and then back at him.

“You’re gonna put it on or not?” And his hand flew to reach your purse, without taking his eyes off you. He hands it to you and you take just one second to stick your hand in and then into the small side pocket to take the condom out. You could see your phone lighting up from the movement, and that you had notifications, more than thirty minutes passed since you left the club. It can wait.

He threw the purse back to the side, and you raised yourself a bit from his thighs as you opened the condom with your teeth. He was mesmerized by you, not being able to take his eyes off you as he raised his hips to push his pants and boxers down to his bent knees. You took the latex out of the foil and you threw it away, not caring where it landed really.

You looked down to see his cock, up, alert, red, and leaking for you. You wanted to bend down and lick it clean, to taste it again, but your pussy is begging for it. It has been begging for it for the past week. You gulped as you felt your mouth watering, the back of your head touching the roof of the car from being kneeled on the seat.

Eddie was seeing how you were biting your bottom lip, looking down at his cock and– fuck you were going to be the death of him because if he is not inside you in the next three seconds, he is going to explode. He grabbed the condom from your hand, and immediately rolled it down, holding in a pathetic moan from finally feeling some friction, but it’s stupid to feel it from his own hands.

Your left hand pressed on his shoulder as the right one lifted the hem of your dress up towards your stomach, keeping it bunched up there, finally revealing your underwear to him. He licked the inside of his cheek as he saw how you pushed your thong to the side, and fuck– he could see it. He could see how sticky your underwear was to your pussy from how wet you were. He felt his heart punching his chest with the need to go down on you again, but you didn’t give him time to think at all.

You were already guiding yourself on top of him, the head of his cock gliding between your folds and catching onto your clit, making you moan with relief. Your body shook with adrenaline as Eddie’s hands went to your hips, bracing himself for the moment he had been dreaming of for days. He should have put music on because this was going to be loud, he knew it–

His thoughts were shut off as you started sinking down on him, no need for foreplay, no time for it. It was stupid to try to stop this. It was stupid to try to make this a one-time thing. It was stupid to try to make it seem as if the attraction was not there. It was stupid to try to deny that the year of hatred just made you both want eachother even more. Craving a friendship, or this, you don’t know.

A smile spread on your lips while you bit your bottom lip, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling of finally having him inside, and you couldn’t wait to feel like last saturday again. Full. Satisfied. Relaxed. You didn’t notice how Eddie was fighting off closing his own eyes so he could drink you in. You were smiling while taking his cock, slowly, inch by inch. Fuck, he can’t wait to feel you around him, to feel you pulsating, throbbing, and then the clench. That delicious fucking clench.

He threw his head back on the headrest as your mouth finally opened with a silent moan, and you looked down to where the two of you were connecting, finally opening your eyes. Your left hand on his shoulder while the other gripped the roof handle on his side for some leverage. If you didn’t, then you were for sure going to sink down at once, and even if you know you can take him, you also know you didn’t stretch yourself out first. You’re wet enough to go slow, but not to immediately slam down on him like you did last time. 

“Oh, holy fuck…” He moaned out, breaths leaving his lungs in huffs, holding himself back from thrusting his hips upwards. The more you took him, the more he was beginning to lose control of his movements. He didn’t want you to be in charge, that was his job… but fuck, you looked so good like this.

You could feel him filling you up, finally swallowing up his base, noticing how his back arched from the backrest, just slightly, as well as a whimper leaving his lips. He looks so good, he feels so good. Your breath was completely out of your lungs as you adjusted to his size, walls fluttering around him, pulsating, sucking him in and not letting him go anywhere anytime soon.

He let out a loud grunt, almost a growl, opening his eyes when your hips finally touched his. He was breathing heavily through his nose as he looked where you clearly swallowed him whole, his cock deep inside of you, and your face did not show a single sign of pain, of hurt, of displeasure. He had some doubts from last time, that maybe the euphoria of it all let you take him the way you did but– no… No, you could take him.

You can fucking take him.

“God, yes...” You breathed out when you felt the tip of his cock just touch you in places you’ve never felt before, or in a while. You weren’t sure, and you really weren’t. All you know is that now you feel amazing, and that’s what matters, that he feels amazing. Your left hand gripped his shoulder tightly, your pussy suddenly clenching around him, making his eyes go wide, and his hips jerk upwards. You gasped at the feeling, the back of your head knocking on the roof, just gently. 

“Shit– Sorry Peach– But fuck do you feel good…” His ass was back on the seat, and you took the opportunity to hover a little longer so his cock would slide out of you a few inches, and then you slammed yourself against him, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Your eyes were glistening, the pleasure taking over your features and body.

“You feel good Eddie, so good–” You could admit that to him, just like he was to you. You rolled your hips against him, your G-spot being rubbed on and your mouth fell open in silent moans. Eddie could only grip your thighs, trying not to dig his fingertips into your flesh, not wanting to hurt you but–

It was as if the two of you were made for eachother.

You raised yourself from him, only to move down again, swaying your hips just slightly as you did so. He let out a sigh of pleasure, rolling his head over the headrest as he felt you start to create a tempo slowly. He could feel how deep he was inside of you, and he kept wondering how it was possible. But just like last time, maybe some things just have no answers. ‘Because it can’ and it was as simple as that.

You were now moaning a louder, your moves quickening as you felt him glide inside of you, feeling every vein and ridge of his shaft. You felt like you were floating on clouds by how good it felt, only the burning on your thighs from the work you were putting into bringing you back to earth. 

He saw how there was some drool pooling at the corner of your mouth as it remained open with noises coming out of it each time you went down on his cock. He could also hear the squelching sound of your juices, of your wetness all around him. You look so beautiful and perfect right now, he can’t help it. He leaned forward, his right hand moving to the back of your neck to pull you downwards and clash his lips onto yours.

You moaned into the kiss as your right hand now rested on his left shoulder, mimicking your left one. You kissed him back, instantly melting your tongue with his, savoring him once again as you kept moving your hips, up and down, quicker, faster, rougher, and his left hand moved from your thigh to your ass and then–

SMACK.

You gasped into the kiss, pulling away for just a second, your right ass cheek burning from the slap it received. 

“Eddie–!” His hand pulled you back to his lips by the back of your neck. You moaned into the kiss, his hand now rubbing the area where he slapped and you just rutted your hips against him, the tip of his cock just abusing your g spot, tipping you closer and closer towards the edge. 

You didn’t feel like yourself and Eddie didn’t either. It was weird to think that the two of you were just friends a few weeks ago and now you are roughly fucking inside his car, like two horny teenagers. The windows of it all fogged up, and you are pretty sure your moans can be heard from the fucking city. 

Your belly burnt and twisted, and you felt like it was going to explode. Your orgasm was coming closer and closer and Eddie could feel it all around his cock. Your walls were throbbing against him and in all honesty, Eddie had been thinking about this for so long that his own orgasm was coming quicker than normal. He grunted when he raised his hips and then set a brutal pace on you, pistoning his hips into you, the slapping of hips loud inside the small room in the car.

You pulled away from the kiss, holding onto his shoulders and feeling his fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass. He had a death grip on you, helping him pull you down towards him as he thrust upwards into you.

“So well. Taking me so fucking well Peach–” He groaned as he felt beads of sweat falling from the side of his face, your moans and the squelch of your pussy a degenerate but blissful sound in his ears.

“Eddie– Eddie– oh fuck–” Your belly coiled, pussy clenching around him which made him stutter, feeling himself getting closer. He wished he wasn’t, just to make you time two, maybe three times around his cock, but his body was betraying him tonight. He gave one deep thrust before pulling his hips back down onto the seat, making you slam down on him, a loud grunt escaping him.

You started moving desperately, trying to chase your high, needing it, and Eddie was just letting you use him at your disposal. You were moaning his name like your life depended on it and he was loving it. His right hand left the back of your neck to push one of the straps of your dress down, as well as the strap of your bralette.

He almost ripped the cup of the lace off you but he wasn’t going to risk being yelled at by you, so he pulled it downwards, making your left breast pop out. His mouth immediately latched on your neck, kissing it sloppily. You were dizzy, your mind completely shut off thanks to pleasure as your hips kept moving on him, feeling the drag of his cock against your walls, and the tip of it hit you deliciously where you needed him the most.

You felt him unlatch from your neck to then feel your nipple being pinched by teeth. You let out a pathetic whine, a whimper, and you hear him moan against you as his lips envelop your nipple and he starts sucking on it, making you sweat all over as you feel your orgasm as if it were about to murder you.

He could feel you, smell you, and you were driving him absolutely mad. He was throbbing, begging for release, but he was holding himself back trying to wait for you to cum around him first. He needs to feel it. He lets go of your nipple with a pop and he presses his forehead against your collarbone, his face twisting as his entire body starts to shake from the impending orgasm.

“Peach– I’m going to fucking cum, fuck–” And for some reason, knowing she was making him cum by just riding him stupid was the drop that tipped over the glass.

“Ed– Ed– Eddie–!” Your eyebrows were met in the middle as your mouth remained open with breathless moans as your walls clenched tightly all around him, making you stop moving. He threw his head back onto the headrest, feeling himself being engulfed by you, trapped by you around his base and it felt too good.

“You feel so fucking good baby, god fucking damnit–” You were trembling on top of him as he moved back and forth in the seat so his cock would drag inside of you, helping you ride your orgasm out, and he realized you came with penetration only. His hands held onto your thighs now, his hips thrusting as much as they could, his breath coming out ragged as he still felt you spasming around him, and clenching on him. “-- sh-SHIT!”

He pushed your thighs down on him, seething himself deep inside of you, finally letting a loud cry escape your lips, and he clenched his eyes as he moaned your name, his seed spilling into the condom in huge spurts, and in great quantities. His hips twitched underneath you, the vein in his neck popping off from the intensity of the orgasm. He felt so good, so satisfied, his breathing coming in heavy as well as yours as you both finally relaxed, him on the seat and you over him. 

The crescent moon marks on his shoulders thanks to your nails, your heart threatening to just give up on you at any moment, the fogginess of your climax starting to slowly wear off the more you catch your breath. Your legs were shaking, spasming every now and then and he winced from the overstimulation around him.

With one hand he managed to press the button to pull the window down, letting the cool air come in and it felt like a punch to the face, a punch of reality. You felt quite shocked suddenly, pulling the strap of your bra and dress over your shoulder, fixing it on you. Eddie was just like you, just staring at your middle because the adrenaline started to wear off and– fuck.

You slowly moved your hips upwards, pulling him out of you, earning a wince from the two of you. You saw the filled condom, making the situation more real than just a passing dream. You were trying to catch your breath yet as you moved, trying not to make a fool of yourself and just fall on your face, going back to the passenger seat, stepping over the console. Once seated, you fixed your dress, looking forward completely wide eyed, feeling your juices dampening your now fixed underwear, covering you once more.

Eddie was staring at the windshield, starting to get clearer, the fog of it coming off thanks to the window being open. He gulped as he looked down and took off the condom, hearing you still fixing yourself on the passenger’s seat. He tied the latex up, and opened the small trash can container that is underneath the radio. He has to remember to take it out the next day.

He fixed his pants, then the seat and then it was just silence as the two of you looked forward into nothingness. You were slowly putting your jacket back on, and then you could hear just how quiet the outside was, making the entire situation even more embarrassing.

“We… have to talk… but tomorrow–” You started, and he quickly answered.

“Agreed.” He knows the two of you are quite in a state of shock right now, so talking about this now was not the best idea. He sees you putting your seatbelt on, so he copies your movements, and before he can ask–

“Want to… sleep over?”

end of chapter 18

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a/n: it's all uphill from here

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[spicy30]

Echoes of a Stolen Fate 1/2

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targ!Reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Targ!Reader (Platonic sibling love)

cw: Blood, Bastardry stigma, infidelity, classism, regionalism (regional bias), curse words

Rating: 16+

tags: AFAB reader, no use of Y/N, angst/no comfort, the reader has anger issues, reader takes issues against bastards, reader does not like the north, reader acts like a princess (discriminates against those who are not like her (gets it from her mom tbh, have you read about Rhaenyra?)), Reader has traditional Targaryen features (Hair and eyes, skin color nor body specified), Dino Dragon is named Acrocanthosaurus because I'm not original, Reader is assumed to be true-born due to traditional Targ features (You can decide whether she is or not)

(Not Proofread)

Indulgence is based on this post. Inspo Dino Dragon is Acrocanthosaurus.

WC: 10.8K

“Are you insane! Do you think you're mighty!?” You limped into Jacaerys’s chambers.

“What are you talking about?” He stood up walking to you. “You should be resting.” He extended his hand out to you. 

“Don’t touch me! You have such a nerve to tell me to rest but you are the sole reason I cannot!” You moved your shoulder back to prevent him from touching. 

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about, but you need to sit down and calm down.” Jacaerys urged you as he tried to coax you to sit down.

 You felt your eye twitch. “I am calm! I am not yelling or hitting you, but the Gods know that I should!” You turn around swiftly and he feels your hair slap him in the face. He closes his eyes and makes a face. He uses his arms to corner you to his bed as he pushes you slightly to sit down. 

“You’re still injured from Vhagar and Aemond.” He speaks as he looks down at your angered face. 

“You don’t think I know that!? I felt it as I walked to your room. You don’t think I’m aware of my own pain!? The dreadful scar that will be left on my leg and the way I cannot lean on my hips lest they become stuck!?” You stand up from the bed as best you can without shaking. “You don’t think I want to rest? I was happily in my bed until a little bird came and told me how pleased they were with ‘my’ choice to marry a northern brute. How brave I was to choose someplace so far from my home.”

Jacaerys breathed out a sigh understanding the reason for your visit and your tone, before backing away from you. “It was necessary. We needed to encourage the North to rally behind us and what better way than to have the Lady of Winterfell be a Targaryen who supports our mother’s claim?” 

You scoffed. “I secured an alliance with Storms End despite the troubles that presented themselves.”

You breathed heavily trying to stop yourself from yelling out in pain and crying as you looked at the lodged tooth in your lower calf, courtesy of Vhagar. You watched Aemond and Vhagar fly back to whatever hell they crawled out of. It was a miracle you survived. Your Acrocanthosaurus was nowhere as big as Vhagar, but he was large, but best of all, agile. It was a feature unique to him and him alone due to the sail-like spin that protruded upwards. It allowed him to move like no other. 

His sense of smell, however, was something else. When he flipped in the air avoiding Vhagar you thanked all the gods you knew, for if Vhagar had snuck up on you and succeeded, you’d be as good as dead. In that instant you were a hundred times glad that you proposed you come in place of Lucerys, only the gods know what would’ve happened. However, no matter how well you rode, you could not evade everything and thus you had Vhagar’s large tooth lodged through your calf. 

Despite this, if you looked on the bright side, Borros Baratheon and his men had seen what happened in the skies, the breaths of fire, the evasion, and best of all, they had seen Aemond fly off with Vhagar pronouncing you the champion. You flew down and landed making sure they could see Vhagar’s tooth lodged in your leg. 

“Is that the man you’ve promised your daughter to?” You yell pointing towards the sky in the direction where Vhagar and Aemond have fled to. “Is that the man you stand for? The man who fled battle knowing full and well I could deliver the Targaryen words for the disrespect you have dealt me and my mother!?” Acrocanthosaurus exhaled steam as he eyed the Baratheons. “The brother of the man you call king!? He was supposed to protect you, protect your daughter!”

Borros inhaled a shaky breath so as not to show fear. All he could do was stand still as you spoke, throwing his mistake in his face. Shaming him in front of all his men. He knew better than anyone what you could do with that dragon of yours. He had just seen it with his own eyes. 

“Him!? You stand with him and that usurper whore of a king!?” You glared at them as blood leaked from your leg on display for everyone to see. Had you not been in such a state of mind, you would’ve found the shame to try and cover up as your attire has been ripped showcasing everything up to your thigh. You saw some of the men close their eyes in shame. 

Good. That was what you needed to drive home the point.

“The ‘protector’ of the seven realms is he?” You inhaled a deep breath before ripping out the tooth. Your blood splattered on Borros and everyone else who stood close enough on their faces and dresses. 

“No. I’m the only protector here. I protect you and your realm by giving you your life.” You toss the tooth at Borros Baratheon’s foot. “Take it, and look long and hard at what I protected you from. Not Aemond, not Aegon, not Alicent, not anyone but me. Use this gift well Borros

Baratheon, for my protection only extends to those who are loyal to the rightful Queen and heir.” You glare down at him. 

“Well? What's your choice, My Lord?” You mocked him. You saw him clenched the large tooth. It was the size of a large dagger just as sharp and serrated. You saw blood coming from his palm. You bit back a smile. “My protection or my house words: Fire and Blood.” 

Finally, Borros bent the knee and so did the rest of the house. You smiled. “Splendid choice my lord. I am glad you have utilized my gift, but let me warn you. Should my Acrocanthosaurus smell deceit from you or anyone else, we will. Snuff. It. Out. Please continue to use my gift wisely, for I think you find it to be invaluable.” With that you took Acrocanthosaurus and flew back to Dragon Stone, successful, pray to tell with a bleeding leg, but successful nonetheless.

“I did it and all without promising you, Lucerys, or Joffrey. What is your excuse? I think mine called for it much more than yours did.” You felt your face twitch. “You promised me to a northern brute without my consent Jacaerys!”

“Cregan is a fine man. He will-” You cut him off. “Oh, mercy me! He’s a fine man now, is he? You’ll have to excuse my lack of manners for I haven’t met the man!” You emphasized as your voice grew louder and angrier. 

“This is for the good of the realm, good for you and mother.” He urged as you looked at him with an exasperated look.

You shook your head at him, backing away from him. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t care about any of that.” You started breathing heavily before you looked at him with a crazed look in your eye. An accusatory look. “You want…” You trailed off as the heavy realization hit you. “ Of course! You want-” 

Jacaerys cut you off. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking, I swear it, I do it for the good of the realm! This is what is best!”

You took in a heavy breath. “No. It is what is best for you!” Your anger-crazed eyes narrowed on to him. “I had set a future, a future I was meant for. I had my life all planned. It's what I was made for.” 

“Your future is still there, the future will always be there.” He walked closer to you as you backed away shaking your head. 

“That’s not true.” You said tears stuck in your throat. 

“Listen to me.” He said slowly. 

“That’s not true.” You repeatedly looked at him with desperate sad eyes.

“Listen to me!” Jacaerys yelled at you while looking at the floor. “Your marriage to Cregan Stark will stabilize the realm and solidify our bonds with the North and the other houses who are their sworn bannermen! Where a Stark goes, the North will follow.” He looked up to you and there you were, a hurt look on your face. He breathed in to keep his resolve. 

“I don’t want to!” You yelled back. 

“We need the North!” He grabbed your wrists so hard that you were sure bruises were to be left. 

“At the cost of my life! It is my life you have taken from me Jacaerys!” You hit your fingers against your chest to express yourself for you fear words are not enough to express the anger, sadness, and utter desperation you feel. “My life is not yours nor for anyone to take from me!” You pulled your wrists from his hands pushing him away. “I am CROWN PRINCESS!” You yell at him with all your might that you’re sure your mother and everyone else inside DragonStone can hear.“I am the next heir to the Iron Throne after Mother! You dare take it from me!?”

“I DID THIS FOR YOU! For the better of the realm and whether you like it or not, It. Is. Done!” He yelled at you before breathing and pushing back his hair. “It is for the good of the realm and nothing more.” He whispered out before walking out of his own chambers slamming the door behind him as you were left in his room to mourn the loss of your life.

…

Cregan Stark stood as preparations were made for your family’s arrival. He was told he had another fortnight to prepare due to an injury you sustained fighting the Queen of Dragons. He could only imagine the woman you were, to hold your own against the Queen of Dragons and make the Baratheons bend the knee to you and your mother after they had sworn fealty to the false king. 

