#in my head they all get together in the end but it's a very bumpy road

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Imagine you kiss the girl of your dreams and she reacts like that 😭 anyway I've been thinking a lot about. Nhnmgmh amphibia role swap AU and the unrequited sashannarcy love wheel.

The love wheel in question:

[decembermidnight]

Don't lose your focus

Summary: As a Jedi Padawan fighting during the Clone Wars, you and your Master are used to teaming up with Clones. But none are as intriguing as Clone Force 99 and their leader, Sergeant Hunter. Sparks fly immediately and it's difficult to keep your focus. With the mission complete, perhaps the two of you will finally give in and indulge in your desires...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, Dom!Hunter, use of pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, masculinity kink, voice kink, light choking, hand kink, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm delay, creampie

A/N: This is the result of me watching The Bad Batch while ovulating. This is (probably) not how the Force works but your honour I was horny. Thank you to my dear @thefrogdalorian for the immense help and support! I love you so much! Amazing divider by @saradika-graphics At the end of the fic you'll find the links to some amazing Hunter fanarts I found here on Tumblr! These were such an inspiration when writing and I wanted to thank and credit the artists for creating such amazing pieces!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3 - Read Part 2 here!

Another day, another dangerous mission in the Outer Rim.

Nothing new for you and your Master who are used to leading these missions successfully. The only difference is that this time you'll be assisted by Experimental Unit Clone Force 99. It’s the first time you even heard about them, but your superiors assured you they’re best suited for this job. A highly-skilled squad of defective clones with desirable mutations? Sounds interesting.

Apparently, The Bad Batch, as they call themselves, despise rules and protocol and adopt unusual methods to get the job done… Much like you and your Master.

Their ship has just made a bumpy landing on the field, causing a fuss. You watch curiously as the squad descends the ramp. There are four of them, and they undoubtedly look badass in their black armour.

The first one – their leader, you assume – removes his helmet and... damn. Damn. He's hot, with a confident look in his deep brown eyes. He also has long, wavy, dark hair; a feature which has always been a weakness of yours. His face is half covered in a tattoo that resembles a skeleton. He's undoubtedly the most charming of the Batch, and also the most attractive clone you’ve ever come across.

“I’m Sergeant Hunter,” he rasps as he greets you and your Master. His voice is deep and husky, very different from those of all the other clones you’ve met so far.

After introducing himself, Hunter moves to quickly describe the peculiarities that make each of the members of the team unique. As you stand back to observe them, you can’t help thinking just how much fun they are. Wrecker (the strong one) is getting reluctantly lectured by Tech (the smart one) while Crosshair (the laconic and lethal sniper) stands there in silence. He reminds you of your Master so much.

As much as you enjoy observing the rest of the squad, you find your gaze returns to Hunter, the clone with enhanced senses. You are unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know you have to keep it together, but you can’t help eating him with your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his body, on the way his pauldrons make his shoulders even broader, how much the black colour of his armour suits him. 

You have just begun fantasising about the way his strong body would look without the armour when you notice Hunter staring directly at you. Busted. You lock eyes for a few seconds and you just know that he understands the nature of the thoughts you’re having about him. Then, your pounding heart skips a beat when Hunter winks at you. It is a split-second gesture that is over so quickly amidst the chaos of the conversation, a little secret between the two of you. You smile flirtatiously at him in response.

The whole group begins heading towards their ship, The Marauder. While the rest of the Batch and your Master head up the ramp towards the ship that will take you to the rendezvous point, you and Hunter pause at the bottom.

“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asks, breaking the silence with his deep, raspy voice.

"I am a Jedi, not a sweetheart," you point out teasingly and look at him with crossed arms, trying to sound tough.

"A Padawan," he reminds you with a smirk on his face.

You watch curiously as Hunter takes your braid – the unmistakable sign of your rank as an apprentice – between his fingers. He gently rolls it between his gloved finger and thumb contemplatively as his brown eyes meet your gaze once again. 

"I technically outrank you, Sergeant," you say, challenging him.

"You do, Commander," Hunter nods, but makes no effort to move his hand away from your braid, or to interrupt eye contact.

Hunter can tell that you don’t mind the gesture. As if to push the boundaries further, he moves his hand from your braid to gently place it on your cheek. The leather of his glove feels soft against your face. You are stunned that a seasoned soldier such as him can actually be so gentle in the way he touches you.  

You can feel the tension coming from the two of you, a simmering fire somewhere deep within. It's only a matter of time before it boils over. You look at each other straight in the eyes, neither one of you daring to look away.

Just as you're about to tease him with yet another witty reply, you hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the ramp.

"Hey, Hunter, are you gonna come with us or what?!" Wrecker shouts, abruptly interrupting your shameless flirting.

"On my way," Hunter replies, without breaking eye contact with you.

His intense gaze lingers on you for a few more seconds before he looks at you apologetically and turns to head up to the ramp and onto the Marauder.

As soon as Hunter turns away from you, you realise just how hard your heart is thundering in your chest. His gaze was so intense that it made you forget to breathe properly. So much for the Jedi breathing techniques. It turns out if there is a handsome man with dark eyes flirting with you, they lose all effectiveness. You take a deep breath, filling your burning lungs with oxygen. 

When you enter the ship, you are still trembling. As you take a seat next to your Master, you try to ignore his accusatory glare. You feel his eyes burning into your soul as the guilt threatens to overwhelm you, even though nothing too scandalous happened.

As the Marauder enters hyperspace, your Master takes a seat on the cold metallic floor in an isolated area of the ship. Meditating before battle is a ritual he always follows and you immediately join him. It can help you shift your focus back to where it should be – on the mission. Only, you can't focus. 

Instead of your mind becoming one with the Force, you're highly attuned to the actions of the members of the squad. It is as though you can see them as if you were standing before them: Tech studying the holo-maps, Crosshair cleaning his sniper rifle, Wrecker taking a nap, and of course, Hunter. He is mindlessly playing with his vibroknife as he slouches on a crate. 

You are entranced by the way his fingers move across the handle and the blade. Maker, the movement of his hand and fingers – you can't focus on anything else as he makes the knife masterfully swirl between them. There's something so erotic about the way he plays with it. Your mind wanders to think about his hands roaming on your body, slipping between your thighs, skillfully rubbing your clit. You fantasise about how quickly Hunter would make you come, how hard your orgasm would be as it tore through you, leaving you a trembling wreck.

Your focus then goes to his muscular thighs. Hunter’s legs are spread wide and he looks so effortlessly masculine. The aura of confidence he radiates as he comfortably sits there, taking up the entire crate as he lounges on top of it, gives you even more thoughts that are unbecoming of a Padawan. It makes you almost dizzy with want as you think about how much you want to straddle him and ride him into ecstasy.