Quite the woman he imagines in his mind. 

He finds himself wondering who will win, the fire that you and your dragon wield, or the cold winds of winter the North gives. In any case, he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to find out.

The North was so far from your homelands and fair springs and summers that you were used to but even then, stories of you spread everywhere. You were, after all, the heir of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and were deemed the realm's delight. One would have to live under a rock to not know who you were. 

The most recent tale of you told of your outspoken nature and its cause to lead the late King Viserys to side with your mother when claims were made of your legitimacy and that of your brothers were questioned. From accusing you and your brothers of being children of Harwin Strong to you being a bastard of Rhaenyra and Daemon. It didn’t make for a compelling case if you changed who the father was mid-argument. 

He was sure you’d fare well in Winterfell, though he wondered if he’d have to build your dragon a pit. He’s worried that your dragon might eat all the livestock the North has with how big he has heard the beast is. 

It wasn’t long before he heard the ringing of bells signaling guests and the only guests he was expecting were you and your family. He walks amongst the commons of Winterfell who were eager to see a family of Dragons. He stood ready to receive them. He saw a total of four dragons, the largest being one see deep red coloring and the longest neck he had ever seen, on a dragon or any other animal. 

All four dragons landed. The green one, Vermax, that one he had seen before, Prince Jacearys’s Dragon. The smallest one belonged to Prince Lucerys, then one with dark yellow coloring belonged to Queen Rhaenyra, and finally, the infamous Blood Wyrm, Caraxes, which belonged to Prince Daemon. 

However, most noticeably you and your dragon were missing. 

Queen Rhaenyra dismounted her dragon bringing down her youngest son with who she was riding with, little Prince Joffrey.  

Cregan bowed as did the rest of Winterfell to their rightful Queen. 

“My niece will be late, her injury holds her back. I’m sure you can understand the circumstances as you’ve heard of her victory, yes?” Daemon was against this marriage, he had heard your reluctance, and truth be told, Daemon would much rather you marry a Targaryen. You are the blood of the dragon. It was best to keep it pure and not sully it with Northern blood. Not to mention you were your mother’s heir, he figured it would be best if you instead married when your mother claimed back the Iron Throne. 

“I am well aware,” Cregan spoke and nodded in understanding. He greeted the rest of the family. By this time all the dragons have flown off to only the gods know where to try and get away from the cold air of the North. 

About to welcome them inside, Cregan heard a loud rumble that vibrated through his body. He looked up to see a large dragon, larger than any your family had. The dragon landed with a loud thud shaking the ground below him. He heard the gasps and awes being him. He stood still unmoving. You landed quite a ways away, but he saw the large beast take a step forward before it increased in speed like he had seen no animal do before. Each step makes the ground quake and consequently he and his men as well. 

It roared loud and angry. Much to Cregan’s dismay, he did step back just a bit as your beast roared. It sent many commons running and children crying. 

On top, he saw you with a pleased smile, glad they knew of the power you wielded. He watched as your dragon reached its claw for you to hold. He swallowed as he watched you unfasten your seat before grabbing onto the claw with such grace as your dragon brought you down with such gentleness it was hard to believe that such a terrifying roar could come from it.  

He watched as you nuzzled against his face, nearly turning your back to Cregan. You gave him one last rub before you turned to Cregan with a confident look as your hand kept rubbing the underside of its jaw. You were making your presence known to him. A commanding one at that, commanding him to submit. If he were a lesser man or any other man at all he would’ve. A woman with a reputation as yours and a grand beast who stood off against the queen of dragons and came out victorious. Yes, now he understands why Borros Baratheon bent the knee to you. Your presence was commanding and strong. 

The presence that belongs to those who are regal. 

Luckily for Cregan Stark, he is not Borros Baratheon or any other man. The North itself is something to fear and Cregan has lived it his whole life, so he does not look away even as your dragon exhales a puff of smoke to him, it burns his eyes but he does not look away from you. It wasn’t until your uncle interrupted.

Your uncle Daemon called out to you and you both broke eye contact at the same time. For now, it was a tie. 

…

You had yet to speak a single word to Cregan and by this time it had already been a week. You bid your time talking to your mother, meeting with Acrocanthosaurus as he warmed you, avoiding your brother, and simply resting. Your leg was still in bad shape, it was painful walking up and down stairs. Walking in the snow only served to exhaust you. 

A knock sounded at the door as you heard a familiar voice call from the other side. Jacaerys, your traitorous little brother. 

“You cannot hope to win over the North if you never speak to any of them.” Jacaerys entered your room. 

You said nothing as you stared at him with no expression. “I am marrying the Warden of the North, if they’re as loyal as they say, it won’t matter if I turn into a damned silent sister. As long as I have the Stark next to me, the North will follow or so you say.” 

Jacearys looked at you as you spit his words to him. “I understand how you feel, but this is what is best. The North is a vital part.” He walked over to you, reaching his hand out as a sign of peace. 

You slapped it away as you glared up at him from your chair. “You cannot possibly claim to know how I feel.” You pushed yourself up from your chair and stood face to face with your brother. “So stop lying! What was best was me as heir, not you or anyone else's! Me!” 

You breathed heavily as you walked close to him until you could feel his breath on your face. “I was born for it. I was not born out of love and you know that. Look at me and then look at you.” Your Valyrian features stared back at his plain ones. “We are not the same, we share a mother, but I am not born of Harwin Strong.” You knew this was crossing a line, to call your own brother a bastard. However, the worst part is you didn’t know if you meant it or not. You just felt so angry. Angry that you were sold like you were worth nothing! As if anyone had a claim to you as if you were some prize, as if you were only good for giving heirs when you were made for the Iron Throne. It was the only reason your father Laenor and your mother had you! You did not lack love, but to know you were not truly born from love like your brothers were, perhaps, it was a need to prove that it was all worth it. 

You being born was worth it. 

So when you watched your little brother clench his jaw and look away so you did not see that your words had hurt him, you had to pull the instinctual hand that reached for him so naturally to comfort him. 

Your little brother who pulled your hair when he was younger, your little brother whom you sang to when he was born, your little brother who you held through stormy nights, your little brother who always wanted to be with you but you sent him away, your little brother who had such a kind heart and always cried when you got hurt. 

To hurt your first little brother felt as if you stabbed yourself and it hurt, it hurt so much. It hurt more than any physical injury ever could. 

When Jacaerys looked back at you and saw the slight redness in your eyes that was forming and your eyes glossed over. It took him by surprise. He had never seen you cry or even be on the verge of it. He had seen you angry, so angry sometimes it scared him when he was younger. He remembers seeing you slap a maid so hard that the bottom of her jaw and to this day looks uneven. Then you sent her to be whipped through the streets and all because you caught a little whisper from her calling him a bastard. He had seen you reckless like the day you protected him, and your brothers by putting your own legitimacy on the line. He had seen you vengeful against Ser Criston Cole, he had seen you in all your moments, and in all the moments you stood tall. 

Jacaerys thought the world of you. 

You were invincible. To him, to everyone, you were someone who could never be broken.

I will always be your older sister, you will never be able to best me.

Those were the words you spoke to him. When you fought him and had him pinned down, those would be the words you would tell him every time without fail. It only served to remind him just how grand you were.

So to see you on the verge of tears because of what he had done to you. He had broken his big sister who was supposed to be invincible, he felt like his legs were going to give out. He wished he could take back what he had done to you. To look at you as you seemed to crack felt wrong. 

He wanted his invincible big sister back. His invincible big sister who would brave anything and everything all in the name of him, for Lucerys, for Joffrey. 

He felt like a boy again crying for you when he saw you get hurt from trying to mount your dragon only to fall. He felt like a boy who cried because he didn’t know why the Queen gave him such mean looks but you were always there to stand in front of him protecting him from the gazes and the whispers. 

At this moment he wanted his big sister to tell him that it was okay and that she forgave him and to tell him that he’s not a bastard, that he's your little brother and you’re his big sister, and that he will never be able to best you. 

He didn’t want to be the reason why you cry, though he knows it should be him comforting you, but he can’t help but yearn for it himself. 

So Jacaerys looks away from you and turns away to walk out. Before he walks out he turns and looks at you with regretful eyes, regret for the misery he has caused you. “For what it's worth, I truly am sorry and I only did what I thought was best.” 

You watched Jacearys walk out and you extended your hand out to him before you retracted it. You covered your mouth as tears leaked from your eyes. A quiet sob escaped your lips as you cried begging for God's forgiveness for calling your little brother a bastard. 

…

Cregan watched as his men spoke in the dining hall and to his right at your family and to his left was your chair which was empty and his half-sister, Sara who sat on your left. Cregan had demanded that everyone wait to begin the feast until you attended. By this time, you were very late, however, he had heard how long it takes you to go down and up the stairs due to your injury. 

 Finally, a couple minutes later the doors of the dining hall opened and there you were in all your glory. A fine gown you wore, a remnant of the southern style. A deep crimson red, with subtle patterned embroidery throughout. The bodice was adorned with a gold chain-like trim along the neckline and waist, which is emphasized by a central brooch at the chest. The dress had a layered look, with an underlayer of shimmering gold fabric visible beneath the crimson outer layer, which features detailed scroll-like patterns.

Your sleeves were long and wide, typical style of southern ladies, with a luxurious golden fabric peeking through. Your sleeves also have lace at the cuffs, adding to the opulence of the gown. A gold necklace with a pendant mirrors the gold accents in the gown. You looked at the very image of a regal aristocratic appearance.

He watched you as you walked slowly to the main table. You moved so slowly yet you had no limp though he could see the slight tense look your face held. Surely you were still in pain and you could show none of it as everyone watched you walk down the aisle towards him. Agonizingly slow you walked around the table to your spot next to him. He heard the slightly heavy breaths and sounds you made as you sat down. 

When you finally sat your mother lifted her chalice in honor of the marriage. “To the union of two great houses.” The men cheered as they each lifted their chalice.

Cregan lifted his chalice and standing he turned to your mother toasting her honor. “To the rightful Queen.” Once more his men cheered and he watched you toast earnestly to your mother. He sat down and watched you from the corner of his eye watching you drink all your wine in one fell swoop. You saw you turn to him afterward and he faced you. 

“I apologize for my tardiness, Lord Stark. Normally I tend to be punctual, however, Winterfell is grand and unknown to me, so I will do my best to be on time for our next banquet.” You spoke to him in a monotone and practiced way.  

“There is nothing to be forgiven for your grace, Winterfell is grand but you will learn your way eventually. I have also been informed of your injury, we take no offense to your delay.” He reassured you and gave him a hum of approval, though it sounded as if you dismissed not caring for his response. For the rest of the night, you didn’t talk to him again, nor did you ever give a smile, not even when Sara attempted to converse with you. 

…

You left before the banquet was over as your calf had begun to sting. Struggling up the stairs you dismissed all your ladies. Stopping and leaning against the wall you sighed. You still had a ways to go. Taking a deep breath you continued forward. 

“Do you want help?” A male voice rang out.

 You turned, it was Jacaerys. You felt a pang in your heart remembering your harsh words to him. He was your brother, despite the fact you were still deeply upset by the whole ordeal, you would never hate your little brother, not for long anyway. Swallowing your pride, you nodded. 

Jacaerys walked up the stairs and then picked up most of your weight off your injured leg. It was quiet as you both walked up the stairs. You spent the time thinking about how you would start your apology. Finally arriving at the door of your chamber, he opened it and sat you down on your bed. You thanked him and he nodded before turning around to leave. 

Jacaerys had originally sought to find you to apologize but he found that he wasn’t brave enough to. Not because he wasn’t sorry, but because he didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t forgive him. He saw the look you gave him. You were outraged with him and it had been a fortnight since the day you stormed into his room. To see that anger directed at him, he didn’t know if you would have mercy on him. He had never known you to be merciful to those who enraged you. 

Jacaerys doesn’t think he could bear it if his big sister refused to forgive him. He couldn’t bear that rejection, so he figured it would be best that he not even try. If he does not try, then he cannot be rejected. 

As he turned to leave he felt your hand grasp his. He turned and looked at you as you looked at him with those same glossy eyes from before. 

“Jacaerys wait.” You told him. Your voice was fragile and meek. A tone he had never heard before. It made his hand tremble just a bit.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered out before you began crying. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it! I swear! I would never presume you to be what I called you.” You cried harder as Jacaerys stood still watching you cry. You gripped his hand tightly. “I was just…” Your voice cracked as you spoke to him. “You cannot begin to understand how I felt when you told me I was being married off. I felt like a mare being sold off to be bred. I felt as if I was being stripped of my worth! My worth as a person because the gods know that we women have been deemed to have little worth other than our wombs!” You hugged his waist and cried begging for his forgiveness. 

Squeezing your hand in his he fell to his knees cradling your face and shaking his head. The shame he felt making you cry and beg for his forgiveness was unbearable. Jacaerys has always thought the world of you and he will always think the world of you. Your image could never be destroyed by him. 

“You are the wrong sister! There is nothing to be forgiven for! It is I who should be begging for your forgiveness.” He spoke with desperation as he wiped the tears from your eyes. “I have sent you to a life that was not meant for you. I am sorry, I am sorry for making you cry! I never intended it, I would never hurt you. I can take it back, here and now, I can march in the banquet and call off the wedding!” He hugged your waist as his face was in your skirts begging for your forgiveness. “If I had known this marriage would bring you to tears I would’ve never even suggested it to Lord Stark!”

“Sweet brother,” You called and he lifted his head up to you. In you, he saw his caring older sister, and despite your disheveled look and a flushed face from crying, you sat there holding his face, his sister who always took care of him. He had felt himself shrink back into the young boy who always sought out his sister. He felt your hand brush his curls back and he leaned into your touch. 

“I do not cry because of what you did.” He furrowed his brows in confusion as you gave him a soft smile. “I cry because of the pain I caused you. You mean the world to me Jacaerys. You, Lucerys, Joffrey, and mother. You all mean the world to me and I would burn King’s Landing down and the rest of the world then see any of you hurt.” He held your hand and cradled it against his face as you smiled. “I cry because I was the reason you were hurt. The awful things I said to you, they should’ve never even entered my mind, and for that little brother, I will spend the rest of my days repenting.” 

“I thought it was because of what I did…” He trailed off relishing the feeling of his sister’s comforting hand against his face. 

“Silly boy, I am your older sister and you will never beat me, you will never make me cry for something you did. I shed tears for you because I love you.” You smile at your little brother as your other hand comes up to cradle his face. You feel the incoming facial hair and you feel a surge of that well-known sadness in your heart at how big your little brother has grown. “I will always love you and Joffrey, mother and Lucerys. It is all I live for. The moments I share your laughter are all I can ask for in this life. No throne is worth having you think I hate you. I will never hate you or our brothers.”  

“I can still march down there and call off the wedding.” Jacearys offered while looking up at you. He watched you shake your head. 

“I would sooner see myself impaled than bring shame to you or our family. Despite my unwillingness, I will not disgrace you. Even if the Stark came and said he didn’t want to marry me. I would have Acrocanthosaurus bring him to me.” You jested smiling down at him. 

“Such a long name you have given your dragon.” Jacaerys teases while staying in your hold. 

“I think it is a proper name, it suits him. High-spined lizard is what his name means.” You grin at him as Jacaerys flutters his eyes closed and smiles and at that moment you wish for all time to stop, to let you and your brother remain in this moment forever.

…

Cregan was neither stupid nor blind. He knew you did not want this marriage. It wasn’t as if you didn’t try to hide it. Sending all the ladies from noble Northern houses away who were delighted at the possibility of being part of your ladies-in-waiting. You had not sought him in the week you had been here for the possibility of getting to know him. It became increasingly clear that this marriage to you was nothing more than an annoyance. You didn’t have to say it, but Southerners had such a way with words and body language that always communicated the message clearly. 

You were not here by choice. 

Cregan was not someone who would force someone into something they did not want, his allegiance would still be there, this marriage was simply a courtesy that he had accepted from Prince Jacaerys. It worked out well for Cregan, he would get the elders to stop pressuring him about marriage and an heir while strengthening his bonds with the South. Your dragon was an extra welcome for what lay beyond the wall. However, if you objected to this marriage, he would not push, after all, Arra Norrey was still a candidate for him to marry. He’d rather have someone willing and someone he knew and loved than someone who didn’t even seem to like the North. 

So after the banquet was over Cregan set out to your chambers intent on talking to you. He walked and opened the door only to see you and your brother. Your hands were on either side of his face as you whispered to him that you loved him and that you would always love him, while Jacaerys learned into your touch. 

When you both noticed his presence Jacaerys quickly stood up while you stayed seated on your bed.  “Lord Stark.” Both you and Jacearys spoke in unison. Cregan had known it was common practice to marry brother and sister within the Targaryen family. Then it suddenly became clear to him, perhaps, that you did not want to marry him because you were in love with your brother and wished to marry him. Though if that were the case then why would Jacaerys offer you to him, perhaps he did not know and you decided to confess on the night before your wedding.  

“I did not know you were coming, my ladies did not inform me.” You spoke with a cool tone as if he didn’t catch you confessing to your brother. 

“I did not inform anyone your ladies are not at fault,” Cregan responded in his tone, taking on his usual firmness that until now, he didn’t have. He didn’t know why he spoke to you like that, you didn’t mean anything to him and he had hardly spoken to you. What he caught between you and your brother shouldn’t mean anything to him, but you were to his bride and his lady, perhaps it was his image he was worried about.

“Why have you come to see my sister, Lord Stark?” Jacaerys spoke, annoyed that Cregan had spoiled the moment between him and his older sister. 

“I had come to speak to her of private matters that I have noticed as of late,” Cregan looked at the both of you with a practiced face. 

You nod and look towards Jacaerys. You smiled at him before he nodded and left. 

“My Lord, apologies, my brother and I, we share a bond that of late had suffered hardships, I wished to reconcile with him before our wedding tomorrow.” You explained as you offered him a seat which he declined. 

“No matter your grace, if you do not wish to break the bond you and your brother have, I will not take offense to it. I know it is your family’s custom to marry siblings and if I will not force you into a marriage that is not of your own accord.” Cregan told you. He watched you furrow your brows. In truth, he did wish for you not to marry him, his heart lay with another but it would be an insult to his pride, and a man no matter how honorable, will always have pride.

“Excuse you?” You looked at him offended. “Marry my brother? What brought about the notion that I should want to marry my brother?” You narrowed your eyes at him. You found it disgusting that he would twist your innocent relationship with Jacaerys into something else. 

“If you want an excuse to not marry me, be a man and tell it as it is.” You limped forward glaring at him. “But don’t ever presume to twist the love I have for my brother as an excuse.”

“What else am I supposed to make of it when I find you and your brother in such a way? Your refusal of all Northern traditions. It is well accepted that siblings within the Targaryens marry.” He retorted, matching your fierce tone. 

“You insult the relationship my brother and I share!? Why you-!” You gasped in disbelief while Cregan looked at you coldly. “You Northern brutes! Your hearts are so frozen that you cannot even distinguish sibling love from that of lovers!” You insult him.

“A Northern brute is it?” He scoffs at you. “Then perhaps, you shouldn’t marry these Northern brutes and go back home to your fair springs and summers you’ve known all your life.” He retorted looking down at you. Despite the obvious size disparity, you did not back down and instead walked forward so your chest was against his, or it would’ve been, yours only reaching just under his. He stared in disbelief at your actions.

“I don’t want to marry you! I never did! I am the Crown Princess, why would I ever agree to marry you?” You raised your voice slightly at him.

“Good. I would rather have a wife who would at least try to make something of this-” Cregan fought the urge to make a face at the hand you shoved in his face, cutting him off.

“But…It has already been agreed that I will marry you. Whether you like it or not, you and I will be husband and wife tomorrow.” You poked his chest every time you spoke to him. “Should you refuse me and stay within these pretty walls…” You trailed your fingers up his chest up to his neck and wrapped your arm around him bringing him down a little. “I will have Acrocanthosaurus tear down these grand walls that your ancestor built and drag you out by your,” You played with the hem of the fur on his cloak. “Cloak.” You let go while Cregan stood trying to understand what just happened. 

“Now get out! I would rather not be angry on the day of my wedding and your presence and the impiety you spoke of between me and my brother only serves to infuriate me.” You pushed him back as hard as you could only to see him step back slightly as he looked down at you with a look you couldn’t quite describe. Pushing him a couple more times you close the door on him as you limp back to your bed. 

Outside your door, Cregan stood confused. Words you spoke had no sense in them. First, you confessed that you wanted nothing to do with him and you didn’t want this marriage and the next you threatened that if he rejected you, you would drag him out using your dragon. A vexing woman you were. 

…

The next morning went by faster than Cregan would’ve liked it to—the day of his wedding to you. Your exchange last night left him quite unsure of your nature. He tried not to think about you too much, not about your touch to his chest, or your arm around him, not your sweet wine-scented breath on the side of his face that made his hair stand on end, and certainly not your chest against his. Your words that were meant as a threat ignited something within that he would rather not admit. A woman like you, a woman with a sharp tongue as yours, he had never had the pleasure of meeting, you were his first. 

However, he felt a guilt pool in his gut as he thought of Arra Norrey. She will be in attendance today. He had always felt that she would be the one he would marry. His heart belonged to her but he thought of you. A damned woman you were, never had he thought about you, not the day Jacaerys had promised you to him, not the day you arrived in Winterfell in all your glory, not a single day until last night. 

All night he stayed up thinking of what you told him, thinking of your Valyrian features instead of the brown hair and brown eyes of Arra. Though the guilt seeped into him, it did not stop him from thinking of you. He briefly entertained the idea of rejecting you to see if you were true to your word. If you would force him to marry you, if you would really tear down the walls of Winterfell to get to him. He later decided that it would be best to not test that theory. Regardless of when to shift his thoughts to Arra instead of you the contrasts of your personality would come to his mind. 

Finally having enough of thinking of you he went to Weirwood tree to think, the very place where the two of you would be married. He sat on the bench as he wore his wedding attire simply looking at his reflection in the blackness of the water. He didn’t know how long he stared until a figure appeared in the pond next to him. He turned swiftly to see the person he was dreading looking in the eye. Arra Norrey, the woman he thought he was going to marry, and he, the man she thought she was going to marry. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” She spoke softly like she always did. Despite being of the North, Arra did not have the characteristics of a Northern woman, she was not hardened by the ice nor cold winds of winter. “I wanted to speak to you one more time before you became a married man, to the Crown Princess nonetheless, to the realm’s delight I heard she was deemed, like her mother. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her.” 

“It has been no pleasure.” It slipped out of his mouth before could register what he said. He heard Arra laugh beside him. He had forgotten how relaxed he would feel next to her. He wondered if he would ever feel that relaxed with you. He doubted it with your sharp tongue, if anything it would have to be him to keep you in line. 

He sighed and cursed himself for thinking of you while he had Arra right next to him. 

“She is the blood of the dragon and you have the winds of winter flowing through your veins. I wouldn’t expect it to be for the both of you to get along well.” Arra offered though Cregan found himself with a little thorn of annoyance at her comment. 

“Is she as beautiful as they say? As they say, all  Targeryens are?” She asks leaning forward while leaning on her arm. 

“She is the blood of old Valryia and she holds true to their features. Their hair, white as snow, and their eyes purple as lavender. It makes for quite a face to look at.” He admits to her as he looks at her through the reflection of the pond. 

“Has she agreed to give up the Crown for you and the North?” She asked, turning to him and looking at the side of his face, admiring him. 

“She still refers to herself as the Crown Princess, I don’t think she plans on abandoning her ambition for a throne that is rightfully hers.” He speaks to Arra and turns to face her only to find her closer to his face than he expected. His eyes drift down to her lips and then back up to her face. A face he had grown up with, a face that grew more beautiful with each passing day. 

“Cregan…” Arra spoke in a soft tone. “She will never just be the lady of Winterfell as one needs your wife to do.” She spoke softer as Cregan crept closer to her. 

He watched her lean forward, he found himself doing the same and under the Weirwood tree, Cregan kissed the woman who was supposed to be his wife. Years of yearning surfaced and soon it became desperate with her clawing at his cloaks as he held her tight against him. She broke away from him to breathe. He watched her eyes widen in fear. She backed away from him and watched her nearly fall back before he caught her. 

“Arra?” He questioned before she saw her point behind him in fear. “Dra-” She didn’t even finish the sentence before Cregan felt a heat on his back and black smoke spreading around him. Turning he saw your dragon, Acrocanthosaurus you called him. The large beast crept forward, eyes green and angry. It gave a loud roar and he heard Arra scream from under him. Cregan saw its tail coming fast, he ducked and told Arra to run. 

He watched her go while he stood in front of the great beast who looked as angry as ever. He could only stand and yell at it to stop in an attempt to get it to stop and focus on him instead of the direction Arra had run to. 

Your dragon bared its teeth itching closer. This beast was loyal to you and intelligent, it had probably seen what happened under the Weirwood tree, the same Weirwood tree that he was set to marry you in only a couple of hours. 

“Kelītīs!” (Stop) You yelled and Acrocanthosaurus did but not before blowing hot black smoke in his face ruining his clothes as black soot covered him. 

“Jikagon” (Go) You murmured as you kissed his snout. Growling Acrocanthosaurus left you and Cregan alone while his men and your ladies stood back. You glared at him as you took off your coat to wipe the soot off his face. 

“What did you do?” You questioned him. 

“What was your dragon doing in the Weirwood forest? He would have burnt it down.” He retorted, avoiding your question. 

“I asked first.” You countered as you finished rubbing the soot off of his face going down to start on his clothes. He stopped you as he stood up. 

“Keep him out of these woods,” Cregan ordered you and you felt yourself clenched your jaw. 

“You cannot command a dragon. Dragons do whatever they want, eat whatever they want, whenever they want.” You stood tall as he gave you his back.

 He turned to face you over his shoulder before telling you once more to keep him out of the woods before he walked off. So much for going to the weirwood forest to get his mind off of you. 

You narrowed your eyes at him and your ladies ruched to you. You told them to go away as you limped deeper into the weirwood calling Acrocanthosaurus back. He landed hard and loud and you knew Cregan felt it. Satisfied, Acrocanthosaurus reached his claw to you and you climbed on for him to bring you up to his saddle. Fastening yourself you flew off. 

Cregan turned and watched as you rode off on your beast. 

…

The people sat in the seats provided in the weirwood forest anxious. They had heard of the quarrel between future spouses and how you flew off on your dragon. They feared the worst. That you would never return. Your mother had sent Daemon, Lucerys, and Jacaerys to look for you. All three came back without news, though Rhaenyra doubts Daemon tried hard to find you. 

All the guests sat uncomfortably while Cregan stood in the front waiting for his bride-to-be though his eyes kept drifting to Arra. Each time his eyes would wander, he would find her eyes already on him. Every time he looked at her, their kiss flashed before his eyes. Their kiss under the weirwood tree made it sacred. Yet despite that here he stood alone preparing to marry someone else. 

As he stared at Arra longer the more his patience thinned for you. If you didn’t show then why marry you when he could marry Arra, someone who wouldn’t leave him here looking like an idiot. He gave a frustrated sigh and was prepared to walk off, however, as he sighed he felt a familiar rumble. 

He watched your dragon land with a heavy thud with you on top. He watched as you held on to the claw your dragon offered you and watched you land and stand towards the end of the aisle. Jacaerys quickly gets up walking to you before offering his hand as if you weren’t late to your own wedding. 

Cregan watches Jacearys whisper something but you don't seem to respond. His eyes look behind you focusing on Arra who seems to have her eyes on you. He watched Arra stare at you as you walked down the aisle.  

The maester stopped before them as the ceremony began snapping Cregan’s attention back to you and your brother. 

“Who comes before the old gods tonight?” The maester asked.

Jacaerys spoke your name and all the titles you had won. “Has come to be wed. A woman, grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods.” 

He watched your eyes flicker towards your brother at the words.

“Who comes to claim her?” Your brother finished. 

Cregan stepped forward. “Cregan, of House Stark. Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell.” As he spoke those words he caught sight of Arra shifting in her seat uncomfortably. “Who gives her?” Cregan's eyes shifted towards your brother away from Arra. 

“Jacaerys of House Velaryon, her brother.” He responds in kind now waiting for the Maester’s next words.

“Your Grace, do you take this man?” The Maester asked, looking at you.

He watched you as you looked at him with an expression he couldn’t read. He saw all the eyes focusing on you, the unamused look of your uncle Daemon, the expectant look on your mother’s face, but the only look that he could pay attention to was the hurt expression on Arra’s face, almost begging for you to say no.

You stepped forward to Cregan. “I take this man.” Just like that, Cregan’s and your life was changed irreversibly. He would never marry the woman he first kissed under the weirwood tree and you now became the lady of the steadfast that lay over four hundred leagues away. 

He heard the claps that erupted from the crowd. He looked into the crowd and only looked down at you when he saw you come closer to him, your cold hands landed on either side of his face. He felt the slight pull from your hands and he obliged, leaning down and looking at you and your features, the features he had spent all last night thinking of. He closed his eyes expecting to feel your kiss. 

He did feel your kiss, just not where he expected, instead, he felt it on the side of his mouth. Your lips were cold but soft. He felt disappointed that you didn’t kiss him, but when he opened his eyes, he couldn’t find it in himself to remain that way for long. 

Your face was flushed, pink on your face becoming more prominent. Your face was ever pleasing to the eye, and now that it was flushed, you didn’t look him in the eye and had a shy expression on, Cregan doesn’t think anyone else could ever compare, he couldn’t think of anyone that even came close. No one or nothing was in his mind other than you. You were irresistible in that moment and for the first time since the ceremony started, Cregan only had eyes for you.

He went to reach his hands out to give you a proper kiss. He could barely contain the excitement that if this was your face with a slight innocent kiss, how would you look when he gave you a real kiss? 

Before he had the chance to find out however you turned away from him. You gave the crowd an embarrassed smile and Cregan could not find the will to look away from you.

…

As you turned away from Cregan trying your best to push away the unwanted blush on your face, you looked at Acrocanthosaurus who didn’t exactly look pleased. During the flight you had felt his anger, not anger at anything, but for you. Acrocanthosaurus was incredibly perceptive and very intelligent as all dragons are, so when you felt the anger, you knew Cregan had done something to elicit the reaction from him, however, you didn’t know what Cregan did or how serious it was. Acrocanthosaurus already didn’t like him due to your initial feelings about the whole ordeal of marrying him, but Acrocanthosaurus had a bit of temper making his anger towards Cregan a bit unreliable. 

However, now as you stand facing everyone you look toward where Acrocanthosaurus had his gaze narrowed on the left side of the crowd. You drew your eyes and in the crowd sat a familiar woman. A woman with Northen features, plain features. You stared at her and her family. They bore the sigil of a Northern house that you had never seen before, pray to tell, you didn’t put much effort into memorizing them but it was clear this woman had something to do with why Acrocanthosaurus nearly spit fire at the Warden of the North. 

You drew your gaze from the woman who looked oddly familiar, in any case, there was no reason for you to look at her when she was so clearly not paying any attention to you, instead, she looked next to you. Ignoring her you looked towards your mother who gave you a nod of approval. You could only find it in you to give a courteous smile back all while your Uncle Daemon gave you a knowing look. You knew he would much rather you be married off to another Targaryen, he knew full and well you did not want this marriage and when he could, he tried to persuade your mother against having you marry Cregan Stark, though all in vain as you now stood here, the newest Lady of Winterfell. 

After some time the party made its way inside the walls of Winterfell. Throughout the night you had seen Cregan tap his food more than you’d seen anyone tap their foot in your life. You wondered if that was simply a habit he had, though in your opinion it was unbecoming of a lord like him, or if he was simply an impatient man. 

The Northern lords had come to introduce themselves to their new lady. You sat still with a plain smile on your mouth. Finally, the woman who Acrocanthosaurus had been glaring at came up with her family. You noticed her eyes only really sat on Cregan only ever briefly looking at you. They must’ve known each other as they looked at each other with familiar friendliness. 

“My Lady…” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the title. As far as you were concerned you were still very much Crown Princess. You still wanted to rule, it’s what you were made for, and you’ll be damned before any marriage to a Stark or any other lord would take that title away from you. You got lost in your thoughts not really registering whatever courtesies they were saying. “House Norrey is glad to welcome you. Our daughter, Arra Norrey, would be pleased to be a lady in waiting.” Your ears focused when they mentioned the house name. 

‘Norrey…Norrey?’ You had heard that name before, someone had told you that name before.

“I must warn you, in marrying my brother, he might be a little closed off to you, for you were not the person that was intended for marriage. House Norrey and their daughter, Arra Norrey, were very close to the Starks and they have grown up together and both intended to marry each other when they were younger. But do not fret your grace! My brother is ever dutiful and is the embodiment of honor itself. He will fulfill his duty as best he can and over time you will see he will grow to care for you and as you will.” Sara Snow, the bastard of the late Lord Rickon Stark, spoke to you in hushed tones. 

Your eye twitched at her blabbering. You honestly wanted nothing to just tell her to shut up and that you could care less about Cregan’s childhood sweetheart. If anything it made Cregan less appealing in your eyes than he already was. You already felt insulted that a bastard was seated next to you, more so that she had the nerve to talk to you as if you were friends or worse, sisters. Having enough of the bastard's words you gave her a curt smile and excused yourself from the banquet. 

‘Norrey.’ That's right that blabbering bastard girl had told you about them. Childhood friends who thought they were going to marry…. ‘Oh.’ The thought echoed in your head and suddenly your plain smile became a forced one as you struggled to keep your composure as you felt your anger spike. The woman, Arra, looked at you and finally, you realized what happened, she was the woman who had yelled that your dragon was going to burn Cregan, she had been in the Gods Wood with him…alone. That whore and the man who you now called husband had done something they weren’t supposed to be doing in the very place you married him, that's why Acrocanthosaurus acted the way he did. He had seen. That's also why Cregan avoided your question.

Everything started to click in your mind and the more it did the more you had to suppress the anger that threatened to spill. 

“My lady, you look radiant,” Arra spoke to you. You felt your eye start itching, a sign it would start twitching. 

“Yes, as are all Targaryens.” You didn’t bother thanking her for the compliment. “Lady Arra is it?” You questioned her as she smiled brightly at you. 

‘Bitch.’ The word echoed in your mind. 

“I am. I am honored you recognized me.” She spoke. You noticed while she kept her eyes on you, her attention was not. Instead, it was on the man next to you. 

“How could I not? You are the only reason why I have my Lord husband next to me. I thank you for calling attention to me.” That seemed to get her attention, but it wasn’t her attention you wanted. What you wanted was to insult every part of her being and have her publicly shamed. Have her naked and whipped through the streets. If she was so eager to open her legs to your Lord Husband, it didn’t matter who saw what was underneath her cheap Northern dress.

“Your father told me you want to be my lady-in-waiting?” You looked her up and down and smiled watching her smile in turn. Surely she wanted nothing more than to be back in Winterfell.

“I’m sure I will need more in due time.” You leaned over and grabbed your husband’s hand holding it close to your stomach as you leaned into him. You didn’t bother to acknowledge Cregan’s reaction. Normally if this were the South you wouldn't be so bold, but you're sure she didn’t pick up your distaste for her. Northern women were so utterly dense. “With the many children Cregan and I will have, it will be such a handful, and having you there to help me take care of the future heirs of Winterfell born between Cregan and I, would bring me the most joy.” You watched her smile fall before quickly replacing it with a smile. 

‘Idiot.’ You rolled your eyes internally at her reaction. Southern ladies of the court would never let their faces fall not even for a second, she wouldn’t last a day in court.

For the rest of the night, you kept Cregan’s hand in your own hands only offering fake smiles to him but never speaking a word to him or anyone else. 

Finally, it was time for the bedding ceremony. You stood up trembling, your leg and hip were stiff from sitting too long. Cregan helped you up, you thanked him before walking slowly trying to avoid limping. The men cheered and rallied around you and Cregan. You knew it was a part of tradition but to have these people see you, people you deemed as common seeing your bare body, it made you disgusted. Their grimy eyes watching you, the Northerners, truly beastly savages, no different than wildlings in your eyes. 

Looking at the ways you had to go you sighed as you took the first step up the stairs. It hurt. Once more you took another, then one more before you had to stop to let your leg rest. You felt a pair of strong arms grab and lift you. It took everything you had not to scream, not only because you had no idea who grabbed you, but also because it hurt, they had pushed your legs together and consequently your calves together having them rub against one another. 

Vhagar’s tooth went completely through your calf and Maesters told you that it was probable that you would never walk normally again.

Cregan apologized for the pain he caused you. He had heard your small yelp when he lifted you. Before continuing upstairs he turned and told his men off, that the bedding ceremony should only require a maester and a witness. His men walked away leaving only your mother, your uncle, and the Maester of Winterfell. 

Entering the wedding chambers built specifically for bedding ceremonies, he set you down while your mother, uncle, and Maester went behind a wall to watch. You looked over to where your witnesses would be watching from and breathed in a deep breath before looking away and began to undo your wedding gown as Cregan began to undress himself. 

This was less than ideal for him, he’d rather have you without watching eyes, but the North’s very foundation lay on tradition. 

He stood bare in front of you yet you did not look at him or at least at the parts he wanted you to see, instead focused on his face as you undid the back of your dress. He walked behind you helping you with the laces until your dress fell off you. He took in the sight of your body and began rubbing the sides of your arms while kissing your shoulders taking in your scent. He heard you take in a heavy breath before you turned to face him. He reached for your face as he bent down intent on finally claiming your lips as his. 

He fought off a surprise look when you avoided it and instead kissed his cheek. “I’d rather not share something so intimate.” Though your words had other meanings he didn’t know that. He nodded and gently pushed down to the bed as he crawled over you.

…

Behind the wall, Rhaenyra stood as she compared her first time or any of the times she had with her lovers with what she was seeing. It lacked all the passion she had for her first time, and for the first time, she began doubting her decision to endorse this marriage. She felt Daemons’s eyes on her. She looked up at him, the guilt starting to pool in her stomach. He looked at her with a look that told her ‘I told you this was a mistake.’ She sighed before making her way out. The first penetration had already been made and there was no reason to stay any longer. So as she left, Daemon and the Maester followed out behind her. 

…

Hours after your first time together Cregan lay awake as he watched you face the wall, your back to him. He was confident the eyes behind the wall had left. He reached for you brushing your hair off your back. You turned to him, his marks already taking form on your collarbone and your breasts. 

He reached for your face once more and you stayed still making him lean in. “I’d rather not share something so intimate.” You repeated your words to him. 

“There is no one here but you and I, I swear it.” Cregan inched closer to you looking deep into your eyes. “May I?” He asked caressing his thumb against your bottom lip. He watched as your lips moved to tell him the answer.

“No.”

Notes: I got lazy towards the end, sorry.

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

2/2

[diejager]

I've been reading the Stepfather! Konig fic and I had just an idea. What if to get away and feel at least some safety reader fakes their death and joins the military with many fake names and constantly changes up themself to keep safe and away from König and Horangi?

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, military, recruitment, enlisting, military inaccuracies, tell me if I missed any.