“Are you done?” your Master’s cold voice interrupts your filthy train of thought with a brief and concise message through the Force.

He heard your thoughts. Each and every single one. Your Master caught you red-handed. How embarrassing.

You are too mortified to even mumble an apology, through the Force or otherwise. Instead, you sit there wishing you could be anywhere else in the galaxy as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and pull your hood up to hide your flustered face in your cape.

Luckily, before the awkward moment can continue for any longer, Tech announces the imminent jump out of hyperspace. You still cannot bear to make eye contact with your Master, shrinking into your blessedly baggy cape as you begin the descent into the planet’s atmosphere...

The mission was a success – you and your Master worked your magic with the precious support of Clone Force 99. What seemed like a desperate operation, turned out to be an extremely important victory for the Republic. Training with your Master has been so hard, but damn did that pay off. You slayed all your enemies elegantly and effortlessly, just like he taught you. The whole Bad Batch congratulated you two. Wrecker was especially impressed, electing the two of you as his favourite Jedi. What an honour. Hunter also invited you and your Master to celebrate the victory by having a drink all together in a cantina.

Just as you’re about to enter the cantina and join the Bad Batch, your Master calls your name. You stop in your tracks, scared that he might reprimand you for the way you acted today. You begin panicking and thinking back to what happened in guilt…

When you and your Master had taken off your heavy capes before engaging in battle, you noticed Hunter couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were wearing a skin-tight dark suit, after all.

It was a fact you decided to exploit after Hunter had given his squad their orders for the mission. You walked away swaying your hips, making sure you gave him a great opportunity to look at your ass. You remember how you could feel his eyes glued to it. You could also feel his desire for you. It was impossible for him to hide; it permeated him, radiated from him. Maker, you love making him crumble.

You think back to the way Crosshair rasped, "Hunter, don't lose your focus.”  You are certain that is what your Master is about to scold you for.

Instead, you watch in shock as a half smile appears on your Master’s face, something you don't see very often.

“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” he nods.

Since when does your Master pay you compliments like this?

“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, caught off-guard by how unexpected his praise is.

“You fulfilled your duties as a Jedi. Now, go and have your fun.”

You don’t have time to respond before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing in the breeze. You know your Master doesn’t often like to stick around after missions, often needing some quiet time to himself to decompress and meditate. You let him go, knowing that he will find his way back to the Marauder before it departs, as he always does.

As you step into the Cantina, a smile spreads on your face when you notice the Bad Batch sitting at a table with a full flagon of booze and an empty seat for you to toast your success. You and Hunter lock eyes again as he invites you to sit in that spot close to him.

Hunter loses no time in placing his arm around your shoulders while smiling at you. You lean into his embrace, feeling comforted and protected.  The warm presence of his arm around you makes you smile contentedly. It feels so good to let the guard down for once, especially if you're in the arms of a handsome, strong and charming man such as Hunter.

As the night goes on, the three other members of The Bad Batch keep conversing with each other, giving you and Hunter the opportunity to speak privately. It’s as though the background noise fades out. You don't even bother focusing on the discourse the others are having. It’s just you and Hunter flirting shamelessly now.

“You know, I've never seen a ship like yours. I wish I had time to properly explore it... Thoroughly," you flirt with him while draining the last few dregs in your flagon.

"Want me to give you a tour, sweetheart?" he says with a smile on his face, perfectly understanding your intentions.

"Would be cool, yeah," you reply.

Hunter offers you his hand and you gladly accept it with a mischievous smile.

Just as you stand, you feel the alcohol has definitely kicked in. You’re not drunk though, just a little bit tipsy, enough to make you brave and go get exactly what you want.

As soon as you and Hunter get out of the cantina and find yourselves alone in the dark alley, you both give into the instincts you tried to suppress all day long. Hunter pins you to the wall as you pull him closer at the same time, until you join in a passionate, longing kiss.

You welcome his tongue in your mouth as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch and the way he kisses you are so confident that you clench around nothing, holding him tighter as you moan in his mouth. Maker, you want him. His whole body jolts when he feels that, pinning you harder against the wall, mentally cursing the armour that is preventing him from feeling the softness of your body against his. 

He stops kissing you just so he can look at how stunning you are under the moonlight, hot and flustered after that first, heavy session of making out.

"Look at you. So beautiful," he whispers as he cups your face with his hand, the other one still lingering around your waist. Hunter is treating you like the most precious thing in the galaxy now that he can finally have you all for himself. You lean into his gentle touch as he takes in all the features of your face, especially the way your eyes glimmer with admiration and arousal for him.

You look at his deep, dark and expressive brown eyes and the strong, masculine features of his face that make you throb with need. Your hand caresses his cheek, following the lines of his skeleton tattoo and the contour of his chiseled jaw. He observes you as a sweet smile appears on your face, making you look irresistible and drawing his lips closer to yours once again…

"Hey! Where's Hunter?!" you hear Wrecker shout from inside of the tavern, just as your lips are mere inches apart.

You and Hunter both laugh as you resume the kissing. It's like the whole galaxy stops existing. For a soldier who has seen nothing but war, his kisses are to die for. Your tongues twirl in each other's mouths and it's like his greedy lips can't ever get enough of yours. His mouth is hot like a damn furnace as he takes all the time in the galaxy to worship you with his lips, letting his hands wander throughout your body. You're getting soaked already, feeling your arousal slowly dripping down your legs as a throbbing need pulsates between your thighs. You moan in his mouth as you dig your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is getting deeper and more passionate as you go on. 

Hunter's lips start to trail down to your neck, making you sigh deeply as he covers it in kisses. Your scent drives him wild. He can smell your pheromones, feeling you're unmistakably full of desire. He can't resist and just gives a swift lick from the base of your neck to your ear that makes you sharply stifle a gasp, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair.

"Let's go to the Marauder, shall we?" he rasps in your ear, a voice full of lust that gives you goosebumps.

"Y-yes…" you stutter, feeling light-headed with arousal and being incapable of hiding it.

He offers you his hand as you enter the ship. The two of you cut a clumsy path through the Marauder towards Hunter’s bunk, frequently taking breaks where Hunter desperately pushes you against the cool steel walls of the ship, your arms clinging tight to his shoulders and his face buried in your neck.

"Maker... Take off your armour," you plead as his teeth dig into your delicate skin like a feral beast would do with his prey.

He does, letting each piece fall to the ground as you go on kissing each other, leaving a trail of armour pieces on the floor as you slowly make your way towards his bunk. He looks stunning with just his tight black suit on. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his pectorals stand out, highlighted by the tightness of the suit and grope the strong muscles of his biceps. Oh, fuck. How much do you love a man. Tall, muscular, strong, confident, with dark eyes and a head full of long, wavy hair. A Man. 