Where was the best place to hide? The last place they would look, right under their nose. You managed - somehow - to keep your papers a secret from them, you were lucky they dealt with things online on encrypted servers, keeping it as hush-hush as possible. Fortunately, there weren’t many requirements for enlisting, all they had asked was your age, level of education and citizenship, some vague papers about you and that was all. You bode your time, leaning on your freedom when you left the house to hit the gym to get a head start in your training, pack a bit of muscle and get into a tight routine to get used to it before you joined; and buying the few things you’d need to build you stage with the few materials and story you made up. 

You were prepared when the time came, just a week before your training and your body thrummed with adrenaline and anxiety, slowly finishing off your plan. And when the time was right, you struck, vanishing with the car that you drove into the lake, you made sure that it was deep enough to be left untouched until you had at least finished your training. It was a stroke of luck, sheer luck that you made it to the base, flashing your papers and given a permit to meet the major of the base to receive your identification once you passed the examinations and interview. 

“Welcome to hell, cadet!” Were the first words you heard in the mass, dressed in the black and white uniform of the navy you stood ramrod with others beside you. 

They separated men and women in the early stages of training, once the selections were done, they’d mix both sex and leave them to train and learn together. It was a gruelling process, the physical and mental exhaustion of it all almost made you crash more than once, mind on the brink of frustration and muscles worn into painful bruises. You’d seen friends - made through nights of venting and moaning about life - and acquaintances quit early or halfway through the training and education. They were weeding out the weaker ones, the less competent and determined from the rest. You feared being picked of quitting, but you powered through it, all your blood, sweat and tears culminated to your graduation nearly eleven weeks later. 

You could stand with pride in yourself, head held high as you received your praises from the major, his rough voice echoing through the room in congratulations. You took your oaths and were given a white uniform and a hat, the black cap and gold encrusted hat that gleamed under the sun. You were proud; you were happy; you felt accomplished and free. You thought of flying, to be and feel as free as the birds that soar the skies, perhaps you’d join the aviation branch of the Navy. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea, to be moved and passed around wherever you were needed, never staying in one place made finding you much harder if König and Horangi found your bluff. 

But you’d gone so far, done so much to take things back or be taken back. You’d accomplished something with what little you had and you knew- You knew that your mother would be so proud of you for persevering. 

“I miss you, mom,” you kissed the sole picture of your mother, the only thing you thought worth keeping, “I’m sorry, I miss you.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess @maylovesyousomuch @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[cannibalisation]

i. not a lot, just forever

poly wolfstar/fem!reader

it doesn’t take much to keep yourself safe, yet it is still a challenging task for most. surrounding yourself with those who maintain warmth seems to do the trick, luckily you have remus and sirius, and they have you. (3.4k)

caution. injuries following lycan transformations, remus uses a walking cane, mentions of sirius’ family, gore/blood(?), bullying, reader has a bird animagi form.

i’m new to the marauders fandom and have limited knowledge, sorry for any character inaccuracies.

sewn together. 

ONE of the window latches in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory was broken. Fortunately, it’s the window right by Remus’s bed. A playful mishap between the group of them caused a book to go flying at it, shattering one of the glass panels. The window was repaired with a spell Peter had cast, but he was never able to mend the bolt. That's what makes it easy to sneak in when it’s past curfew. 

Remus lies atop the covers tonight; he only managed to shuffle the pants of his nightwear on. The plaid shirt was thrown haphazardly on the crest of his bed frame. Faint lines of gauze wrapped around his torso are visible beneath his chalk-white polo shirt. They’re stained with a muffled red; he must’ve bled quite heavily. 

The matron healer did an exquisite job as per usual. Neat fastenings of bandages; his wounds were clean. Though you would’ve preferred if Madam Pomfrey tried a little bit harder to convince Remus to stay the night in the hospital wing. 

This month's full moon was one of the hardest for some reason; you have an inkling that your presence was a contributing factor. Remus usually insists that you should stay far away from him when he changes, and he didn't even intend on revealing his lycanthropy, but Sirius persuaded him to change his mind. 

As soon as the truth came to light about his furry friend, you immediately urged him to let you help—in any way possible. The two of them were very strict regarding the routine, and in turn, you were very understanding. Sirius had been extremely reliant on your aerodynamic abilities, as your Animagus form held avian qualities. 

Remus was still on the fence about it, but with a few honeyed words and gentle (manipulative more so) kisses from you and Sirius, he was convinced. The transformation process created significant agitation, which only increased in intensity over the course of the week. 

He was clearly more possessive than usual, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't entertaining. Neither you nor Sirius complained about Remus's insatiable want for affection; the two of you were never to be out of his sight. It was especially difficult during the day due to your separate schedules; after supper, you were confined to his dorm room. 

It was abnormal for the quiet boy you’ve grown to love to act in such a way. More often than not, it was more common for Sirius to act like this, treating public displays of affection like he would a new toy he got for Christmas. That’s what was most likeable about him; he was irrevocably himself. Remus was the opposite; they both stabilised one another nicely. 

Often it was like you were intruding, that you didn’t fit in as well as they did. A whiff of these thoughts, and they were quick to dismiss any negative feelings, and that was greatly appreciated. A balanced scale needs its anchor after all. 

Much to your delight, James and Peter did not make themselves at home in the boys dorm—they must’ve both been warming someone’s bed tonight. 

You have a vague idea of where James might be, but Peter leaves you in mystery. For all you know, he could be sneaking around with a Slytherin or two; that sounds like something he’d do anyway. 

Sirius is curled up in his own bed opposite Remus’. He watches with a soft look as you sit yourself down beside the injured boy. Much to your dismay, he had stayed in such a position as you attempted to crawl through the open window, chuckling quietly to himself at your struggles. 

Remus shivers as your hand brushes his mousy-brown curls before settling against it. How soft he looks when he’s like this. 

“He’s been asking for you in his sleep.” Sirius whispers, toying with the chequered quilt he lays beneath. You give Remus a once-over before looking back at the other boy. Sirius smiles lightly when that happens and pulls back the blanket so it sits just above his ribs. 

An invitation; he wants you to join him in his bed. And you desperately want to, but Remus needs you. Amidst his sleep, he blindly searches for your hand, and you comply by locking your fingers with his. 

The small tick in his brow soothes over, and he hums contentedly when you brush your forefinger against his palm. 

“He’s been saying your name.”

Your free hand finds purpose in Remus’ hair once more. “Cute, does he say yours?”

“No. I think it’s because he knows I’m here already. Perhaps I’ll ask him when he wakes up.” He taunts. Locking eyes again, you give him a humoured glare in disappointment. Of course he’d tease Remus about mindless sleep talks. 

One time, in a fit of anger, you had cast a spell in the general direction of Severus Snape (he had spoken ill of a fellow house member; what else were you supposed to do?). The dunce had managed to move out of the way just in time, causing the spell to hit Professor Flitwick. 

With a fresh pair of stag antlers perched on his head, the professor took away fifteen points from Gryffindor. It was a brief reprimand; still, Sirius has yet to let you live it down. He still makes jokes about it with James to this day. 

“I beg to differ.” Remus interrupts; he must’ve been awoken by the playful conversation. “I just don’t really like you.” He jokes, grazing his nimble fingers along the surface of your linked hands. 

Sirius scoffs before tugging at his blanket, pulling it up over his head so he can hide beneath it. “That is a lie; you love me, Moons.” His voice is muffled from underneath the quilt. 

Chuckling quietly, you continue to brush through Remus’ hair. He had always been appreciative of such services; often you could be found with your hands perched in his curls. 

Sirius instead preferred when you played with his hands. Fiddling with the brass and silver rings that decorate his lithe fingers always makes his heart grow fonder. 

You were prone to favouring back scratches, but you’d never tell them that. 

You lean downwards and press a small kiss to his forehead. “How are you feeling?” 

“Much better now. The madam gave me a Calming Draught and then I fell asleep.” He said slowly, observing you with a loving look that would make anyone’s heartbeat stutter. “What about you? Didn’t frighten you too much, did I?” You shake your head; he could never scare you. 

From the corner of your eye, you see Sirius rolling around in his bedsheets. With an exaggerated huff, he throws the covers off and flicks at his hair with one hand. He must be bothered by the lack of attention from the both of you. 

He turns his head and squints at you with faux anger, and you have half the mind to laugh in his face. Not a good idea, though; it would probably make him more annoying. 

Then he leaps from the confines of his bed with such haste it makes Remus flinch. He rolls from his bed and lands on the rugged ground. He continues to roll over until he reaches the foot of Remus’ bed. Now the whole room is lightened with soft laughter. Remus decides to stick out his free hand to dangle it over the edge of the bed. 

Like a dog with a bone, Sirius grabs a hold of it and entwines his fingers with Remus’. 

Every full moon will be hard; Remus knows that much. The process will never get easier to recover from; it will always eat at him. But so long as he has the two of you with him, he might be okay. 

bears the weather

Winter break was never easy for Sirius Black. Normally, he’d choose to stay on school grounds for the holidays. You’d often stay too, out of solidarity, and Remus would always bring treats back from his family home in Wales. 

This year, though, Sirius had been owled a letter from his mother, instructing him to come home over the break. 

He didn’t want to, that much you could tell. Sirius did not cry when he said that he would not be at Hogwarts for this year's Christmas holiday, but his eyes did gloss over, and his voice was terribly shaky. 

He became dismissive throughout the last week of classes; you were not able to comfort him in the way you had hoped to—for how are you to comfort a boy unloved?

He didn’t contribute to many conversations on the train ride back to King’s Cross Station; Remus had told you not to worry, but even he looked dejected. 

Sirius had briefly embraced you and Remus and claimed that he would write to the both of you. With a forlorn gaze, you watched as he and his younger brother made their way from the platform. 

A total of three letters, marked with the wax sigil of House Black, were delivered to your doorstep. How fitting that the owl that did so was ebony in feathers, a clear indicator of its keeper. The beast had tried biting at your fingers when it let go of the envelope. 

On the contrary, fourteen letters with Remus’ name smudged on the top were sent to your house by post. 

There were a couple of days during the winter break when you met up with Remus and some of your mutual friends. You had a joyous time ice-skating and drinking hot chocolate on Christmas Eve. An invite was sent to Sirius on both of your parts, but much to your grief, he did not show. It was lovely seeing and spending time with Remus, but it was clear that the both of you felt as if something was missing. 

Before you knew it, school was back, so were the uniforms and casted spells. The spring term always went by quickly, though the tension between the three of you was stifling. Sirius had been cold for the first week back; it was like the winter weather had made its home in his form. 

Though he gradually warmed up, there was something unusual about it. A strain in his shoulders or a furrow in his brow that had yet to settle, even when he slept. It ate at your heart that you couldn’t seem to figure out how to help him. Others were starting to notice too.

“Hey, is Pads doing alright?” 

Lily Evans, ever the gentle soul. It comes as no surprise that she was worried. You pause at her question, inked quill hovering over the smudged parchment. 

“He’s fine. I suppose.”

“Have you spoken to him much? I’ve only ever seen him at dinner time or in class.” 

You shake your head quietly and keep your gaze fixed on the paper. She is right after all. Sirius spends most of his time holed up in the dorm room, and no, you haven’t really had the chance to speak with him. Most of the time he’d be right with you now. In the library, studying for exams—or more so distracting you from studying. 

He isn’t, though; today it's just you and Lily sitting at a lone table in an alcove, hidden behind the many towering shelves of books. 

Although you can’t see it from where your gaze is fixed, the inquiring gaze of Lily Evans is harsh against your neck. 

“It’s just—” you start, strangling the feather quill with vigour. “I don’t know what to say. He’s struggling, that's clear, but I don’t know how to help him.” Such a stuttered confession makes you feel sick to your stomach. It’s something to do with Lily’s ambience that makes you go soft. She smiles delicately at your apparent demise. 

“Maybe you don’t need to say anything? Just let him know, in any way you can, that you're there. For him.” 

“You’d serve as a mighty fine therapist if this witch thing doesn’t work out for you, Lilyflower.” You mutter with a half-hearted smile. The russet-haired girl only hums with a small grin and turns back to her own parchment. “You’re lucky I’m not charging you for my wise words of wisdom.” 

You ponder Lily’s words on the lone journey back to the Gryffindor common room. 

Sirius Black was not a fragile individual, a quality that is quick to be learned. He was undeniably a brave soul; he didn’t let much get to him. The topic of his family, the noble and most ancient house of Black, was an arduous one; he could hardly speak their names without choking up. You and Remus knew this well and made sure not to bring them or even your own families up in conversation. 

It was a good few years ago that you had first been acquainted with Walburga Black. It was a short introduction when you were in your youthful age, therefore, you don’t remember much. Regardless, even in your earliest of life, did you realise that she wasn’t the kindest of people. Her eyes had frightened you the most, beady and almost pitch-black. They scanned over you like a predatory animal would when it spots its prey. 

That moment was all it took to notice the animosity she held for most. Sirius’ eyes were similar in colour, but they were so much more gentle. 

When Remus told you that he had never met Sirius' family before, you promised yourself that if you could, you would protect him from them and any other pure-blood zealot. 

Your eyes lock with James Potter’s as soon as you walk in through the portrait door. Somehow he is all-knowing and nods his head in the direction of the stairs leading up to the boys dorm rooms. Nodding back to him in gratitude, you make your way up the creaky steps posthaste. 

Remus is sitting upright on his twin-sized bed, watching over a curled-up Sirius. He glances up at you with melancholic eyes and gives you a small smile. 

You approach Sirius' bed quietly and take in the pile of blankets and pillows there. He observes as you sit down next to Remus, having only his face visible from underneath. To your delight, Sirius appears to be more content than he has been in a long time. His head rests on one of the cushions, his dark curls strewn about. You gently hush him when he stirs under the warmth of the covers.  

“It’s okay,” you murmur, leaning your head on Remus’ shoulder. “I’m here.”

Yes, Sirius thinks. You’re here.

sheds her feather

Muggles would never know the true rapture of flying. Sure, they could board a plane and take to the skies—but it would never feel the same as spreading your wings in the breeze. 

Each sliver of wind could be felt in your feathers, urging you to go faster, higher, forever. Though you’d never say it aloud, you’ve thought on many occasions to just spend the rest of your life in the sky.

You’ve always been a curious child. At least that's what Mother had believed, especially since you had snatched a coin purse from someone as a child and given it to her when you heard her gripe about money on the phone. She had been horrified and gave you a slap on the wrist in return. 

Her reaction did not ail you; often your closest companions are gifted something shiny in appearance.

Sirius was ecstatic when he was gifted an argentate ring engraved with a wolf signet, and Remus embraced you warmly with a soft kiss when you handed him a sterling silver novella bookmark—it had a small etching of a dove bird on it; you thought he’d appreciate it most. 

In a hasty manoeuvre, you land on a railing of the Astronomy Tower. With a ruffle of midnight-black feathers, it returns you to your natural form. 

The transformations have gotten much better than what they were originally. The first time you ever attempted it, you crashed into a tree and broke your wrist. That hadn’t been an easy one to explain to Madam Pomfrey. 

A shot of pain saddles up your leg, causing you to gasp loudly in shock and crumble to the floor. 

It was foolish to assume the flimsy bandaging you had done was adequate enough to halt the bleeding. 

The linen wrapped around your leg was stained with a bright crimson, nothing too bad to worry the nurses about it though. 

The most recent Quidditch game was won by Gryffindor; the losing team, Slytherin, was obviously not pleased with the results. A group of students had managed to corner you right after classes had finished for the day, and they must've been searching around for something to burn their energy off on. Unfortunately, that just happened to be you.

The Diffindo charm was not often used out of malice, but that didn’t seem to stop this particular Slytherin boy. The slash was embedded deep enough into the skin of your leg, causing a significant amount of blood. The cruel group of seventh-years draped in green ran off before you could react properly.

As luck would have it, you managed to sneak into the hospital wing undetected and quietly bandage yourself up. A clatter of objects from behind a curtain had spooked you enough into transforming and flying out an open window. 

The pain in your leg had majorly subsided whilst in Animagi form; perhaps the wind has healing properties. 

But now as you were crouched over in the tower, it’s clear that is not the truth of it.

A clamour of footsteps sounds out in the winding tower, and you attempt to transform again. To no avail, as the pain is too much to bear, so instead you brush back your uniform skirt as it had ridden up. 

Sirius makes himself present with a whistle; Remus shakes his head as he trails after him. The wooden cane that he’s taken recent use to creaking under his form. 

“We saw you flying overhead when we were walking back from Herbology.” Sirius confirms with a grunt as he sits down cross-legged. It was common for you to take off from the tower as it was the highest point in Hogwarts and generated the most adrenaline.

“Thought we could beat you here, but no, you’re just too fast!” He praises. 

Remus manages to sit down as well, without any help. You nod in compliment, trying to mask the pain in your leg. Sirius doesn’t notice the way your face screws up as he drones on about class, but like always, Remus does—probably some weird werewolf gene. 

“You alright, love?” He intervenes, Sirius stops talking for a moment. A hum leaves your throat; a bit too enthusiastically. Words are not reliable right now. 

Remus is clearly unconvinced, and Sirius casts a suspicious look your way. With a sigh of defeat, your hands grip the edge of the skirt and lift it slightly, just to show the dribbles of dried blood on your leg. Sirius’ breath hitches in his throat, and Remus looks at the scene with growing exasperation.

“What—Who did this to you?” Demanded Sirius as he moved to pull higher at your skirt. “No one, nothing, I mean. I just—” You start, but Sirius continues on.

“Don’t lie to me; you’re not this clumsy.” A laugh escapes you, but even that brings a twinge of pain. Remus shuffles through his leather satchel that holds his study books. 

He’s had to get a lot more creative regarding how he routines his life, now that he has to walk with an aid. Sirius was more than kind enough to gift him the costly satchel, much to Remus’ humbleness. 

He pulls out a roll of gauze, and you can’t help but grace him with a lukewarm smile. Always the caretaker he is, Remus Lupin. 

Sirius grabs the roll at breakneck speed and huffs drearily as he unravels your previous work. “You need to go to Poppy; I can’t do very well with this.”

Shaking your head in quiet disagreement, you watched as he wrapped fresh gauze around your leg. 

Remus leans over and brushes one of his forefingers against your cheek. With a soft pout, you cast a shy gaze at him from beneath your eyelashes. His eyes are always so soft when he looks at you. 

Sirius always teases him for it but gets equally as giddy whenever Remus gives the same look to him. He acts indifferent to it all the time, but there is no denying that his eyes are any less mellow.

He finishes by tying the fabric into a knot at the innermost point of the thigh, warmth rising to your face at the closeness.

“Going to let us help you now?” Remus asks. It’s a rhetorical question but you still search for an answer. Regardless, you nod your head at the question.

They can help you, always.

[vixnarts]

Sorry that I haven’t been posting on Tumblr. I’m not active on here because the platform isn’t my favorite. But since I’m hated by the dragon artist community in the HTTYD fandom on Instagram. I’m going to post my drawing here. I’ll come back to posting more of the creepypasta proxy x supernatural AU soon. Now without further ado, let’s start off with my opinions on both Httyd movies.

HEADS UP: if you do not like these opinions about the third movie, please do not attack me or anyone else that agrees. I will block (depending on the comment) or delete the negative comments.

Toothless (THW): There were so many things with this movie that pissed me off, starting off with Toothless himself. He stood out like a sore thumb. His design is atrocious with the squished eyes and the eyebrows. The few things that were good were the Deathgrippers and when Toothless was angry. That’s it. Also the light fury was shit and she looked like a condom. Anyways, Toothless was butchered so bad in this movie. He was a slobbery horny fuck and made out with his own shadow. He was disgusting to the Light fury (Thanks for smacking him in that scene when Toothless was being a creep doing those tropical bird dances). Now with his markings, they’re vaguely there. When he’s flying you can kinda see em but not really. Aside from the deathgrippers and Toothless’s angered expressions, the entire movie was shit. And DO NOT get me started with the light fury and those ugly ass looking night light things. I preferred the old storyboard where Toothless was reunited with a pack of night furies and Drago returned. Don’t believe me? Look it up. Side note: I also liked the soundtrack of this movie. With this atrocious movie, it’s like DreamWorks took away all Toothless mysterious aspects and made him act like a rubbery mutt (no offense to dogs, dogs are way smarter than what DreamWorks did to Toothless)

HTTYD (2010): Oh boy, I loved this movie since childhood. The animation, the dragons actually looked intimidating, and my favorite of all Toothless. I loved him, his design especially. He actually scared me as a kid while watching this on DVD. Toothless in the first film was by far the best (as well as HTTYD2 Toothless, tho I like the first movie better) he was sassy, protective of hiccup even when Astrid was gonna attack. What I loved about Toothless’s design was his tiger shark leopard print markings and that he acted like a cat. I loved the way he moved in flight and walking. Another thing on what I loved about Toothless was that he was actually mysterious and unknown. No one never knew about his species it was all unknown. It would’ve been cool if DreamWorks added the concept light furies in the movie. That would be dope.

[impishjesters]

Siri? No. Rambley! (Ch 1?)

ship: Rambley x Reader relationship: can be read platonically or romantically note(s): I fudged over a bunch of tech jargon cause I'm too stupid for that stuff and who cares it's fan fiction anyways! The reader has no gender or pronouns used. A/N: So I may or may not be working on a lil AU/series for this whole idea~

“Are you sure that’ll work?”

Rambley leans impossibly closer to the screen as if it would help him see over your shoulder. “Uh-huh! Or well, I don’t see why it wouldn’t?” He leaned away from the screen and you finally met his gaze. “Just copy everything of importance to the drive and plug me in!”

It feels unrealistic and far too easy to just copy what makes Rambley well, Rambley and he’ll suddenly come to life on the cheap laptop. “If you say so, just… if something feels wrong, stop me okay?”

The digital raccoon paused his happy dance and stared at you before shooting you a thumbs-up. “A little silly if you ask me, but okay!” He placed his hands together and rested his chin on them, watching you intently.

You’re not a rocket scientist, so it doesn’t take much for you to get stumped on what’s considered “important” to keeping Rambley alive so to speak. Rambley watched on the monitor behind you, tail waving rhythmically behind him as he hummed and guided you to what folders were important, etc.

After about an hour you’ve properly copied everything needed onto the laptop. The digital raccoon lets out an exhausted sigh—like he did all the hard work—and looks at you. “That should be everything! Now plug the laptop into the console and I’ll see if I can hop over!”

Rambley is unphased by your deadpan stare aimed at him after his silly joke and focuses on the laptop. “Plug it in! Plug it in!” he chanted.

“Alright little bunny, hold your horses.”

He stopped his chants and looked at you with a smug expression. “Horses you say?”

“Shush. I’m working.”

Rambley rests his chin on his hands, tail swaying behind him again. “Nu-huh~ You just need to plug me in and—”

With ease you connect the laptop to a nearby computer, and despite the fear that this old worn-out technology might fry the laptop and the realistic factor that this probably isn’t how this whole thing works. You plug the laptop into Rambley’s system.

The monitor Rambley was on flickered and distorted, his raccoon avatar glitching frantically. “O-ooooOooOoOoooOOOOo… that feels funny!”

“Like… a bad funny or? Should I unplug it??” You ask worryingly, he’s never been this buggy before.

“NO! DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!” His voice distorts causing you to flinch at the volume before his screen altogether goes black.

Almost immediately your eyes are drawn to the laptop, watching the now black screen glitching out. The longer the silence grows the deeper the worry bubbles in your stomach. Did you somehow…kill him?

After several minutes of sitting and waiting the screen flickers to life, a bright white before Rambley’s face pops on screen looking comically confused, cheesy tweeting birds flying around his head. “Woah… that felt funny…”

Rambley’s voice echoes behind you instead of from the laptop. Looking back at the monitor you quickly notice it’s still Rambley but without the silly chirping birds around his head. Gaze flickering between the two copies of Rambley you push your chair back from the desk in confusion. “Uh, what’s happening?”

The Rambley on the monitor looks between you and the laptop. “Well, I managed to upload and copy part of myself onto it!” When your expression doesn’t change from confusion he settles on a more simplified answer. “I’m both here and on the laptop.”

The Rambley on your laptop finally snaps out of it and perks up seeing you and his own self on the bigger monitor. “It worked!”

“Wait,” you ignore the laptop Rambley and stare at the monitor. “You’re in both at the same time? Isn’t that… confusing?”

Rambley laughs and pats his screen like he would giving someone a head pat. “The laptop isn’t big or strong enough for all of me. So I was able to take a piece of me and put it on the laptop.” He explains. “So as long as you’re able to keep the laptop connected via a Wi-Fi or internet connection, I can freely switch between the two!”

The monitor shuts off and Rambley waves his hands excitedly on the laptop. “This means that while I can’t leave the park entirely, I can easily connect to the laptop via the internet!” He pauses and crosses his arms, tapping his chin curiously. “I wonder if it would work on your phone too?”

Feeling overwhelmed from all the information you rub at your temples and adjust in the uncomfortable chair. “How about we leave that for a different time Rambles?”

Rambley perks up at the name and nods his head. “Oh, of course! It’s getting late now, you—or rather we— should go home!” He giggles at the mention of home with a level of excitement you don’t think you’ve ever seen.

You grab the laptop bag and unplug the laptop from the monitor, tucking it away in the bag, and finally look at Rambley. “I’ll have to close the laptop Rambles. But as soon as I get home, I’ll open the laptop up for you okay?”

His shoulders slump at the mention of closing the laptop, and instead of trying to argue about keeping it open for him to see everything he simply nods with a pout.

You gently pet the top of your screen near the webcam and smile at him. “It won’t take long sweetie, the second I get inside I’ll open the laptop. I’ll even show you around my—our place.” You quickly correct yourself, and it’s worth it to see Rambley’s entire self perk back up in excitement.

“Okay! Be safe!” Rambley disappears from the laptop screen and pops up on the monitor nearby again. “I’ll wait here, and as soon as I sense a stable connection I’ll pop over!”

You have questions on how exactly he’s able to hop between the two despite the distance, but that’s a whole event for another time.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon Rambles.” You kiss your fingers and place them on his monitor before packing up the laptop and making your way out of the park, holding the laptop like it carries the most prized possession in the universe.

And it did, it carried your Rambles.

[prophetszendo]

How the birds fly (Pt. 1)

Content warning: attempted suicide, very negative thoughts. Only read if you are in the right mindset

Summary: the adventuring life took a toll on you, and you face your feelings on a nightly walk

Pairing: Astarion/you (no use of pronouns or y/n)

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: hurt/comfort, kissing, I guess fluff?, I am horrible at tagging please forgive me

About the dialogs: they are in two different "-marks, because my program uses my native language as default. And as I'm not a native speaker, feel free to point out typos, or simply weird sentences. I aim to be better with English.

It was a very long day. You finally made camp after walking for half a day, defending yourselves against an ambush, then gettinf lost in some woods. You ended up in a clearing, somewhere up in a mountain. You were not even sure anymore that you were heading to the right direction.

Setting up camp always came with it’s duties. One of it was collecting wood for a fire so someone can make the only meal you usually eat a day. Today, you were on wood and branch duty. As if it wasn’t me nearly always – you thought to yourself. Everyone clearly preferred not doing it. It was a long task and if unsuccesful, the bearer could be blamed. They didn’t went far enough, didn’t look hard enough.

Of course, everyone was on edge by now. The tadpoles in your head, the waiting, the constant danger looming over all of you created this snappy and sarcastic environment. They never really meant any of it, it was just a way to let off some steam.

You tried to not think about any of it while you picked up another piece of wood. Somewhere in the distance you heard some birds rustling, chirping, and then flying away. You tried to look through the trees surrounding you to see their siluettes in the dawn, but they were far away.

Once you deemed you had enough wood, you headed back. You heard the camp from far away. Your companions talked loudly, as if they were in a tavern, not on some mountain in the middle of nowhere.

This used to make you smile. You used to think there was at least once place you could remotely call warm and home. Right now it just felt distant.

„I’m back” you announced. Your companions looked up in sync, and in agreement, they took all of it from you and started making a fire to cook. Everyone, except Astarion.

He had this game with you. Sometimes he gave you attention, and other times, like this, as if you were thin air. Which you probably wouldn’t have cared about that much, if only you didn’t have feelings for him for a time now. When he gave you his attention, it was simply heavenly. Great flirtatous talks, teasing words, maybe a few stolen moments alone, or a drink for him, from you. They were cherished by you.

You sighed as you sat down, watching the others get lost in the chaos of collecting the ingredients for dinner.

Gods, you felt alone.

Later, when it was already late at night, you lied in your tent, wide awake. You were exhausted, yet dreams evaded you. Maybe for the better – you thought to yourself. Since the tadpoles, they were confusing, and you couldn’t get the proper rest and awoke feeling tried.

You decided to take a walk. Maybe moving around could make you a bit more sleepy. You decided to take the same route you used for collecting wood. At least you had an idea where you were there, and where was camp.

It was a very clear night, the moon was also full and shining bright. So bright, that it nearly dimmed all of the stars.

You zoned out while walking. When you came to, you noticed a cliff. You decided to take a rest there, and using what light tbe moon provides to just sit and watch.

There was a branch conveniently a few meters from the edge of the cliff.

In the distance, you heard and owl making noise. The next moment, it flew above you, and into the horizon.

You always wanted to fly. It seemed so free. From everything. Let it be the ground that was under you, or the burden of everyday life.

Not that you had a big burden back in Baldur’s Gate. It was the opposite, really. Everyday was the same. It grew dull overtime. Yet you couldn’t find anything motivating enough to change it. You were prepared to grow old, doing the same thing. You also had trouble bonding with people there. Not that you didn’t try, the friendships just always seemed to wither away with time. And the tavern buddies slowly all stopped showing up, until you were sitting by yourself, drinking some cheap ale.

Originally you thought of this tadpole event to be the push you needed to finally change your life around for the better. Learn new skills, like how to set up camp, survive on your own, decide which berry is edible. Make great friends for life – if you make it out alive. You were positive at the start that you would. You took on every challenge, helped every person that came your way, moved every rock to find a cure.

The others started to see you as their leader. It made you happy, gave you a purpose.

Until it became too much. You had to make the hard choices: who to side with? Which lead to follow? Kill someone and be sure they won’t spill your plan to the enemy, or let them live and be hopeful that they will be true to their promise?

It didn’t help that everyone had opinions, which they didn’t hesitate to share. And someone always disapproved, and it was on you.

And seemingly only you had nothing personal to solve. Everyone had a life, a purpose, a big enemy, an end goal. A reason to get the tadpole out. What waited for you after the adventure was just... grey. As it was before.

You sometimes wished this adventure would never end. You liked being around everyone. Karlach’s happy demeanor, how she seemed to be excitied for everything. Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s conflicts did bring some tension, but it always turned out well in the end. Gale and his magical hunger made you slightly amused: who actually eats boots? Not to mention Wyll, Halsin or Volo.

Astarion. Obviously, he was the star of the group. For you, at least. You loved how he liked deception and mocking people. You loved hearing his sweet words, especially when one of those were your name. You loved, when he opened up a little about himself. How life was for him as a spawn. It twisted your heart to hear him struggle, and you tried to help any way you could. Basically blidly following if he had a suggestion, even claiming it was your idea, if the others asked.

You believed your feelings became obvious for the others some time ago. You overheard them talk, then suddenly go silent when they saw you. Your name was whisperes silently along with Astarion’s a few times, but you were never included in those conversations.

You stood up, and took a few steps ahead, while fixing your gaze on the stars. They looked beautiful, like tiny little lanters far in the sky.

Like how the blood splattered from the goblin you killed today.

The image suddenly invaded your mind, and you now all you saw in the sky was bloodshed and violence. You didn’t want to end their life, it seemed pointless. They didn’t even seem so evil, just like a few pawns in the bigger game.

You tried to redirect your thoughts, so you thought about something else. More precisely, someone else. His silverish hair, eyes so sharp, that they see into your soul, his vampire smile he only shows with you.

Usually these pictures comfort you, but how Astarion had been acting lately, you just felt more invisible, even smaller.

Yes, invisible. You found the right word. As if you were hidden behind your responsibilities and decisions. As if your opinions, emotions did not matter anymore. Because you will do all the hard stuff, let it be collecting wood, taking the blame, or deciding to let someone bleed out or end their suffering.

They probably haven’t even noticed just how much you had on your shoulders.

Would they notice if you were gone?

You took a few steps closer to the cliff. You wondered what could be on the bottom. Maybe the river you passed recently? Or was that on the other side? Maybe a few boulders.

The memory of the birds you heard today flashed i ro your mind. You really did want to feel free, like how they were flying away from you.

You stood on the edge. The front of your feet were not even on the ground anymore. The moon didn’t give enough light to see what was on thr bottom. It seemed like a dark pit, that could just swallow you whole.

You felt something cold on your face. You realized that while you were lost in your thoughts, you started crying.

You never faced your raw feelings before. Maybe that’s why. Or because you finally made a decision. One, that would make sure you never ever had to make anymore.

„I always wanted to try flying...” you whispered in front of you, into the abyss.

You closed your eyes, and put your arms out, imitating wings. You shifted your weight, and started to fall forward...

...and with a suddend yank, you fell back, onto something warm.

You were confused, and it took you a few seconds to realize what happened. Sounds slowly made it to your ear, and the little light into your eyes.

„Fuck, dammit, you... No, it’s not your fault, I’m sorry, but shit, I can’t believe... Do you know what you were doing?!”

A voice came from under and behind you. It was rambling, sounding very distraught. Maybe even scared.

You turned around, still a bit lightheaded from the shock of falling backwards. Your eyes met a very familiar pair of scarlet eyes.

Astarion.

He was panting, as if he ran from camp all the way here. But you doubted it, he wouldn’t run after you. Maybe he noticed you were gone?

Suddenly, he hugged you tightly. His fingers dug into you, as if you could just float away anytime from his grasp. He felt warm, which was unusual to you. But truth be told, he never held you like this before.

He struggled breathing. He didn’t need to get air, which just added to the list of strange things happening. Maybe you actually fell and now living in just a fantasy?

But no, you slowly started to hear soft sniffles with the breathing. Astarion was... Sobbing.

„I’m... So, so sorry” he said, making eyecontact again. You noticed tears forming in his eyes.

You were at a loss for words. You finally pieced together what happened. Astarion saved you in the last second, and he was clearly distraught by what happened.

You felt guilty.

„What happened?” Astarion asked with a soft voice. You looked away, not being able to make a sound. You yearned to share your feelings with him, but there seemed to be no proper words to use. Nor a voice to say anything with.

„You... You’re so strong. What happened? What did we... What did I miss?”

The correction in his sentence made you heart flutter and ache at the same time. He clearly was very caring towards you, but you feared it was just one of those times and that it would never last longer than a few days.

„I’m...” you stuttered. Your voice felt like it wasn’t yours. You had to put all your strength into forming just a few words. „...not...strong...”

Astarion looked at you, with immense worry. You couldn’t say more now, and you felt like you couldn’t speak again for a long time.

You tugged on his tadpole, inviting him for a visit in your mind. You previously all agreed in the group, that you give everyone the privacy of their own mind, so you opening a way into yours was unusual.

You gave him a faint smile. You tried to put encouragement into it. He closed his eyes, and stepped through the door into your memories and feelings.

You showed him everything. How life was for you in Baldur’s Gate, and just how miserable you felt. How the initial excitement of this adventure turned into a daily torture of decisions, where there was no right answer, responsibilities which were crushing you, and the constant judgement of others.

You showed him the rollercoaster of feelings his actions caused. The hope you cradled for so much time, the longing you felt for him. The pain you felt everytime it seemed like he was just toying with you.

You shared how ready you were to let things end.

As he experienced your feelings, his arm grew even tighter around you, and he slowly buried his wet face into your neck.

After you showed him everything, he pulled out of your mind. He lifted his head, but only so much that his mouth was to your ear.

„You’re so much stronger than I thought you to be, darling” he whispered. „I never knew you struggled so much. You always seemed so sure, you... You never took any shit. You seemed so brave and determined.”

He gulped, and took a deep breath. He slowly lifted his head fully, to be face to face with you.

„I guess... I never thought about how it affects you. It was so easy following what you say, letting you decide on every crossroad. And it was so easy... Blaming you, if something went south. We... I should’ve stopped to think about you. And how you feel.”

Tears started forming again. He took another shaky breath, and tried to quickly blink them away.

„I always took you for granted. A strong leader, who is always there. And not just there...”

He looked down. You saw a single teardrop sneaking over his cheek. You never saw him this vulnerable before.

„I took you granted in a more... personal way too. Now that I saw myself through your eyes, I understand. Gods, I was such an asshole with you.”

He paused for a moment, as if searching for words. He opened his mouth, but closed it back soon. You sat in silence for a bit. You didn’t mind.

For the first time, you felt seen.

„I was scared of my own feelings” Astarion said suddenly. You sligthly raised your eyebrows, suggesting suprise. His own feelings?

„Yes. The ones I have for you.”

Your stomach filled up with butterflies. Did you hear that correctly? You couldn’t do anything, but blink at him.

„Whenever I realized just how much I care about you, I pushed you away. In my past, caring about someone meant you had another exploitable weak spot. Someone they could hurt to hurt you. And I didn’t want anyone to hurt you. So I pushed you away, since if I’m cold towards you, noone will think anything of you.”

He chuckled a little.

„But I could never keep it up for long. Because I missed you, Gods I missed you so much, even when you were right beside me, covering my back in a battle, sleeping just a few tents away. And yet, I kept missing you so much, it hurt. And now that I see, just how much it hurt you, I regret it so, incredibly much. We could have had sweet stolen moments together, if only I was less stubborn, and looked out for you a little more.”

Astarion looked utterly defeated and sad. You felt the truth in his words, and it was something you only ever dreamed of. You raised your hand to caress his cheek. He gave you one of those vampire smiles that made your knees weak.

He lifted both his hands, and held your face just under your ears. He pulled you closer to himself, and out your foreheads together. It was a very intimate moment.

„I think I fell in love with you” he whispered so silently, you barely heard it. But you did. And it gave your voice back.

„I fell in love with you, too” you said, giving him the first real smile since you were here.

He slowly leaned closer to you. You closed your eyes, and got lost in the moment.

And then... He kissed you.

[ilongfor-the-arts]

Tea and Music

Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut!, language, mild begging, choking, unprotected sex, use of “good girl”

Summary: Part two of Poetry in Motion! These are the events that happen after Marquis meets our ballerina reader.

Word Count: 6.7k

Read Part one HERE!!!

Taglist: @jiawalker

The limo crushed the small stones under its tires as it drove along the white gravel path. The entire estate was completely covered in trees and green once we passed through the golden gates. I couldn't see the sides of the gate from the car, so I assumed his estate extended for miles.

Not a blade of grass was out of place.

I would have flirted with Vincent sooner if I had known he was concealing a mansion.

Our conversation two nights ago was extremely straightforward. He introduced himself, and I asked him one question before he insisted on speaking with me in person.

His address was on a street I'd never heard of before. I thought that perhaps it was in the Paris slums. His fancy suits and elegant demeanor were just a ruse to convince people he was wealthy.

But, alas, he lives in a mansion. Who would’ve guessed?

As the car approached the large front doors, I tried to hide my surprise. His house was something out of a movie. To take it all in, I had to turn my head completely left and right. It possessed at least three levels. It was made of lovely white vintage brick and black shingles. Two poles supported an enormous balcony on opposite sides of the large double front doors.There were dozens of tall arched windows. The architecture was inspired by the French countryside, but it was elevated to the highest level.