You moan in his mouth when you feel his thick biceps flexing under your touch. A smile forms on his lips as he feels how much you like this. As his arms wrap around your body, yours go in his hair. Maker, how safe do you feel in his arms. It's such an innate instinct – wanting to be held in the arms of a strong man, surrendering and trusting him, something that usually you would never be permitted to do in your life as a Jedi.

You can feel his erection against your lower belly, straining against his extremely thin black suit. His fingers hook in the hem of your pants, yanking them down over your ass, exposing your drenched cunt as he sits you down in his bunk.

He kneels before you, taking your boots and pants off and spreads your legs, his dark eyes looking into yours as a smirk appears on his face.

"Hunter–" you sigh.

"Wanna get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart," he coos as he starts to kiss your inner thigh.

The vision makes you tremble with lust and your hands helplessly clench into fists in a desperate attempt to grab the material under you to keep you steady. Your legs shake but he keeps them steady in his strong arms. He goes on trailing kisses on your inner thighs without ever stopping looking at you. He's taking his time with it, wanting to enjoy the way your whole body is throbbing with need. Your breathing gets more and more shallow as his mouth gets closer to where you want him the most. 

You lift your gaze from Hunter’s dark brown eyes, shutting your eyes for a mere fraction of a second, trying to alleviate the aching need you feel. Hunter chooses that moment to finally give you what you need. With a quick lick to your clit, your whole body jerks into his touch and a whimper escapes from your lips.

Hunter smirks up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards in a smug, satisfied look. Then, he proceeds to bury his face between your legs and masterfully lick your swollen clit. His tongue brings you so much pleasure that your back arches involuntarily, pushing yourself further into his mouth. You moan his name and grab a handful of his long, thick hair. He purrs in your cunt when you entangle your fingers in his hair and you notice how his grip on your legs becomes tighter.

"Oh... Oh fuck!" you exclaim in ecstasy, barely able to form words.

One of his hands releases its grasp on your legs, which he has been using to keep you spread open for him. You throw your head back gasping as he slowly slides two of his thick fingers inside you. 

"So tight," he growls with a smirk on his face.

Hunter pumps his fingers inside of you, slowly increasing the rhythm, ensuring that you’re stretched out for him. It is a motion that brings you so much pleasure you wonder how it could possibly get better. Your whole body jerks in pure bliss under his touch. He enjoys looking at you like this, you can see it from how darkened his eyes are with lust.

For a brief second, his fingers and mouth leave your cunt, leaving you devastatingly empty. You watch in awe as Hunter sticks them in his mouth, without breaking eye contact with you. He sucks on his fingers, humming while closing his eyes to savor your taste from places where his tongue can’t reach.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he rasps as he resumes fucking you with his fingers.

He watches you contort under him, moaning and begging for him to return his skillful mouth between your thighs. Your hips thrust up and down right in front of his face. You are shamelessly fucking yourself on his fingers, inviting him to bury his face back in your folds. You desperately bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Damn, you're so beautiful like this," he says before his mouth goes back exactly where you wanted.

Then, Hunter does something absolutely devastating. While he continues licking your clit, he starts sucking it gently, all as he continues pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Hunter wants to draw an orgasm from you, his actions becoming more and more frantic as you grow closer to your climax. He can feel by the irregular way you breathe and shake that you're close. 

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Let go, sweetheart," he encourages you.

It's only a matter of seconds before you come, writhing under him. Your legs are wrapped around his head, squishing it. You scream his name so loud it echoes in the Marauder. Hunter is pleased as he looks at your blissed-out expression and feels your cunt clamping around his fingers. Your back arches as you ride your orgasm, pushing yourself further into his tongue so you can feel him licking you through your orgasm. Hunter purrs into your cunt, loving the way you let go around him. He loves how his face is getting soaked in your arousal, so addicted to the way you taste.

Hunter holds you steady as your orgasm fades out. When you regain your senses, you slowly release your grip on his hair. Only then he props himself up and slowly unzips his suit, showing you the beautiful golden skin underneath. A warm contrast under the black, tight layer.

The dark hairs on his chest are perfectly trimmed, accentuating each of his toned muscles and the tattoos which decorate his thick, masculine body. Your gaze is locked on his hand trailing down his abdomen, his muscles rippling as he approaches the hem of his pants. 

You shamelessly look at the bulge in his dark suit, a sight that makes your mouth water. Hunter’s lips curve into a smirk once again, noticing that you like what you see. The smug look on his face makes you throb with need once again, despite the fact that he just gave you an intense orgasm.

He hooks his thumb in the hem of his pants, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly pulls the material down to reveal the trimmed, dark hairs around the base of his thick cock.

Hunter notices the intense way you look at it and hears the whimper you just tried to suppress in your throat. He can feel your heart rate going up. It makes him smirk confidently as he goes on, finally freeing his hard, thick cock. You gulp while looking at it, as he uses the same fingers he had buried in you to cover it in your arousal. He gives it a few, firm strokes to ensure it’s nice and wet for you. The mere vision of it makes you bite your lip to muffle another impatient whimper.

Then he is on you, peeling your shirt away from your quivering body, rejoicing when he can finally touch it and worship it with his mouth. Hunter trails kisses across your collarbones and down towards your breasts. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh there, before softly biting your nipples. You gasp when you feel his erection hard against your cunt. He starts to thrust his hips against yours so his cock can rub against your drenched core, getting it soaked in your juices. Your mind turns completely blank at that, heart thundering in your chest as his hands roam across your body. 

Hunter aligns himself to your entrance, groaning as his cock slowly makes its way inside of you. You admire his restraint. You know how much he probably wants to take you with one thrust, but instead he is being so gentle and careful with you, making sure that you are well-adjusted to his size.

He takes your jaw in his hand, looking deep inside your eyes as his thick cock stretches you open. You struggle to keep eye contact with him, unlike earlier when you were flirting with him. Now, your eyes only want to roll backwards. The pleasure you feel as he splits you open is overwhelming your body and senses.

You pathetically try to mumble some incoherencies, but he's quick to shut you up with a kiss. Hunter growls low in his throat when he feels your walls desperately clenching around him, as he buries himself into you to the hilt.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good," he rasps, almost desperately before giving you another wet kiss. Then, he raises his hips only to bury his cock deep inside you, making you moan into his mouth.

"How – how can you feel so fucking good?" he whimpers.

Hunter’s large hands gently cup your face, as he continues placing passionate kisses against your lips while thrusting into you. You notice his kisses become more desperate as he slowly increases the rhythm. As Hunter picks up the pace, he buries his face in your neck, panting low in your ear. 