It appeared vintage and loved, but not worn.

“Alright madame, we are here.”

My trance was broken by the posh driver.

“Oh, yes.”

He opened the door for me, offering his hand to ensure that I would not be inconvenienced in the slightest.

I could grow accustomed to this type of treatment.

I hoisted myself up by grasping his smooth palm.

“Have a pleasant visit, madame.”

He spoke with a classy accent. His elegance, however, couldn't compete with Vincent's. The elderly driver jumped back into the driver's seat and began bustling away, rocks crunching beneath the tires.

I cocked my head upwards, hesitant. I could feel nerves brewing within my stomach. The butterflies were flying free. I took a deep breath, steadying my mind.

I honed in on the rustling of the trees, waiting until the butterflies had completely dissipated.

I couldn’t believe I was about to enter the home of a man I had just met.

I knew his name.

I knew he liked ballet.

I knew where he lived.

And, that’s it.

I climbed the few steps leading to the glass double doors.

Should I knock?

No, he was expecting me.

I gently pushed open the door. The hinges didn't creak in the least.

The doors opened to reveal a large room with white marble floors and a double staircase that swirled to the top floor. The banisters were made of gold, the dark wood walls were covered in expensive-looking paintings, and each room was separated by a large, open arch.

“Hello? I’m here!”

The waves of my voice echoed around the large, nearly empty room. I felt dwarfed by the high ceilings.

“Welcome.”

my heart skipped a beat. Vincent appeared out of nowhere, sauntering through the archway on my left, hands in pockets.

He remained silent, waiting for me to break the tension.

“Uh-Thank you for having me… your house is beautiful.”

As the gravity of the situation became clear, my tone became somewhat shaky. Vincent gave a small smile.

“Thank you very much. I have quite a few estates-“

Woah, woah, woah. A few estates? As in more than one?

“But this one is by far my favorite. It’s lavish, and quiet.”

The trees gently rustled. In the distance, birds chirped. My heart was pounding in my ears.

“See? Nothing. No sounds except those of nature.”

My knees shook. Those two previous statements felt like one big, blatant sexual innuendo. I hoped that sex wasn't the sole reason for having me in this lovely estate that just so happened to have no neighbors for miles.

He leaned against the wooden arch, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dress pants. Vincent furrowed his brow as he observed my concern.

“Please, don’t be worried. I know I was just given the pleasure of becoming your acquaintance. But, I assure you, I possess a sophisticated character.”

The corners of his mouth turned upwards.

“Come.”

He said this as he stepped away from the arch, motioning for me to follow him into the next room.

“I have something I believe you will enjoy.”

I returned his stare. His beautiful eyes shone with warmth. He seemed to have changed slightly now that I was in his house. He appeared to be... more at ease. Neither his gaze nor his tone indicated any discomfort. He was no longer concerned with maintaining any sort of facade.

I couldn't bring myself to be afraid of him.

I smiled.

“Alright.”

My short heels clacked against the marble. As I strolled past him, I captured his familiar scent and was overcome with nostalgia.

The room I entered was significantly smaller than the one prior. Rather than being adorned in paintings, there was merely one green landscape above the unlit fireplace. One wall was entirely covered in wooden shelves, each of which was crammed to the brim. When I looked closer, I noticed that each section was filled with vinyl records. Some are still wrapped in plastic, while others have clearly been loved for years.

“Oh wow! You have quite the collection!”

I exclaimed as I ran my fingers along the spines of various records. Marquis laughed, amused by my intense interest.

“Oh wow!”

I had to use a surprising amount of force to pry one of the vinyls off the shelf as it was jammed into a completely full rack.

“You have the music from Giselle!”

Vincent strolled over to me, leaning over my shoulder to observe what had captured my attention. It was a record, with a lady and man engaged in dance. The lady wore a blouse and bodice, while the man donned tights and a decorated top.

“Do you enjoy this ballet?”

His hot breath cascaded across my face and neck as he inquired. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized he had placed his frame directly behind mine.

“Yes, I do. I was in it a long time ago. And, ever since it’s been one of my favorites.”

“Ah, you were in it?”

I flipped the vinyl to the back, reading each track and reminiscing.

“Yes, I was Giselle.”

“But of course you were.”

I scoffed, dismissing his high opinions of me.

“It really was not that impressive. It was a small community theater, and it was years ago before I decided to pursue ballet professionally.”

“It makes little difference where you do it. I'm sure you danced as well as someone from the Opéra National de Paris. Your talent is just as visible in a small theater as it is in the world's largest.”

I pushed my finger between two vinyls to create a gap so I could slip the record back into its original position.

“You flatter me.”

Vincent dragged his fingertips along the spines. As he did so, I fixed my attention along his veiny digits, my brain beginning to slip into places it hadn't been in a long time. I closed my eyes, forcing my mind to return to the present. Vincent drew his gaze across the records, studying them and searching for a specific item.

“Ah!”

He discovered what he was looking for.

“Swan Lake, another one of my favorites.”

He pulled it from the shelf and began to study it.

“Tchaikovsky's music is a work of art. He manipulates the instruments, allowing them to move in a poetic manner. It truly is unparalleled.”

He cocked his head to the side, meeting my eyes.

“Do you enjoy this ballet?”

He raised his brows, inviting me to respond. I shuffled towards his hot body, nodding.

“Yes, of course, it’s a classic.”

This cover depicted a woman bending over a lake, with a swan at her side. Beautiful blues were used to paint the entire cover.

“One of my dream roles is the swan queen.”

Vincent's lanky fingers pried the record's cover apart, and he slid the vinyl into his palm.

“One day, that role will be yours. I have no doubt about it.”

He handled the record with extreme grace and care. Despite being a large and rather intimidating man, his touch was featherlight. He opened a small cabinet located in the middle of the shelves with his opposite hand, revealing a beautiful maroon record player.

“And when you appear as the swan queen, it will be your role for the rest of your life. The audience will know instantaneously that no performance before or after yours will compare.”

Vincent placed the needle on the record's edge. The sound of a rich oboe filled the entire room. He placed his hands on his hips and viewed the black circle spin in a circle. The atmosphere became cozy and inviting. Despite being in a secluded mansion in the middle of the French countryside, I felt oddly at home. My heartbeat was regular.

Vincent glanced over his shoulder.

“Do you drink tea?”

He inquired.

I was so enthralled by Vincent's lovely figure that I had to shake myself awake when he spoke.

“Oh! Yes, of course. I love tea.”

Vincent unbuttoned the cuffs of his white dress shirt, rolling his sleeves up to reveal lovely veins dancing across his forearms. I gulped, my face growing hotter as butterflies began to hatch within my lower abdomen.

“Would you care to drink tea with me on the porch as we indulge in this lovely music?”

I nodded, unable to hide the grin playing on the corners of my mouth.

“I would like that very much.”

-

Vincent brought out a large silver tray, atop which was a lovely china set with pink flowers and gold stems.

“I would expect a wealthy man like you to have help. Rich men don’t make their own tea.”

I said, my tone slightly mocking. Vincent chuckled, plopping down onto the cream colored cushions.

“I don't usually make my own tea. But I specifically requested that we spend the day alone. The bustle of people detracts from the peaceful energy.”

I put a sugar cube in one of the adorable cups and poured tea on top, watching the sugar break and dissolve.

I picked up the saucer and leaned back, my body relaxing against the plush cushions. I had a fantastic view. My back was to the house, leaving the entire garden open for inspection. The green stretched as far as the eye could see, interrupted only by a few healthy trees. The property had a gray gravel path that twisted and turned. At the horizon, the gentle hill of the land met the flawless blue sky.

The scenery was lovely. I wish I knew how to paint.

My hair was tousled by a gentle breeze. The soothing music wafted through the house, reaching my ears as a mere whisper.

“Are you enjoying the view?”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, savoring the cozy energy as I sipped my tea. The steaming liquid poured down my throat, warming me from within.

“Yes, it’s beautiful.”

I rested the cup in my lap.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I feel like we talk so much about me.”

I said, chuckling slightly.

Vincent sipped his tea while crossing his legs and gazing out at the horizon. His gorgeous side profile was highlighted by the gentle glow of the sun.

“My life is… not very interesting.”

His demeanor had transformed. Instead of being charming, he had become aloof.

“Oh, I’m sure your life is plenty interesting. I mean, come on, this house is ginormous! What do you do?”

Vincent grit his teeth, avoiding the question.

“I made all of my money in real estate.”

He returned my gaze, his fondness restored.

“Oh! That sounds interesting.”

I took another sip of my delicious tea.

“You must’ve gotten extremely lucky.”

He flashed me a tight smile.

“Yes, absolutely. I consider myself extremely fortunate to be where I am now.”

The birds in the distance chirped peacefully, blending with the music to create a cohesive energy that flowed through my being.

“Please, tell me if I am crossing any boundaries with this question.”

I perked up. He had piqued my interest.

“However, you are a very attractive woman. And you are constantly expressing yourself through the arts. I find it difficult to believe you don't have suitors flocking to you at all times.”

I gulped, my gaze fixed on the tea in my lap.

“Well, honestly, it’s difficult to keep a relationship when you’re constantly either in the theater, or searching for your next opportunity. The little free time I have almost never lines up with the free time of others.”

He fixed his gaze on me, listening intently to every word I said. I'd never had a conversation with a man who was so enthralled by me.

“I’ve had relationships, but it's difficult to make them stick. Lately, I’ve kinda given up. It’s stressful, y’know?”

Vincent hummed.

“Yes, I can imagine.”

He sipped his tea one last time, leaning back completely to display his stunning neck. He leaned forward and placed the china cup atop its saucer before assuming his previous position.

"Well, with me, you never have to worry about that, ma chérie." My few important obligations rarely interfere with my personal life. And, if they do, I promise to commit to our relationship and not let it fall through the cracks."

His dedication surprised me. I raised my brows.

“Well, that is very kind of you. I appreciate the reassurance.”

“That is, if pursuing a relationship with me is something that entices you.”

His statement piqued my interest. I suppose I hadn't considered the question, "What are we?" I was definitely interested in pursuing a relationship with him, despite only having become acquainted a few days ago. I felt a genuine connection, and I'd be a fool to pass up this opportunity.

Also, the reality that he was filthy rich drew me to him.

I finished the sweet tea, placing it on the black wire coffee table.

“Yes, I believe I would be interested in that.”

I gave him a genuine smile, which he returned.

“Good, I am glad to hear that.”

He folded his hands and tucked them into his lap, his gaze following. He was deep in thought, as if caught between reality and his thoughts. Vincent came to after what seemed like an eternity. He returned his gaze to mine. His attention had been drawn to a new emotion. He was looking at me with calculating eyes, as if he was carefully pondering what to say next.

This was unusual for him, as he always seemed to know exactly what to say.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy when I say this, but I have been admiring you for a while.”

To be honest, I didn't mind. And I didn't think he was creepy at all for expressing his admiration for me.

“In all honesty, I’m flattered. The way I see it, I wouldn’t put myself on the stage if I was afraid of extreme admiration. I mean, that is kind of the goal of a performer. Y’know, to make people fall in love with the performance.”

Vincent nodded, his smile widening. He was pleased with my response.

“I recall seeing you perform for the first time. It was about two years ago, in Coppélia. You played a minor role, but your beauty captivated me, and the more I sought you out, the more I fell in love.”

There was something sensual about the thought of Vincent admiring me from afar for years. It all seemed so forbidden, him watching me from a box, carefully calculating the best time to ask me out.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you ask me out sooner?”

Vincent shrugged.

“I assumed you were in a relationship. I tried to forget about you, but you were always on my mind. Then I didn't see you at the Opéra national de Paris for a year. My job was particularly demanding at that time. It was best if I concentrated solely on that. So I didn't go looking for you. I assumed that chapter of my life had come to an end. Then I notice you're performing in La Bayadère. And I knew that whatever force governs our universe had given me the opportunity to become your acquaintance.”

I couldn’t stop my face from breaking into a grin. I’ll admit, it felt insanely good to be admired by someone.

“Are you a nostalgic person?”

Yes, extremely.

“Yes, I am.”

“Ah!”

He exclaimed, rising to his feet.

“In that case, I have one more thing I think you would like to see.”

I followed him through the house. If I didn’t have him, I would undoubtedly be lost. Each lavish hallway felt as if it extended for miles. I followed, and followed, and followed. Until eventually we reached a pair of black double doors. They were covered in beautiful flower designs. Vincent turned the golden knobs, pushing the doors open to reveal… a bedroom?

Wow.

It was a nice bedroom, to be sure. The floors were tan wood, and the walls were a dark brown color. A large, black chandelier hung from the ceiling with an expensive crystal thread. The bedframe, curtains, and dresser with a large mirror all looked like they were plucked from the queen's bedroom.

In fact, the whole place felt like it belonged to a king. The gold accents, intricate details, and visibly expensive fabrics all gave me the impression that I was in Buckingham Palace.

Vincent headed over to his dresser, which was located on the opposite side of the room as the bed. He began rummaging through various objects, searching for something.

“Ah! Here it is! I knew I kept it!”

He gave me... a leaflet? No, it's a program. It was the program from my first performance ever at the Opera Nacional de Paris, Coppélia. My eyes shot open.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you kept this!”

I flipped through it, reading the names and contemplating all the wonderful people I'd had the pleasure of working with.

“Of course I kept it.”

I raised my eyes to him. He smiled, pleased that I had found enjoyment in this little bit of nostalgia.

“Um-”

I began.

“I-I don’t mean to take your memories from you.”

I said with a small laugh.

“But, would you mind if I kept this?”

“But of course! There is no need for me to keep a silly little booklet now that I have had the pleasure of meeting the object of my affection.”

We shared a moment of peaceful, happy silence.

“Besides, if it makes you happy, I'll gladly give it to you. We've decided to pursue a relationship. So, it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to please you.”

His gaze darted to my lips before returning to my eyes, implying something taboo.

His eyes grew dark. My posture became stiff. Vincent took a large step towards me, and I had to tilt my head almost completely backwards to look him in the eyes.

I was hit with a wave of déjà vu. I was no longer on the streets of Paris, but rather in Vincent's bedroom. This time, there was nothing preventing us from delving head first into our desires.

He cupped my cheek, running his calloused thumb over my cheekbone. My breath caught in my throat. My lower abdomen was in knots, more from anticipation than from nerves. There wasn't much that could happen on the dark streets of Paris. But suddenly everything was possible and within reach. All I had to do was reach out and grab them.

“The relationships you’ve been in… have any of them had the pleasure of…”

His voice trailed off, beckoning me to finish the thought.

I gulped, a lump forming in my throat.

“No.”

My voice quivered as I felt overpowered by his pressing gaze.

Vincent tutted crispy.

“Pity.”

He stated, his voice lowering to a sensuous whisper. I envisioned him whispering sweet nothings into my ear while thrusting mercilessly into my tight cunt.

My stomach flipped.

My knees shook.

All of the blood in my body rushed to my core.

Wetness began to pool in my panties.

I adjusted my weight uncomfortably, anticipating Vincent's next move.

He leaned forward, his lips inches away from mine. I desperately wanted to break the tension by pressing my mouth to his, thereby beginning the downward spiral of pleasure. However, my train of thought was derailed when I felt Vincent’s opposite hand glide up my thigh.

I squeezed my eyes shut, sighing in pleasure as his digits swiftly located my clothed clit. He tenderly massaged my sensitive bud. The subtle sensation was utterly euphoric. My head bowed forward, my hands anxiously clutching his white dress shirt.

Vincent jerked my head upwards, forcing my misty eyes to lock with his lust blown pupils.

“You’re already so wet, ma chérie. And I have barely even touched you.”

His velvety accent became 10 times more seductive now that it had fallen an octave.

“Oh, it will be so wonderful to watch you come undone.”

He pressed his plush lips to my jugular, applying gentle kisses to my neck as he continued to draw figure eights onto my clothed clit. I threw my arms around his neck, hanging onto his strong frame as my knees threatened to give out.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to bury my face between your thighs and taste your sweet little cunt.”

I couldn’t handle the erotic tone combined with the featherlight touches to my clit. It was far too much for my touch starved body to handle. needed something. I was ravenous for his mouth, his fingers, his cock. I wanted so badly to be destroyed by him, to be given such pleasure that I fear coming back to reality.

“Vincent.”

I said between heavy breaths.

“Yes ma chérie?”

My jaw hung upon, mouth unable to form coherent sentences.

“P-Please. I need you-I need you so bad.”

Vincent drew back, his lips slamming into mine. Our mouths matched like puzzle pieces. We were so glorious together that I swear I could hear angels singing in perfect harmony.

“What would you like me to do to you ma belle, hm?”

He said in between fiery kisses.

“Make me cum, Vincent, please.”

His tongue slid into my mouth, giving me a fleeting taste of his passion before he quickly yanked it back. I was flustered. Our connection had been severed, and I was unsure as to why.

Vincent grasped my chin, forcing me to keep my head still.

His hair was struggling to remain neat. The single, dangling strand was a great metaphor for his once well-kept demeanor now crumbling before my eyes.

“Beg. Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to make you cum.”

He demanded.

Mt jaw quivered. His hand had retreated from my core and now lay atop the swell of my hip.

“P-Please Vincent. I need you. I need you so bad.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes disapprovingly.

“Oh, ma chérie, I know you can do better than that.”

He placed his lips to mine, swiftly reigniting the flame before suffocating it once more.

“Be my good girl and beg.”

I locked gazes with Vincent, feeling his sexual energy course through my body in waves.

“Please-“

I began, my desire somewhat strangling the words within my throat.

“Please Vincent… Please, I need you to make me cum.”

I brought my palms to his chest, attempting to quickly unbutton his dress shirt. Unfortunately, my hands were far too jittery and the buttons were far too small for me to make any significant progress.

“What exactly do you want ma belle, hm? Tell me.”

His velvety accent wafted through me whenever he spoke, adding to the wetness that had begun to pool in my panties.

“Please, please. I need you.”

Thankfully, the sexual tension had subsided just enough for me to compose meaningful sentences.

“Please, please, I need you. I need your mouth between my legs. I need-I need you to fuck me. I need your cock so bad. Please, please make me cum it’s all I can think about.”

A devious smirk spread across Vincent’s face.

“Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He connected our lips, reigniting the raging fire of desire that burned between us. Vincent hoisted me off the floor, his large hands traveling up my short sundress and resting against my ass. He carried me with ease, his hands gentle but his lips aggressive.

Vincent tossed me onto the bed with little regard for tenderness. However, I was barely impacted by the blow, as the mattress quickly suppressed and conformed to my physique.

I lay, my gaze fixed upwards towards Vincent’s lanky frame. The dim yet sensual lights foregrounded the sharp curvatures of his face. His long digits located his top button and he began to leisurely undo his shirt without breaking eye contact.

Suddenly, I became aware that my dress had ridden up my thighs, exposing my evident desire. I grasped the hem, pushing it downwards in a futile attempt to conceal my yearning. Vincent ceased his movements, crawling over the end of the bedframe with haste.

His hand wrapped around my wrist, pinning my hand above my head.

My eyes darted upwards, the breath hitching in my throat as I perceived his close proximity. Vincent’s previously quintessential appearance was slowly dissolving. A few strands of hair had broken loose from their original location and were now dangling aimlessly above his brow. Furthermore, his shirt was halfway undone, exposing his prominent collarbone and somewhat highlighting his toned chest.

“Don’t cover up for me, ma belle.”

He murmured, his sultry accent sending a wave of desire to my lower abdomen. My cunt throbbed.

“I want nothing more than to see every inch of you.”

Vincent lodged his thigh between my legs, his clothed knee grazing against my hot core. I jolted, a wave of heat coursing through my body. My back arched instinctively, mouth falling open as I involuntarily ground my hips against his thigh in an effort to increase friction.

Unfortunately, he revoked his leg before I was able to procure further pleasure. His free hand followed the soft curve of my side, sending shivers down my spine. My body became cold with anticipation. Goosebumps rose along my skin.

Vincent’s calloused fingertips grazed against my clothed clit. Heat radiated from my wet core as I squeezed my eyes shut. My brow furrowed as he began to slowly draw figure eights onto my clit.

“Ah, you are so wet and I’ve barely even touched you.”

His soft lips connected to my jugular, peppering gentle kisses down my neck.

“I’ve thought about this moment for a long while.”

With his hands required to support his weight as he descended, his powerful clasp released my wrist. I entangled my fingers in his silky hair, further ruining his pristine image.

“Although I pride myself on maintaining a certain level of class, I can’t deny that I’ve often thought about how satisfying it would be to bring you immense pleasure.”

He continued to press his lips against my hot skin, his face now level with my clothed breasts.

Vincent leaned back on his knees. He dragged his eyes up and down my frame, running his tongue across his bottom lip. I suddenly felt small under his gaze.

His tender fingertips located the ball of my ankle, and he hastily removed both of my short heels, tossing them aimlessly to the floor. After he had discarded my shoes, he trailed his large palms upwards, caressing my calves, then my thighs. I watched intently as his veiny hands slipped under the hem of my dress. Vincent hooked a finger in the waistband of my panties, dragging them down my legs at a painfully slow pace.

Once I was fully exposed, he assumed a position between my legs. Thankfully, the bed was grand enough for him to lay comfortably.

All the blood in my body had rushed to my core, and I could feel my heartbeat throbbing vehemently within my lower abdomen.

Vincent trailed his moist lips along my inner thigh, gazing up at me devilishly through his lashes as he did so. He was well aware that his teasing behavior was propelling me into a state of lust filled desperation.

When he established that he had prolonged my suffering enough, he hastily buried his face between my thighs. I gasped, throwing my head back onto the opulent pillows. My thighs instinctively clenched around his head, but Vincent’s strong hands pulled my legs apart to free himself.

He flattened his tongue against my clit, taking his time to draw out his movements so as to not supply me with an orgasm too hastily. He was thoroughly enjoying the elongation of my pleasure.

After a brief moment of supplying delicate sensations to my clit, I felt the tip of his finger prod at my entrance. I threw my hands upwards, grasping onto the bed frame, my knuckles quickly turning white.

“Oh fuck!”

I exclaimed, grinding my hips against his gorgeous face.

“Vincent-Vincent your mouth feels so good, holy shit.”

I spoke in mangled cries, not caring to keep my voice down. After all, there was no one around for miles to be bothered by my proclamations.

His middle two fingers pushed into my entrance, thrusting upwards to stimulate my walls.

“You taste wonderful, ma belle.”

He uttered, continuing to fuck me with his fingers throguhout the duration of his praise. Vincent located my g spot. My nails dug into the bedframe, undoubtedly leaving prominent scratches. He took note of my non verbal cues.

Vincent increased the intensity of his fingers. Quickly, the coil of pleasure began to tighten within my lower abdomen. I bucked my hips against his face, but Vincent quickly stifled my movements by pressing my hips into the mattress.

“Are you close?”

He murmured against my clit. The gentle vibrations set my nerves ablaze with white hot desire.

“Yeah, yeah I’m so close.”

I mumbled, my arms beginning to tremble as I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt my orgasm begin to seep into the corners of my brain.

Vincent’s long digits expertly located my g spot with every thrust.

His warm mouth continued to duck and stimulate my swollen bundle of nerves.

The erotic sounds of his fingers fucking my cunt reverberated loudly throguhout the predominantly empty bedroom.

“Then cum for me, ma chérie.”

His endearing words proved to be the last necessary step in reaching my release. The tension that had built within my stomach exploded as I came gloriously all over his face. My back felt as though it had been rammed into a solid brick wall.

My chest heaved, and I found it arduous to supply my lungs with sufficient oxygen.

My eyelids began to flutter open as the movements of both his tongue and fingers slowed. When he removed his digits and mouth, I was overcome with a glorious sensation of complete satisfaction. Both my mind and body succumbed to bliss. I had never before experienced such an absence of disquiet.

Vincent climbed over me, his torso now bare.

I cracked a small grin, my palms flattening against the expanse of his soft chest. His lips shone with my arousal. I trailed my fingertips slowly downwards, halting when I reached his thick leather belt. I began to undo the buckle, however, Vincent caught wind of my intentions. With one hand, he engulfed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head. I gasped.

“Oh, no, not now.”

His gentle lips tenderly kissed the soft divot behind my ear. I took a deep breath, the scent of his pricey, heavy fragrance clouding my mind.

“I have waited far too long for this moment. It would be foolish of me to allow you to furnish pleasure when my desire has been consuming me for years.”

Vincent moved off of me and stood to remove the remainder of his clothes. With a pleasurable whoosh, he pulled his belt from the loops of his formal pants. Subsequently, he removed his shoes and allowed his trousers to gather about his ankles.

He met my stare, the mellow hue of the faint overhead lights collecting within his green irises.

“You look beautiful.”

Once again, the heat from my body began to travel downwards.

Vincent’s boxers were the final article of clothing to be removed. I gulped audibly, as his sizable cock was now standing fully erect.

Holy shit, I thought to myself.

He possessed one of the most winsome cock I had ever laid eyes on. I clenched my thighs together, my cunt eagerly clenching around nothing.

When he had finished undressing, he climbed back over me and our lips met once again. I melted into the kiss, exhaling sensually as I sunk into the plush mattress. Vincent’s hand grasped the hem of my dress, tugging it upwards until I was forced to raise my arms.

Thankfully, the supportive nature of the outfit allowed me to function in the absence of a bra. As a result, my entire body was now fully exposed for Vincent’s piercing gaze.

He discarded the dress and dropped his hips suggestively until his prominent erection pressed against my lower stomach.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, beckoning him to progress further. Vincent shuffled his hips, tip now dangerously close to my aching cunt. But, before he slipped inside of me, he raised a free hand and tenderly brushed a few unruly strands of hair from my damp forehead.

“If you wish to stop at any moment, merely apprise me and I shall cease.”

I gave him a nod, throwing my arms around his neck to provide an anchor. Vincent pressed his lips to my neck, applying a few gentle kisses before sliding his cock into my wet cunt.

My walls stretched, hastily conforming to his rather large girth. My back arched into his solid torso. I inhaled sharply as he buried the entirety of his length deep within me.

“Are you alright, ma chérie?”

His body stilled. I groaned in mild frustration.

“Y-yeah. I’m more than alright. P-please just fuck me already. I-I need you so bad.”

Vincent pulled back. His lips were plush. His hair was disheveled. His cheeks were a bright shade of pink.

His disarranged appearance was a stark contrast to the previously sophisticated man I had met at the start of this afternoon. However, I do consider the duality of man to be a topic of the utmost enticement. There is something captivating about the notion of commencing a relationship with someone who has a secret side that solely you have the pleasure of becoming acquainted with.

Without further words, Vincent began to roll his hips. The slight pain of his cock quickly dissipated to create room for immense pleasure.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

“Does that feel good? Hm?”

He spoke with a slight vocal fry. The raspiness of his tone elicited a visceral reaction. I dragged my nails along his smooth back, undoubtedly breaking skin.

He grumbled deep within his chest.

When I didn’t answer, Vincent pulled his face back, blown pupils meeting mine. I gazed at him through half lidded eyes. I found it difficult to ignite passionate eye contact when I was presented with the distraction of his cock expertly grazing against my g spot with every fervent jerk of his hips.

He wrapped a large hand around my neck. My pulse rose to the top of my skin as black spots began to cloud my vision.

“Come on, ma belle, be my good girl. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

I exhaled a shuddering breath.

“F-fuck… you feel so good inside me Vincent.”

I gulped.

“Y-your cock feels so good.”

Vincent’s skin began to sheen with a thin layer of perspiration. The unruly strands of brown hair deepened in color as they stuck to his forehead. I moaned pornographically as the grip on my neck constricted once more. My jaw dropped. The brief lack of oxygen only added to the flurry of incoherent thoughts bouncing around my skull.

“Oh, my, you’re such a good girl for me.”

He gulped, a soft sigh escaping his swollen lips.

“You’re taking me so well.”

The erotic words combined with his smooth accent contributed to the tightening of my lower abdomen.

I was close, dangerously close.

I could feel my body reaching the edge, and I would soon fall into a state of euphoria.

Vincent’s adjusted his hips ever so slightly, his tip now reaching deeper than before.

I instinctively turned my head away. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I buried my face into the bed. My brow furrowed. My eyes squeezed shut as I anticipated my release.

Vincent utilized his thumb to reposition my face.

“No, don’t look away. Be my good girl and look me in the eyes.”

I forced my eyelids open, meeting his piercing stare as ever so slightly increased the frequency of his thrusts. Every instinct beckoned me to throw my head back, but I fought the desire. And, I instead kept my eyes fixated on Vincent’s blown pupils that had almost entirely consumed his irises.

“I want to watch you. I want to see your face as you cum all over my cock.”

I gave him a slight nod, indicating that I could hear while trapped in my lustful stupor.

His hand traveled downwards, gently caressing my curves before reaching my swollen clit. Vincent applied gentle pressure, and, with that, I let go.

I kept my eyes fixated on him, allowing my face to contort as it pleased.

Vincent groaned loudly, his cum coating my walls.

He continued to fuck me throguh my orgasm. His movements gradually slowed as the fog of euphoria began to dissipate. My chest rose and collapsed with fervor.

When I deemed it safe to break eye contact, I allowed my eyelids to flutter shut. Suddenly, I became aware of the gravitational pull the bed exerted on my body.

Jesus, I was exhausted.

Vincent removed his cock from my core. However, he remained atop me, tenderly pushing my unkempt hair back to create mild uniformity.

“You may stay here, if you’d like, for however long you wish.”

His voice was as it had been prior to our physical encounter.

I giggled, my mouth breaking into a slight smile.

“Your house is magnificent.”

I met his gaze, his eyes now possessing a tender quality.

“I don’t know if I ever want to leave.”

I said with a scoff.

A smirk played on the corner of his lips.

“Then don’t, stay here for as long as your heart desires.”

[urhoneycombwitch]

howdy, honey!

part I

older!cowboy!Eddie x honey!reader

foreword: idk what this is. other than the start of a new series I may or may not have time for lmao. just… love the idea of honey!Reader and wanted to show the origins of cowboy!Eddie into their life <3 honey!Reader is a bit of an abrasive spitfire but I heart complicated women and Eddie is the right amount of gruff to put up w/ that bratty ass <3 I’m sorry if any truck stuff is wrong I swear I researched a bit but dear god I am not a car girly plz forgive me

cw: Appalachian no magic AU, cowboy!Eddie, older!Eddie, age gap (Eddie is at least 40, R implied as younger), R is on the run from a Troubled Past ™, R has breasts (non-sexual mention) and a tattoo (no skin tone/color mentioned), smut planned for following chapters, as always +18 mdni!

wc: 5.3k

The last thing you want to hear behind you approaches: a vehicle slowing down, tires crunching to crawl at your walking pace in the gravel ditch of the road. 

Maybe it’s just a concerned citizen. You soothe yourself internally, even as your guard surges up to take stock of the environment, to calculate the quickest route to safety. 

To your left- a rusting red pickup, its unknown driver, the flat expanse of tarmac and heat lines rising blearily for miles on end.

To your right, just a sprint away- the line of a lush, thick forest, unfamiliar birds calling amidst the Appalachian wilderness.

Then, an even worse sound of the truck's window being rolled down. 

“Not interested, pal,” you call out, in a tone you hope is commanding. “My thumb ain’t out. Keep driving.”

“I just-” it’s a man’s voice, because of course it is, who else would stop in the middle of an abandoned road to harass a young thing like you- “It’s about a hundred degrees out. Hotter than a two-buck pistol and you’re hiking in it.”

“Mind your damn business.” You don’t know this guy’s angle, but you don’t really care- if there’s anything you’ve learned from the past two weeks on the road, it’s Don’t trust strange men and keep your wits. 

Heart thumping an unsteady rhythm, you swallow the fear and hike your duffle bag higher onto your aching shoulder, resolute, even as the guy sighs. As if he has the right to sound weary. “Darlin’. I don’t wanna see you die of dehydration, is all. Got some water in the back, ‘least let me offload some onto you.”

The offer is tempting enough to still your steps- your canteen is empty, ran out about an hour after being filled at the last town’s hostel. Constant thirst has been an unfortunate side effect of this journey; so far it seems you've been the only one desperate enough to actually be outside in this unrelenting heat.

The man must take your pause for acceptance because he rolls to a stop just ahead of you, brake lights giving one quick flash before the engine cuts out. Both boots hit pavement at the same time, revealing a tall, lanky figure in dark denim and a cut-off tee. 

As he rounds to the trailer bed, you notice a smattering of tattoos- bats flying up one arm, a lariat and a floral piece on the other, some sort of mythological creature sitting over his heart (only spotted as he bends to unhook his truck bed’s latch, shirt shifting forward to reveal a pale expanse of skin beneath).

He’s a confusing, delightful mix of punk and cowboy- jeans just a touch too tight for working, silver hoops lining the shell of his right ear. You’d probably get a better sense of his age if his hair wasn’t hiding in a bun too shadowy to see properly, nestled under the brim of his black cowboy hat.

Eyes dark as bittersweet chocolate but kind and calm turn towards you, observing silently with crossed arms in the ditch a yard away. He closes the gap, wiping his palm on the black bandanna lining his pocket before stretching an appeasing hand towards you. “Waterin’ time.”

A laugh would signal comfortability, and you prefer to keep your cards as close to your own chest as possible, so you smother the noise, turn it into a disapproving twist of your mouth before taking his proffered hand. 

He’s stronger than he looks, pulling you up to the road with an easy flex of his forearm; his other hand automatically fits to your low back to steady you as your pack shifts with the climb, but he drops all points of contact as soon as you’re stabilized.

There’s a thunk from the nearby truck, the sound of something dull hitting into the metal. On instinct, your hand snaps to the butterfly knife tucked into the front of your bra band, hidden by the extra padding but close enough to whip out at a moment's notice. 

A dog sits eager and obedient in the truck bed, black and leggy and long-snouted- some type of Shepherd, if you had to guess. His long feathered tail hits the wheel with each enthusiastic wag, oversized ears perked forward.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. 

Adrenaline leaves you feeling sticky and strung-out, even more than the heat. Between your breasts, the knife sits waiting, metal cool to the touch and reassuring through the fabric of your tanktop. You hope it just looks like you scare easily, hand over your heart with nerves and jumpiness instead of trained defense mode- cards to chest, and all that. 

Safer for you, to be underestimated. Always harder to see a hit coming from someone unexpected. 

This time, though, you aren’t fixing to hit. The back of your hand, like some gravitational force, draws you to the mouth of the truck bed. 

A slash of pink tongue splits the all-black dog’s mouth when he licks you, thumping tailbeat picking up speed. 

The man who owns both truck and dog leans a hip against the wheel, watching as you smooth your palm over the silky head of his companion. “Name’s Goblin.”

“So, your parents were hippies, I gather?” A joke slips out before you can catch and wrestle it back to be the most unassuming version of yourself.

The man laughs- full and rich, crow’s feet bursting like sunbeams, dimples springing into his cheeks- the action knocks a decade off his face. 

You’re transfixed, unable to look away, Goblin nudging your hand for more pets while you memorize the way this stranger looks, laughing on the side of the road in the middle of goddamn nowhere. 

“The dog is Goblin,” the man says, humor twitching at the corners of his plush lips. He takes off his hat to rest against his chest, chocolate eyes still twinkling. “I’m Eddie.”

In the truck bed next to Goblin, there’s a bulky case laying sideways, a handle on one end for carrying. It’s the last push you need, apparently, as the logic part of your mind speaks with finality: Ted Bundy never played guitar. 

So you give Eddie your name. Your real one. You haven’t used it in weeks, opting for anonymity and the comfort of a pseudonym at the seedy spots you’ve been staying.

As soon as you say it, something loosens in your chest, flutters free into the bright blue sky as Eddie repeats it like something precious- like he’s known you for ages. 

“Well.” As if a matter has been settled, Eddie puts his hat back on (you weren’t quite done memorizing the long pattern of his curls, shot through with grey, pulled taut against his skull to settle in a bun at the nape of his neck). “More’n welcome to take the water and send me packin’, but now that we all know each other’s names, how about a lift to town?”

Eddie scratches Goblin behind the ear, absentminded as he adds, “Could even sit in the back, ‘f you wanted. That way you could just jump on out if you think I’m tryna pull something.”

Your shoulder suddenly aches with the weight of your duffel; you let the straps slide to the crook of your elbow, then set it next to Goblin who seems happy for something new to sniff.

Unfortunately for Eddie, you’re starting to like him, which means the filter for your sarcasm and teasing has completely eroded. “Ri-ight. Like I’m gonna just sit in the back of your truck when you could floor it and fling me over the side like a ragdoll.” 

Those big, doey eyes of Eddie’s roll skyward. “You always this stubborn?”

“Only on days that end in Y.” 

“All right.” There’s something in his tone that makes your spine straighten- not from fear, just… something else that you’re trying hard not to analyze right now. “So sit in the damn front and put a seatbelt on, since you’re so worried ‘bout my driving.”

Eddie shuts the pickup’s gate and mutters all the way to the driver’s side door, some comparison being drawn between you and one of his cows that gets herself stuck in the fenceline, refusing sesnsible help. 

The air in the cab is stale and still, warmth from the cracked leather seats soaking into the back of your shorts and bare thighs as you get in and buckle up. You’re suddenly aware of how desperately you need a shower, being in an enclosed space and next to someone with (presumably) a working sense of smell, but luckily Eddie’s already rolling down the windows.

“Air’s broke,” he says by way of apology, waving in the general direction of the AC vents before reaching to open the sliding rear window.

Something cold and wet presses against your ear- Goblin, saying hello. By the time your giggle is over, the grumble of the engine has kicked on, and the dog has found a headrest in the form of your pack, his tongue lolling into the fabric with rhythmic panting. 

“Radio?” You ask, already reaching to twist at the knob on the dash- a crackle of static, and then, bliss. Johnny Cash croons from the speakers. 

In trying to keep your delight casual, you slip up, telling Eddie as he straightens out the wheel to pick up speed- “God, I haven’t heard music this good in months, not since-”

Fortunately, whatever system in your brain still holding on to good sense chops the sentence in half. To cover, you clear your throat, cross your arms, and keep your eyes fixed forward when you change the subject. “So, you play guitar?”

If Eddie notices your lapse he doesn’t comment on it, picking up conversation with an easy charm. “Nah. That’s just a cover for if Sheriff Hop gets me for speedin’. That case is filled with coke and guns and all sorts’a contraband.”

You fix the side of his head with a glare, and even without seeing it full-on Eddie sputters a chuckle and admits, “Fine. I play guitar, sometimes.”

While Eddie’s eyes stay on on the road ahead, you let your own gaze linger on his face in profile: the slope of his nose, the freckles that scatter across the apple of his cheeks and neck, the tail end of another tattoo winding up his collarbone.

Eddie catches you staring, this time, jolt like an electric shock coursing through your whole body when you lock eyes for a moment, before he flicks back to the road. “Looks like you got some ink, yourself.”

He must be doing his best to remain respectful, because he doesn’t ask what the J stands for, even as your other hand jumps instinctually to cover the breadth of your wrist, hiding the little inked letter from view. “Yeah. I get one every time I kill a man. In remembrance.”

Amusement twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth when he asks, “Yeah? Only one so far? Would’a thought you’d be racking up your letters by now. Fierce as you are.”