You are certain that he can’t go any faster, before he proves you wrong. He increases the pace to a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard you start screaming.

"So loud,” he rasps, “They're gonna hear us in the Cantina." 

"Then make me shut up," you whisper daringly.

A blaze of lust glimmers in his eyes as you lay down that challenge. Something shifts inside of him as he gives you a feral, animalistic look. Hunter quickly covers your mouth with his hand, showing you his more dominant, commanding side which makes you clamp tightly around his cock.

"Oh, you like this," he smirks, satisfied that this is precisely what you wanted all along.

You nod frantically. There is no use hiding how much this turns you on. Despite how much Hunter shows care towards you, you suspect there is something darker which lingers below the surface. You want to draw it out of him. 

"What else do you like, hm?" he coos as he wraps his other hand around your throat, lightly choking you, his thumb rubbing your throat possessively.

The sight of you, looking so vulnerable under him as he can finally dominate you makes him frantic with lust. Gone are the measured thrusts and even rhythm of before. Something feral has overtaken Hunter, a desperate need to claim you. He continues silencing your moans with one hand around your throat and one across your mouth, muffling your gasps as he wrecks you with his cock. 

Having Hunter's hand muffling your own moans gives you the opportunity to hear his desperate grunts and pants as they mix with the obscene, squelching sound his cock makes each time he thrusts into you. You close your eyes in bliss, enjoying this moment of pure pleasure. 

"Can't keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart? Look at me with those pretty fucking eyes," he growls.

You can't help but whimper at that, at how authoritative he sounds. The Sergeant of The Bad Batch is dominating the fuck out of you. You are a moaning, gasping mess beneath him, unable to think about anything other than how good being furiously pounded by him feels. 

"I didn't catch that,” Hunter rasps as he slowly lifts his hand from your mouth. He leans down to put his ear against your mouth “What were you saying, sweetheart?"

"L-let me – fuck!” you gasp, too blissed out to form words.

“Use your words,” Hunter commands, slowing his thrusts down so you can finally speak.

“Let me touch you!" you beg, unable to care about how desperate and pathetic you sound. All you can think about is roaming your hands around the warm, firm expanse of his body.

Hunter smirks, intrigued by your request, only too happy to oblige you. He grabs your hand roughly by the wrist and positions it over his abdomen. You can feel his muscles flexing and contracting under your touch as he thrusts into you. His body is as hard as iron and on fire like a damn furnace, burning with lust.

"Maker…" you whisper.

You let your hand trail up to his firm chest. You grope his pectorals, appreciating the firmness of his muscles. Your cunt clenches around his cock at the sight of your hand against his golden skin. A smirk appears on his face, enjoying what he does to you.

Your hand goes up to his broad shoulder, rubbing over it before you move your hand towards his back. You feel how his muscles strain there with each thrust as he continues pounding into you at a relentless pace. Both of your hands are now caressing his back, feeling every single dimple under your fingertips. Just as you try pulling him close, he starts to give it to you even harder. You scratch your fingernails along his back. You watch in awe as Hunter moans in your mouth at that. 

"Could–could fucking smell how much you wanted me earlier. You distracted me the whole time. Couldn't think of anything else besides how good you'd look with my cock inside of you,” he rasps in your neck before biting you, growling wildly as he does. “I was so fucking hard for you, sweetheart," Hunter grunts. 

He's so feral for you, fucking you so hard. You can't even mumble a response.

"Smell so good – so fucking good–" he whispers in your ear.

"D-don't s–stop," you mumble in your cockdrunk delirium.

"I can't, sweetheart. This cunt's all I ever wanted,” he growls, “Gonna make you mine. Mine." 

"Oh, fuck… Yes," you pant as he props himself up, kneeling in front of you without stopping that devastating rhythm for even half a second.

He looks at your body, at the way your boobs bounce with each thrust as he gives it go you even harder, holding on tight to your legs, using them as leverage to bury himself even deeper inside of you. Seeing him like this makes you remember just how badly you wanted to ride his cock earlier.

"Hunter. Hunter. I want to ride you," you whimper.

"Is that an order, Commander?"

"Y–yes. Yes. Order. S–s-sergeant," you mindlessly go on as he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you.

The thought of you bouncing on his cock makes him throb. In an instant, Hunter lifts you in his arms as if you were weightless and makes you straddle him. He sits with his back against the wall of the bunk. His hands are on your waist and you immediately start rocking your hips up and down, giving into your fantasy from earlier.

"Such a good soldier… So good at following orders," you whisper against his lips.

"Yeah… Sometimes," he smirks before gripping your hair and stealing another wet, hot kiss that makes you melt into him even further.

Your head rolls back in pleasure at the way his cock feels from this position. It's devastating, hitting something deep within you. You almost lose yourself in that feeling, but Hunter won’t allow you to. Even though you are on top of him, Hunter is quick to remind you who’s in charge as he takes your jaw in his hand.

"Eyes on me," he orders firmly.

"Yes, Sergeant," you moan. 

You swear you feel him throbbing and choke a grunt when he hears the sensual way you pronounce his title. Clearly, using his rank in this context has done something to Hunter. He moves his thumb between your lips and you suck it provocatively, never stopping yourself from meeting his gaze. Hunter’s pupils widen at the sinful way your lips envelop his finger and your tongue gently touches it. His eyes take into your sensual, precious beauty, before bringing you to him and kissing you again.

Your bodies are damp in sweat and rubbing against one another. Your nipples deliciously catch against his hairy, broad chest. You continue moaning into each other's mouths; your tongues never stop touching.

"Hunter, I'm gonna come–" you whimper.

"Hold it for me, sweetheart," he rasps in a sweet, yet dark voice, having the opposite effect from what he intended.

"Please, I want to come on your cock," you plead desperately.

"Not yet," he smirks.

Hunter grabs your hips and guides your movements so that your clit starts to rub against his pelvis. You let out a loud moan as you hold on to him tighter, digging your nails in his shoulders.

"I can't hold it!" you scream with your eyes shut.

He grabs your chin in his hand, clearly uninterested in your desperate appeals.

"Look at me," he says firmly as you open your eyes. Your vision is too blurry to focus on him but you try nonetheless.

"Now come for me, sweetheart," he rasps darkly.

You obey his order and come hard around his cock. An overwhelming, intense wave of pleasure starts at your core and completely takes over your body. You’re wrecked by uncontrollable shakes as Hunter holds you in his strong arms. You scream and pant as you ride your high. Your eyes roll backwards while Hunter focuses on how beautiful you look when you lose control. Especially when he is the one responsible for it.

Hunter feels your heart running in your chest and every single contraction of your muscles around his cock. The unmistakable, heady scent of sex that fills the Marauder drives him insane, making him burst inside of you. He grunts loudly as he fills you up with his load, holding you tight in his grasp.

You moan in each other's mouths, your forehead leaning on his as you look into each other’s eyes. You never leave each other’s gaze as you both give into the highest of pleasure.

As you come down from your high, your rhythm slows down until it stops completely. Your bodies are intertwined like vines, naked and sweaty as you catch breath in each other’s embrace.

You really do make a great team, after all.

Fanarts: Hunter's back + Shirtless Hunter by @mesvi Hello handsome by @corukant Wet Hunter by @iszapizza Hunter under the shower by @shakall Hunter and his vibroknife by @ve-ti-ver Hunter under the shower by @cloned-eyes Hunter taking off his shirt + Tech by @constant-brain-fog Hunter taking a shower by kaijurave (on twitter/x)

[musings-of-a-college-dork]

First Time With Someone Like You…

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader, brief mentions of Billy x reader

Word count: roughly 10.1K

Eddie and his girlfriend finally put a label on it at last and now they’re feeling ready to take another new step together.

Warnings: NSFW (Minors do not interact), oral (f receiving), protected p in v sex, mentions of kinky shit but no kinky shit, reader’s first time having sex, inexperienced reader, terms of endearment (baby, pretty girl, sweetheart), AFTERCARE INCLUDED BECAUSE YES, fluffy sweet sex. 

Author’s note: I got a message the other day from @wdsara48 sending some very sweet thoughts about Bumpy Ride which is my other NSFW piece currently published and asking if I had ever written Eddie with an inexperienced reader and yes I have! This is that piece! It's again part of the same longer work that most of my Eddie stuff is from! Anyway it's on the longer side and I hope you all enjoy!

The Hideout was never a big spot, never drew a big crowd, but recently Corroded Coffin had managed to get a bigger gig - a going away party for a good friend of Gareth’s. The group had all banded together in order to make sure their setlist was flawless, down to a t, and needless to say, it had paid off. 

Corroded Coffin had just finished their rendition of “Jessie’s Girl”, which had left the crowd more than satisfied and their pockets heavier than usual as they began packing up their belongings. Music blared over the speakers, although it was nothing compared to them live. Eddie was also a little stoked on the premise that his girlfriend was here - something that always made him excited. Up until this point, they had never said the words to each other and had never put an official title on it but now…tonight they were ready to introduce her to the band as the girlfriend. People were still laughing and talking, but Y/N and her friend Jude who she had come with weren’t quite ready for the party to be over.

 “Hey Y/Nnnnnn”, Jude sang as they ran up and poked their friend. “Jonathan’s going to drive Nancy, Robin, and I home. Do you want to come?” 

“Oh,” Y/N said as she looked between her friend and the boy she was now thrilled to call her boyfriend, before shaking her head, “Thank you but…I think I have other plans. I appreciate it though! Have fun! And be safe!” She tacked on to the end despite herself. Jude engulfed her in one last hug. 

“You little freak “ they whispered, before heading out the door with the rest of their friends. Eddie was closing his guitar case and walked over to the bar to collect a few last donations people had left for the band. Once he gathered his money, he smiled and jogged to Y/N.

“Hey you”, he looked down at her. 

“Hey there yourself,” she laughed as she took one of his hands into hers, “You put on a remarkable show Munson. Really.” He blushed.

“What can I say?,” He took a pause before asking, “Seriously, what can I even say to you right now? I’m getting so distracted.”

“Maybe brief introductions to your bandmates who I don’t know and then…” Y/N had to take a little breath to gain the courage to ask, “We go back to yours?” Eddie looked into her eyes with disbelief. He grabbed her hand and started fiddling with her fingers out of nerves.

“For sure, yeah. They’ve been dying to meet you”, he said absent-mindedly, as he pulled her over to the boys sitting on the stage. “Hey fellas, there’s someone I want for you to meet”, Eddie beamed. Y/N stood at his side, his hand still in hers as she gained the attention of his bandmates. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m Eddie’s girlfriend.” God did it feel good to say it at last. The band stood in stillness. 

This stillness lasted for eternity. 

Gareth and Jeff looked at each other, trying too hard to hide their smile. Finally, Harrison broke the silence.

“Wow…” he cleared his throat. “ That’s… excuse me….that’s really cool.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to finally meet this girl that Eddie hasn’t been able to shut up about, since the beginning of summer,” Jeff reached out to shake her hand. Y/N let go of Eddie’s hand to return it only for Eddie to take the free hand on the other side of her with a little squeeze.

“It’s equally as nice to meet his wonderful bandmates at last,” Y/N said, returning the hand squeeze with one of her own. 

“Honestly we thought he was making you up,” leaned Harrison, who leaned on the mic stand in order to properly shake his head. 

“Oh really?” Y/N laughed as she looked at Eddie, “He made me sound too good to be true?” 

“You would not believe it. He said you were hotter than Phobe Caits,” Jeff laughed. “Which you actually are,” Eddie turned to face Jeff with a look on his face that spelled out danger, “Respectfully,” Jeff modified with his hands up in the air.

“No one is actually hotter than Phobe Caits,” Y/N said with a smile, “But I appreciate the compliment. Well, I don’t mean to keep you all from cleaning up, let me know if I can help but if not, I’ll just wait until you’re done.” 

“Hey, no worries at all. Just enjoy the music, we’d be happy to give you a ride home,” Harrison said. 

“Considering that I am the one that drove you gentlemen here, I’ll be the one to offer,” Eddie said with a hint of agitation in his voice. He faced Y/N and winked. “The ride offer is also extended to you. We won’t be very long. Right men?”

“Right,” they barked. Y/N decided to let them work and headed to take a seat at the bar until they were done packing up, enjoying the people still partying around her. It wasn’t very long at all before Eddie slid up next to her.

“Hey,” he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, “Just so you know I didn’t do anything tonight. Like, I’m sober. In case you wanted a ride home. Scout’s honor,” he smiled and put up his hand. “And I am totally down for if you want to come over, but if you….” he faded.

“I really would like to if you want,” Y/N said softly, “I am sober too. I had half a drink and called it quits and…I want that but only if you do.” 

“Legendary,” he chuckled. He took her hand. “By the way, my van smells like armpits because of those little shits. Just so we’re clear,” he led her to the door of the bar. He took her hand and led her out of the bar and towards his van parked at the very edge of the parking lot.

“And the smell of weed?” Y/N teased completely as she enjoyed their hands swinging back and forth together. 

“Yeah…that’s me,” he chuckled as they got closer to the car. “You don’t mind it too much?”