“Well, we’re in public. I can’t very well take off my shirt to show you all the rest.”

This earns you another laugh, and even with the wind whipping through the cab, it fills every inch of the space. Rattles into you like a thunderstorm, knocks dust off some deep part of you kept dormant ‘til now.

You like that he called you that. Fierce. You’re loath to admit it, but you also like the pet names. Most boys are condescending or double-edged with their diminutives, but when Eddie calls you darlin’ with that Southern drawl, it feels… endearing. 

Equal parts terrifyingly disarming and captivatingly charming. That’s how you’d categorize Eddie, so far, though you’re not sure what to file away about his arms- stretched out at ten and two on the Ford’s big wheel, soft white underbelly of his forearms fading into a natural freckled tan, smattering of dark hair over both. 

For now, you file it under Trouble and focus on the upcoming road sign.

It looks like someone stripped a big tree and cut out a thick middle piece just to drive it at a slant into the ground. The hand-carved words appear to have been painted over many times, discolored and weathered, obscuring some of the letters.

WELC ME TO C LINE

”It’s a nice town, Celine,” Eddie says conversationally as the sign gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. “Small, but good community. Lots of farming folks, like me, some strays and stragglers, like you.”

Johnny Cash gives way to an unfamiliar folksy number; you drink in the ramshackle buildings that make up the heart of the town. It’s reminiscent of old cowboy movies you grew up watching with your brothers- flat roofs, red brick, clapboard. A hitching post outside of a General Store, a group of kids tearing around on bikes in the empty lot of the movie theater. 

All that’s missing is a lone tumbleweed flipping lazily end over end across the road.

Eddie pulls his truck parallel with a stretch of curb outside a long building, another handmade sign that reads Celine Public Library. He leaves the engine running but shifts the gear to park, pointing to the phone booth just beyond your window.

“Phone’s just there, if you got someone to call. Figure’d here’s as good a place as any, if you wanna part ways now.”

Oh, right. Eddie offered you a ride to town, and he made good on it. Now is the part where you get out, collect your duffel, and wave while pretending to make a phone call until his truck has disappeared.

But you don’t. There’s lively guitar plucking over the speakers, twining with the purr of the engine. Eddie’s hands flex and unflex on the wheel, horseshoe tattoo on the first segment of his middle finger rippling with the movement like he’s working up the courage to say something,

You’d better not stick around to hear it. Fighting the thing that’s sticking you to the seat, you reach for the door handle. “Well, thanks, Eddie. ‘Preciate the lift.”

Your fingers are just grazing the handle when Eddie speaks again. “Wait-”

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t-

His eyes are just as beautiful as before, when he’d laughed- and now they’re on you, longing and hopeful and a little unsure as he speaks, gaining speed as if from nerves- “I’ve got a spare room. Spare shack, technically- it’s not much, but I used to live in there real comfortably ‘til my uncle moved and I got the house. Please come stay, at least for the night. Please?”

With a hand still on the door to your other, safer option, you pause; though the main emotion that washes through you is one of relief and gratitude, you sink your teeth into the little flare of irritation, pulling it up to the surface like one last play. “I don’t want charity.”

”Do I look like the church-goin’ type?” A bright flash of Eddie’s teeth as he grins (he knows he’s got you, goddammit). “And the shack door locks from the inside. Deadbolt. In case you’re worried about… I’m not askin’ anything from you. Just- please.”

Your hand drops from the door, falls limply into your lap as you breathe out. “And you’re not in some… weird, cowpoke-Satanic cult where you’re gonna use me as human sacrifice?”

“What part of deadbolt do you not get,” Eddie retorts, pleased, hand at the gear shift. “And my cult only meets on the full moon, so. You’ve got a few weeks of safety, at least.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up out of you, and the smile that Eddie fixes you with would’ve knocked you sideways had you been standing. 

You’re both relishing in the moment too deeply to notice the bicycles approaching from behind; Goblin gives an excited yip, front paws planted on the lip of the truck, wagging up a storm as the group squeals to a halt, surrounding you and Eddie on all sides. 

One of the kids, a boy with a curly mop of hair who looks on the young end of 15, slams a hand down on Eddie’s open window. “Hey!”

Eddie is the one to nearly jump out of his skin this time, hand flying to the top of his hat and cursing. “Fuck. Christ, Henderson. Whaddya want?”

“Do you require our assistance at the market this weekend?” The kid speaks in a funny, oddly formal tone as Eddie sighs and sets his hat on the seat between the two of you. 

“Unfortunately so.” 

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t be like that.” The boy is practically leaning through the window at this point with eagerness, one foot on the ground to keep his bike from tipping. You smother a giggle at the way Eddie’s jaw ticks. “School’s out, we’re bored as hell, and-”

He stops mid sentence when he spies you in the passenger seat, eyebrows jumping up to the curls covering his forehead. “And who might this be?”

“None of your damn business,” Eddie grits out, but you ignore the all-bark-no-bite tone to stretch across and offer your hand in introduction.

“I’m Dustin,” the boy says, in answer to your own name, and rapid-fire points at the various figures loitering around the truck, naming his friends too quickly for you to store them long-term. “Now, Edward, about our payment…”

There’s a girl with red braids near your window, the only one not on a bike. When you give her a friendly smile, she glowers and plants a sneakered foot on her skateboard, rocking it aimlessly up and down the asphalt. 

In the back, Goblin is basking in the attention of the rest of the group; another boy with a close-cropped Afro rubs the dog’s head lovingly, while a girl with serious brown eyes and shoulder-length curls (Eddie’s relative, maybe?) makes tentative strokes down Goblin’s side. 

There are two other kids- boys, you think- near the back of the trailer, but their backs are to the group, close as two people can be while still on their own bikes. Dustin’s conversation floats back into your comprehension- he’s making a valiant attempt at twisting Eddie’s arm where ‘payment’ is concerned.

Untwistable, Eddie shakes his head. A few strands of hair have come loose from his bun, curling around his jaw with the overdramatic move he makes to throw the gear shift into drive. “All right, enough, ya scoundrel. Round up your crew and go be a pain in someone else’s ass.”

Unperturbed, Dustin straightens, grasping his bike’s handlebars with one hand and wrapping a tight fist around the metal of the truck’s side mirror. 

This seems to be some sort of signal, because the rest of the group latches on like some choreographed play- hands, one from each kid, coming up to grip at any free space left on the truck, shoulders hunching forward as if preparing to be shot forth like a rubber band. 

“Damn kids,” Eddie grumbles, but you can hear the fondness in his voice as he lifts his foot from the brake.

The truck lurches forward, and with it, the extra wheels; Goblin’s revved-up barking joins the excited chatter and whooping of the kids hanging on, a joyous cacophony of sound as you all head further down the empty street together.

Eddie picks up speed; there’s a twinge of fear as you watch the speedometer tick up to 10- and then he honks, once, and in perfect synchronicity all the kids let go. Some of them pedal furiously to keep up the momentum, others- like the girl on the skateboard- take advantage of the added speed to simply coast.

Soon enough, their cheerful waves and laughter recede into the distance along with the rest of the town as Eddie keeps his boot on the gas.

The heat in town was dizzying, so you’re relieved when the road dips and bends into the comfort of shade- courtesy of the wild forest flanking either side. 

It’s about a ten minute drive to Munson Farms, and on the way, Eddie tells you all about it. You learn that his Uncle Wayne raised him, taught him how to work and live off the land- when Wayne retired and moved a few miles down the road, Eddie took over.

“Not really a lucrative venture, farming,” he says, trees passing in a blur as he navigates the road curves with ease. “But the end of summer Town Fair pays well, ‘specially for sheep penning demonstrations. Got a couple of dairy cows, chickens that won’t stop laying- between that ‘n Wayne’s orchards, we got more than enough to get us through the winter months.

And then there’s the hives-”

“Bees?” Unable to help the interruption, your head whips in his direction, interest piqued. 

“Yup. Got about six hives right now in the southern pasture. Don’t know much about ‘em, truthfully- got a friend named Chrissy, comes once a week or so to make sure they stay maintained. I mostly just help come harvesting time, and try to stay out of her way for the rest.”

There are about a thousand other questions you want to ask- what kind of bees? Are they near your garden plot to promote pollination? Any bears in the area?- but you tamp down your excitement, settling on a neutral, “Cool,” before looking out the window again.

The sign for Munson Farms is handmade, too, but upkept much better than the one in town- it swings gently in the breeze on metal links as Eddie turns down the adjoining dirt road. About a quarter mile in, you start to see signs of life- fence lines running through the trees and the shush of a nearby water source- and then, a house.

It’s small, probably no more than a bed, bath, and kitchen inside. There’s a red brick chimney separating the straight lines of the blue-painted wood planks, ivy crawling up one side to frame the eastern-facing window. 

On the covered porch, a big, long-haired white dog lifts its head at the sound of the truck pulling in. Goblin gives a greeting bark, practically tripping over his oversized paws to launch out of the truck even as Eddie gripes at him to “Be careful, dammit!”

As you follow Eddie out of the truck and to the porch, the white dog shambles over on a stiff back leg, ignoring the playful jumping and licking Goblin gives in favor of coming up to sniff you. 

“This is Rosie,” Eddie says, patting her greying muzzle with a gentleness that twists something in your stomach. “She’s near older than me, was a great livestock guardian ‘til her age caught up. Been trying to train up Goblin to take her place but between you ‘n me I think his head might be full of rocks.”

As if he’s aware of the insult, Goblin gives an indignant yip and paws at Eddie’s knee; he gets laughed off by the two of you, zipping away with a deep sense of importance into the nearby forest while Rosie shambles back to her cozy porch spot.

It smells incredible, here, surrounded by so many trees- you take a deep breath, inhaling the rich pines, the verdant underbrush. Just past the house, there’s a fenced-in area with various plants spilling out of raised garden beds. You can almost smell the summer strawberries and crisp veggies. 

On the other side of the fence is a plastic-sheeted greenhouse, LED lights inside making the whole thing glow artificial purple. Eddie catches you staring, then gives a wink, laying one long finger to the side of his nose. “Don’t go tellin’ the Sheriff on me and I’ll give you a joint for your troubles.”

“Deal.” Wasn’t a hard sell at all- at the rate this is going, you’re dying to get high with this man. 

Eddie grabs your pack out of the truck bed and leads you across the dirt road, pointing out the fence lines in the distance, and a barn that you can just make out through a gap in the trees. 

“Sheep, cows, horses, all that way. This way-” his hand rests between your shoulder blades, steering you towards a boot-worn path, “-is the guest shack. Beehives’ll be just down the hill from where you’re stayin’.”

He pauses, looking back over his shoulder at you- “I’ll take you to see ‘em tomorrow. Promise. I just don’t want you goin’ by yourself and getting stung to death, y’hear?”

Not for the first time today, you wish, desperately, to tell him things you shouldn’t. I was actually an apprentice beekeeper for a year, I know my way around a hive. Studied entomology and agriculture in college before I lost myself in the worst mistake of my life. You know that pesky little J I’ve got on my wrist…?

But if you start talking, you won’t stop. And besides, you’re not planning to stay here long enough for your secrets to matter.

So instead, you press your lips into a line, looking solemn, nodding in agreement until he’s satisfied and continues on. 

The dirt path leads right to the shack, and Eddie opens the door to let you in. It’s about the size of a studio apartment- wood stove and sink next to the bathroom door, twin bed draped with a thick quilt budged up under the single window. Small, but homey and clean.

As you take it in, spinning in a slow circle, Eddie sets your duffel next to the bed and runs a hand over the top of his head, haloed frizz of his hair springing back into place. “Ain’t much, I know- usually just host the town rascals; they bring their sleeping bags and fight over who gets the mattress. But the sheets are washed, and-”

“Eddie.” You stop his rambling with a hand to his arm. “Seriously, it’s great. Better than great. I was probably gonna end up sleeping on the streets tonight, and you saved me from that. So… thank you. I mean it.”

The vulnerability in your own voice catches you off guard, but you decide to lean in to it. Eddie’s been nice for no reason- or, rather, because he seems to be a kind person- and you want to make sure he hears how grateful you are for a place to stay.

He’s staring down at your hand on his bare arm, eyes clouded with something you can’t parse out; you draw your hand back, which prompts him to speak- “Shit, darlin’. It’s nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as you like.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insist, arms crossing over your chest, rocking back on your heels. There’s a sudden swell of panic rising like bile in your throat; this morning, you were hell-bent on leaving, and now, you think it’ll kill you not to stay.

“Listen-” Eddie’s eyes snap up at the urgency in your voice, but you manage to push through- “I know I didn’t tell you much, about where I came from, or what I did to end up…”

On my own. The words stick in your throat, tears pricking threateningly at the corners of your vision. “...out here. But I grew up on a farm. I’m used to working livestock, riding horses- I can be helpful. Can earn my keep over the weekend, at least, doing whatever you need-”

Eddie interrupts with a shake of his head, your stomach plummeting until he says, “Got enough farmhands as it is, honey. Don’t need you getting your pretty hands dirty.”

“There has to be something. I can’t cook worth a damn, but I can clean-”

“Hey.” Eddie’s tone of voice slips into a low, soothing register, like you’re a spooked animal caught in a trap. He steps closer, and when you don’t flinch, he settles his big hands on the tops of your shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay. Like I said earlier- I’m not expecting nothin’ from you. Okay?”

There’s gotta be some sort of magical effect happening, an old Celtic carving under the floorboards, maybe a witch's spell braided in with the dried herbs hanging on the far wall. You’ve never felt so looked at before, like you’ve swam beyond your depth and Eddie’s hands are a life raft.

His eyes flit around your face, taking in the expressions you’re surely flickering through before he says, quietly- “If you want, how ‘bout you stay ‘til the end of summer. Help out where you can, and come Fair time, I’ll deal you in on the profits.”

You open your mouth to argue, and smooth as butter, his right hand slips up your shoulder, tattooed fingers wrapping firm around the back of your neck, thumb tapping the pulse point under your jaw, insistent- “This way, you’ll have cash enough in your pocket to go anywhere you want. It’s a good deal and you damn well better take it.”

You wonder if he can feel the jackrabbit pulse of your heartbeat under his thumb. When you nod, he gives a dimpled smile, satisfied. “Good. Now I’ll let you settle in and get washed up for supper. Come on over to the main house when you’re ready.”

Before the door shuts behind him, Eddie adds, “And don’t get too excited. I ain’t much of a cook, neither.”

After his footsteps have retreated down the path, you collapse onto the mattress, springs squeaking. You flip to stare up at the ceiling, running your fingertips over the ghost of his touch branded against your neck, almost nauseous from elation.

A whole summer. On Eddie’s farm. With Eddie. 

After a few minutes of deep breathing, you get up to unpack your duffel, then fold your meager clothes supply neatly into the top drawer of an old oak dresser in the corner, still room enough for your canteen.

The last thing in your bag is a twine-wrapped leather pouch. Your butterfly knife makes quick work of the knots, and then, the last of your most precious things in the world are laid out on the bed. 

A certificate of completion from Indiana U’s Beekeeping Department, folded and creased but still valid, signed by your last field mentor. 

A driver’s license with your old address, square photo of a younger and more hopeful you smiling back.

And lastly, an engagement ring. Gold, with a teardrop-shaped diamond center and sparkling accent stones trailing up either side of the band. 

It twinkles when you hold it up to the evening sunbeam streaming through the window; reflective pinpricks of light scatter and dance across the quilt.

In quick succession, you slide everything back into the pouch, securing it with the drawstring before burying it inside the hidden pocket of your bag.

Then, you shove the duffel under the bed until it hits the wall, and turn away to wash up for dinner.

[exoticb-utters]

Hello!

I saw your recent Hank fic and wanted to ask for a domestic fluff fic for him if it's not a problem.

of COURSE I can ‼️🙏🏽

Lazy Mornings 💕

Hank X GN Reader Fluff Word Count: 805

A light chirping sound awoke you from your slumber, the soft sounds a far cry away in your dreams.

Your eyes softly fluttered open, briefly blinded by the sunlight bleeding through your open curtains. You squinted, eyes slowly adjusting.

You’re met with the sight of a yellow bird jumping as it tweeted away outside your window.

You rubbed your eyes, watching the bird chirp at you once more before flying away. It felt like it was trying to wake you up.

The silly thought caused you to roll your eyes at yourself.

You then shift in your spot with a yawn, attempting to turn over before noticing a familiar weight draped leisurely across your body.

You chuckled silently to yourself; realizing your husband, Hank, was currently holding you firmly against his chest.

You exhaled deeply, savoring the subtle body heat radiating off of him, basking in his warmth as if he were your own personal sun.

Downside to having a husband who sheds, well, it gets all over the furniture. Thankfully, he was the best blue teddy bear you could ask for. Not to mention- this feeling.

You turned around, now facing his chest. Not a horrible start to my morning…Your sleep-ridden mind whispered to you. The thought brought a smile to your lips and a breathy chuckle out of your lungs.

You look up, seeing Hank’s face sleeping peacefully. Save for the open mouth, gentle snores, and the drool probably threatening to spill out onto his pillow.

You let another amused chuckle, taking your fingers through his blue fur while sighing to yourself. He had a long night, dealing with politics and other time consuming tasks the poor guy had to tend to daily.

But he never once complained, he’s truly working towards a better world for mutants- and one day your kids. But that was another story for another day.

You continued gazing at the scenic picture before you, committing every detail of his face to memory.

The way the sunlight highlighted the sharp features of his cheekbones. His soft hair tousled from sleep, barely kissing his forehead. Each strand and curl similar to a paint-stoke intricately placed by a skilled hand.

You loved him so much.

You noticed his mouth twitch, almost in a manner you’d see someone do when trying to hold in a laugh.

“You’re awake.” You say, more of an amused statement than question.

“Well, you’re staring.” Your blue fur-ball of a husband retorts, eyes still closed, but a gentle smirk playing on his lips now.

“I’m impressed you could tell.” Your eyes flickered to his coy smile which revealed those sharp canines. The same ones that may have busied themselves by nipping at your skin…

He hums, his mouth shaping into more of a smug grin as he holds you closer. “Honey, I can always tell. I just choose not to say anything.” You roll your eyes at his reply.

“But, I should ask why you’re up earlier than usual, hm?” He questions, opening an eye to look at you curiously.

“Hmm, I dunno. I must’ve gotten distracted by some…handsome man in my bed.” You joke with a shrug.

“Unacceptable. I should sue.” He retorts, earning a giggle from you. He closed his eyes once more before dipping his head down towards your nape.

You feel his lips pepper kisses on your neck, the hot contact leaving on your skin on fire.

You then lift his jaw, guiding him upwards before catching his lips with yours.

The kiss was sweet, his hand running up your body to rest at your neck. You then held your hand on his wrist, holding him in place- as if he’d run away.

You parted from the kiss, your noses still touching, foreheads pressed against one another. Five years of marriage and he still managed to get you blushing like a giddy school girl.

“…what were we talking about?” Hank spoke, finally opening his eyes. You chuckle, laying your head in the crane of his neck. “Surely nothing that important.”

You felt him place a gentle kiss in the top of your head. “Surely not.” He repeats, resting his head atop yours.

Suddenly, it was back to the comfortable silence. The faint sounds of birds singing outside mixing with Hank’s gentle breathing weighed your eyelids down.

As your eyes began to close, you hear the words you’ve said to each other countless times before.

“I love you.”

A sleepy smile tugs on your lips as you teetered on the verge of sleep, the soft lull of slumber pulling you in like a strong tide.

“I love you too.”

A/N: HOPE YOU ENJOYED! I may be a little bit slower on updates since I'm in Volleyball season, so keep that in mind if it takes me a second to post 😭 but my art commissions and writing requests stay open, so if you want anything written pls drop what you wanna see in my ask box!

-Mae