“It’s ok, I’ll just have to sit closer to you since I like the smell of your cologne,” she smiled, making his heartbeat pick up.

“Damn,” he opened the car door for her, and offered his help, “you’re making me feel like a princess tonight.” 

“Simply trying to return the favor since you always make me feel that way,” she beamed at him as she got in the car before the rest of the band brought their stuff out and began loading it in. He shut the door gently behind her and continued to hold her hand through the window. He kissed her hand gingerly and then simply leaned against the rearview mirror, gazing at her. He completely ignored his band’s cries for help and complained. He just sat and looked at her. 

“Nice view?” She asked without looking at him. He said nothing. He lost his smile. His face turned into something else. Before Y/N knew it, he was kissing her more passionately and carefully than she had ever been kissed. 

“EDDDDIIIIIEEEEE” the band cried together. He parted from her regretfully and took one last look in her eyes before he continued onto the driver's side. Y/N was absolutely breathless as she processed it with all her fingertips coming up to trace over her lips. Eddie was opening the driver’s side door before she knew it and she had long forgotten his bandmates were present.

“Do me a favor baby and buckle up,” he said as he reached over and buckled Y/N’s seatbelt for her before not buckling his own, “it’s gonna be a bit of a rough ride.” 

“Hey Eddie, are there seat belts back here?” asked Harrison.

“Nope.” Eddie turned on the ignition and pulled out of the space, “Clench your butt cheeks to the seats and shut the hell up!”

Eddie drove as recklessly as possible, having absolutely no regard for the safety of his fellow bandmates… only becoming careful when he remembered Y/N was in the car. 

“Get out” he would say as he pulled up to their house. 

“I had fun Eddie,” they would say sheepishly.

“Out!”

Finally, when the last member had been dropped off, Y/N could watch the tension leave Eddie’s shoulders. 

“They’re good friends, huh?” She asked. 

“They are,” Eddie pulled his van into reverse and sped off the road towards his castle, “They’re young and can be idiots though.”

The pair fell into a comfortable silence until Eddie deemed that as usual, he had something more he needed to say.

“I am beyond proud to be your boyfriend,” He started making Y/N smile, “But I think, for your sake, we should come up with some kind of protocol. I’m not sure if you’d want anyone else to know that we were dating. It could ruin your reputation.” Y/N looked over at him as he drove, processing for a minute. 

“Respectfully, Eddie, I don’t care about my reputation. But…I do understand if you care about yours,” she said honestly, “I mean having me as your girlfriend kinda ruins the scary guy who hates everyone thing you’ve got going.” 

Eddie shook his head and gripped her thigh tighter. “Believe me, if I had things my way I wouldn’t be thought of as scary. People just fear what they can’t understand. And for everyone else in this dumb hick town, I am an enigma.” He pulled into a lot that had multiple trailers and drove slowly. He pulled up to his Uncle’s trailer and turned off his headlights. “I’m saying that it could be potentially dangerous for you. You could be the target of a lot of hate and gossip. Just promise me you will think about this….” Y/N felt her heart break for him just a tiny bit as she looked at him. Taking his face into her hands and turning her to look at him she nodded.

“I will. I promise,” she placed a soft kiss on his cheek which made him melt, “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

“I got you,” He murmured softly, “Always.” Y/N beamed as she leaned over and kissed him on the lips gently before pulling away. He let out a light giggle before he practically leapt out of the car and scurried to open her door for her. “M'lady," he offered her his hand. She giggled as she took it and allowed him to help her out of the car, shutting the door behind her. 

“Thanks, Eddie.” 

“It’s actually Sir Eddie, to be precise, Lady L/N '', he led her to the front door, puffing his chest out to be the most chivalrous version of himself that he could be. 

“Yes sir,” Y/N said with a laugh as she headed up the steps to stand beside him. Hearing this gave Eddie superhuman strength and he bounded up the stairs to open the door for him. Good to note, Y/N thought to herself.

“Just so you know, my Uncle works nights and I think he’s staying with his girlfriend tonight,” Eddie opened the door and bowed to let her in first. 

“That’s probably for the best,” Y/N said as she stepped inside. She admired the place, the hats that lined the walls, the countertop filled with stuff, and how warm it felt instantly, the warm lighting making her feel at ease. “I mean… never mind,” she cut herself off and stepped fully inside, pushing nerves and fear of saying the wrong thing aside.

“Sorry about the mess,” Eddie said as he moved some things here and there as Y/N continued to take it all in. She thought for a split second he maybe hadn’t heard her remark from before but as he turned to her she knew he had, “And don’t make me laugh. You know what we’re about to do”, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the left of the trailer into the far right room. “This is me”, he opened the door for her, revealing his bedroom. 

“Wow,” Y/N said, admiring how eclectic it was. The walls were crammed with stuff and despite things being fairly clean, she could tell the place was usually messy. 

Maybe I wasn’t the only one hoping for this, Y/N thought as she looked around, admiring the photos and band posters as she stepped all the way into Eddie’s room, missing that he closed the door behind and leaned against it as he watched her. Without thinking much about it she pointed to the blank spot on the wall which was remarkably out of place with the rest of the decor. 

“For your guitar?” She asked. 

“Oh yeah!” He nodded as he took a step off the wall, his eyes trained on Y/N, “You should meet her sometime. Her name’s Roxie and she has the clarity of an angel. But she’s out in the van and…. I don’t feel like she’s my main focus right now”, he grabbed her waist and pulled her in so that her back was pressed against his chest drawing a gasp from her as he moved her hair to expose her neck to him, “No offense Roxie,” he whispered before placing a kiss on Y/N’s neck softly and delicately to test the waters.

“Very respectful of you to leave her in the van when having another woman over,” Y/N teased as she leaned into him, head tilting back to rest on his chest, giving him permission to continue. He smirked and complied leaving another, and another. 

“She’s a strong and independent woman. I guess I have a type”, he said as his hands slid down her waist, giving a little squeeze to her hips. “I’d never leave you in a car though, to be clear,” Y/N laughed out loud as she slipped off her jacket. 

“I appreciate it,” She said as she turned to face him. “Eddie, I just want to say if you have any hesitati-”. He picked her up between her legs and threw her on the bed. She would have bounced but before she could Eddie wrapped his arms around her thighs, effectively pinning her hips down as he looked at her from between her legs, kneeling on the ground still. He looked at her for a moment before confessing with a sigh, “I’m hesitating like crazy.”

“Because…?” Y/N prompted as she sat up just a bit to be closer to him. He grabbed her wrists and threw them back on the mattress, positioning himself comfortably on top. He paused and looked at her for a moment before his expression shifted and he let out a sigh as he sat up to kneeling, leaning back on his hands. 

“I…I’m gonna be honest here and vulnerable and stuff,” he said, trying to keep his demeanor casual but Y/N could tell he was being serious, “But I’ve never been with someone I actually care for in the way I care about you. Most people want to hook up with me - get the town freak’s dick, learn a bit about themselves so they can get off, and leave - and that’s fine but…I guess I’m worried that since I’ve never been with anyone I cared about beyond wanting to learn…well stuff…I won’t compare to Hargrove,” he said with a little look down before shaking his head, “Which is stupid I know-”

“I wouldn’t know what Billy is like,” Y/N cut him off as she sat up. Eddie looked at her and raised a brow. 

“But you…” Eddie’s eyes went wide as he looked at her, “You and Billy never did it?”

“Nope,” Y/N said, not meeting his eyes, “We did not…we just…made out a couple of times…” His expression changed, it lightened. 

“Oh,” he slowly rubbed the sides of her thighs back and forth. “So… and correct me if I’m wrong. This would be your first?”

“Yes,” She said, looking at him because if she couldn’t admit to him she wanted him to be her first she didn’t deserve to have him as such, “It would be.” He leapt up with a drive she knew only from days when he was really pumped for Hellfire. 

“Well, then this is ALL WRONG”, he paced back and forth looking for something. “Hmmm.” He stopped when he saw his stereo. “Well, we obviously need music,” he smirked and bolted to his cassette shelf, diving in and throwing random tapes on the wall. 

“No! Seriously?” Y/N asked as she sat up, laughing as she took the time to examine his room a bit more to distract herself from the nerves, “Eddie I don’t think that’s…” Her eyes caught on a metal shiny piece hanging from the wall near where he was searching for music and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Why did he have those? Just then “I’m On Fire”, by Bruce Springsteen. The soft guitar played through the speakers as Eddie tried to diffuse the tension. 

“Oh,” he ran to his desk and ripped out a piece of notebook paper. He went to work doing something on it, but Y/N was all too distracted by the handcuffs on the wall. He finally turned around and offered her an origami rose made out of said notebook paper. “Next time, I’ll get you a bunch. Sorry, I only had one,” he sat on the bed next to her and brushed her hair aside, drinking her presence. “Whatcha looking at?”. 

“Nothing,” she said far too quickly as she turned back to him, beaming at the rose and at him. “That’s impressive,” She said, trying to clear her mind and focus on how sweet he was being, despite her stomach being in knots. 

“Well, middle school Munson didn’t have the musical talent or sexual prowess that he does now. So…. I… spent all my time making origami.” Y/N laughed out loud, a smile coming to her face.

“That’s sweet,” She admitted, “Do you do this for all the girls?” She said in an attempt at an old cheesy line, batting her eyes in a mock manner. 

“The other girls haven’t seen my bedroom”, he replied matter-of-factly. Y/N sat in silence, her eyes wide as she took in that information.

“Oh,” was all she managed, her mind drifting back to the handcuffs as she went red. Is that because he has his personal stuff here? Maybe it’s because he didn’t want them to know him…does he want me to know him? Her mind raced and he could tell by the hazy look on her face. 

“You like that?” He got up and started walking towards the wall. He looked back at her with a knowing smile. 

“Yes,” she said, completely honest, “Not to sound like a cliche but…it makes me feel…special-god, that’s such a shit thing to say-”

“Oh no, not at all,” he smirked getting closer to the wall, “I like them too. I only break them out for special occasions.” 

“Oh!” Y/N said quickly as she looked at him, “No, I didn’t mean…I meant that no one else has been here…I didn’t…” 

“Hm?'' he scrunched his face as he turned to look at her again, his hands coming to rest on his heart in mock pain. “I’m surprised at you, L/N. Do you not like it?” He pointed to the Metallica poster right next to the handcuffs. “I thought you loved Metallica- Oh did you think I was talking about…” he trailed off, trying to feign, trying to read her thoughts on the handcuffs matter. But genuinely, he was curious despite the fact he was teasing her to put her at ease. 

He hadn’t considered that they would use those ever, especially not for her first time. He didn’t mind if Y/N was vanilla which would have been his guess looking at her. Sure, she could and did talk back from time to time, something he adored, but he wouldn’t have pinged her as being kinky. But Y/N was unlike anyone he’s ever met. And if she wanted it, he’d be happy to oblige. 

“Oh god,” She said as she buried her head in her hands and laughed, “I’m so sorry, I can’t…I just…” She couldn’t even complete the thought she was laughing so hard. This broke him from his thoughts and completely focused fully back on her at this moment.

“You laughin' at me L/N?” He took this as a challenge. He puffed out his chest. This only made her giggle more as she looked up at him with a beaming smile. 

“I like Metallica,” she started as she continued to smile at him, “I also like the fact that I am the first person you’ve had here, for this…and I do like the handcuffs but not for tonight,” she said as she continued to smile at him but it shifted to a smirk at the end, “You’ve gotta ease me into it.” Eddie’s eyes went wide for a split second. Holy shit. She not only rose to the bait, she baited me back. This girl is going to be the end of me. She batted her eyes up at him and he realized in this moment of shock she had managed to get the upper hand, something he couldn’t allow. 

“Hey now”, he bent down on his knees, looking up at her. “Don’t get cocky”, he flipped her over on her back and pinned her hands down on the mattress. “That’s my job”, he paused for laughter. “Get it? Cocky?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she laughed as she looked up at him, “I get it alright. You’re so…I don’t even have words to describe you!” 

“Ah jeez you can’t think of any?” his eyes ran over her body. “Do I make you that nervous?”

“You don’t make me nervous,” she said honestly, “You make me happy and feel important and…you just make me feel like me. Sex…” She hesitated before shaking her head, “Sex makes me nervous!”. His demeanor faltered slightly. 

“Understood”, he said with the most seriousness he could portray, despite the fact that she had just made his heart explode. “ And we don’t have to do anything at all if you don’t want to-”

“No!” she said quickly, “it’s not that! It’s just…look I’ve made out with people but this is totally different from that,” Y/N said quickly, “Because I didn’t love any of them so this is different because…” She trailed off as she realized what she had admitted to. Sure the thought had been in her mind for a bit but she had never dared to say it out loud. Eddie almost missed that last part because he was concentrating so deeply but he heard it. He wanted to ask her if he had heard her correctly. That was his intention. To ask her and then if he heard her correctly. That was the plan.

But he knew he had heard her correctly. He knew it. And instead of replying, the words were moving too fast in his brain and it was all he could do to pull her into him and press his lips to hers. 

Y/N gasped as he did it, her heart racing before she melted into him, her hands coming to tangle in his hair as he laid her back down. It was only an instant before he was all over her, his lips touched every inch of her he could. He quickly slotted his knee in between her legs and pressed into her, the whine that fell from her mouth like heaven, drawing a sigh of his own. He moved away from her mouth as he pressed kisses down her jaw and to her neck. He was deliberate in his actions, strategically pressing kisses until he felt her grip on his hair tighten, earning a smirk from him. He began to abuse the spot, sucking and gently nipping at her skin as she muffled her sounds with one of her hands.

“Come on,” he coaxed as he pulled away ever so slightly to revel at the sight of her lust-blown eyes as she laid under him, “let me hear it all, baby. Just us, and you sound so pretty.” It was at that moment that he pressed his knee into her even more, drawing a whine from her that she didn’t hide as she gripped his black button-up which was still half done and revealed a couple of his tattoos. 

“Eddie,” she said softly as she looked up at him. 

“Yes, baby?” He prompted with a teasing grin as he leaned down to press more kisses to her neck, trailing lower to her collarbones. 

“Remember when you said it was my next adventure to find out how many tattoos you had?” She asked, trying her best to keep her voice steady as he continued on his course. He hummed in reply, and though he couldn’t see it, a smirk came to her face.

“How can you expect me to do that when you’re still dressed?” The chuckle that fell from his lips had her thighs pressing together, his knee still embarrassingly sandwiched between them so she knew he could feel her move. 

“Trying so hard to get me out of my clothes,” he said in a mock attempt to shame her as he pulled back a bit, “Too bad for you I’m a gentleman so…” He went to his knees once more and looked at her with pupils blown wide, “Ladies first.” Y/N’s smirk only grew as she got up from where she was laying down on the bed and first took off her fishnet tights, setting them aside with her jacket. She reached for the hem of her dress before turning her attention back to him. 

“Sure you don’t want to undress me?” The grin on his face would put the Cheshire cat to shame as he leaned back on his hands. 

“Nope,” he popped the p loudly as he leaned back even further, truly getting comfy, “I want to watch you strip for me.” Y/N slowly pulled up her dress without any more fanfare, his request being more than enough to do her in. She set aside her dress and was suddenly struck with nerves once more as she stood in the underwear she had carefully chosen. She went to meet Eddie’s eyes to get any sense of how he was feeling about it all and felt her breath hitch in her throat at the way he was looking at her.

She had people have crushes on her along the way. She’d made out with a few different people, enough to count on a single hand, and she had had sex before but no one, no one on earth had ever looked at her like Eddie was looking at her now. 

He pushed off of the bed and stood up, taking slow steps toward her as his eyes raked over every single inch of her bit by bit. When he came to stop in front of her, he gently took her arms which had come up on instinct to cover herself, and lowered them at her sides, allowing him a full view. She looked at him as he stared at her body, his one hand coming up to cup her bra-covered breast.

The piece she had chosen was mostly sheer with a few red lace flowers covering here and there and without an ounce of padding, something all too obvious as he ran his thumb over her nipple before giving her breast a soft squeeze. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he felt how soft she was underneath his hand. His eyes then met hers, his free hand coming up to rest on her cheek, “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Any semblance of the cocky arrogant character he had put on at his show and even the teasing tone she so commonly heard from him had left his voice. As she looked up into his eyes, all she could see was sheer adoration, idolatry even. 

“You’ve seen me in my underwear before,” She said with a soft giggle as she thought back to the night last summer their little group of friends had all stripped down to their underwear for a midnight Lover’s Lake swim. His expression didn’t change as he looked at her. 

“But this is different,” his voice was deep and so full of emotions she couldn’t name as he spoke, “You’re letting me see you, touch you…you’re letting me take you as mine and allowing me to become yours. This is…you, are everything.” Y/N looked at him with that same look of adoration he had been giving her written across her face. Their eyes met again before he pressed his lips to hers once more, softly this time, so gentle it was like he thought she was at risk of breaking. She kissed him firmer, more so to assure them both that they were here, really here, together than anything else. He kissed back with equally as much passion, his hand on her breast squeezing even tighter to match drawing a gasp from her. 

Before she knew it, his hands had come to her hips and he had picked her up, her only option was to wrap her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He let out a hum into their kiss as she did, his hands coming to hold her ass and giving it a squeeze. 

She gasped not only at the action but at the feeling of his cool rings against her heated body. He made his way to sit on the edge of the bed, resulting in Y/N sitting in his lap as he continued to kiss her. When he pulled away it was only so he could trail one of his hands up to her neck, kissing down the other side as he used his hand to manipulate her body exactly how he wanted it, listening to every little sound she made as an indication of what she wanted. He wanted to learn every single intricacy of her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to know her heart as well as he knew his own. He kissed her neck all over until he found a spot that made her breath hitch. He smiled as he did, beginning to gently nip at the skin there. When her fingers tangled into his hair and she let out a whimper that made him throb in his pants, he all but lost it. 

“You like it when I leave marks on you, pretty girl?” He asked between kisses, his hand that was on her neck coming to grasp her breast and gently pinch her nipple, drawing a moan from her. “Need words, baby.” 

“Yes,” She moaned out, fingers pulling in his hair as her head fell back when he went right back to it at her confirmation. “Feels amazing.” Eddie’s mind wandered momentarily and he pulled away causing her to whimper in complaint. He looked at her as she sat in his lap and a question came to his mind. 

“Y/N, has anyone ever eaten you out?” 

“No,” she confessed breathlessly as she looked at his swollen lips, ones she was sure matched her own. “I um…people have offered but I didn’t feel comfortable returning so I didn’t want them to so…but I’m ready now, with you.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he praised as he gently brought his lips to hers before pulling away and smiling at her, “All I want in the world right now is to eat you out without wanting anything back. I just want to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. We’ll have plenty of time to fully explore each other later if you ever want to. And if you don’t that’s ok, alright?” She looked at him and he watched as the tension visibly left her body as she leaned in to gently press her lips to his. As they kissed, her hands came down to the buttons on his shirt and she began to undo them. He let out a hum of approval as she did, pressing kisses to her neck and breasts as she continued until his shirt was fully unbuttoned. He untucked it from his pants when it was and opened it so she could better see him once he had. Y/N pulled away and her eyes ran up and down his body, reveling in the sight. She brought her hands up to where the shirt was on his shoulders and looked to him for permission to push it off his shoulders. He nodded, giving her all the confirmation she needed to expose his torso to her. 

She took this moment to look at the tattoos on his left shoulder, ones she hadn’t been paying that much attention to the first time she had seen him shirtless out of a need to be polite and not stare. But now, she really took them in. There were two of them on the left side of his chest, a spider and a demon. The spider was a bit higher up but they rested very close. She took a moment to trace her fingers over them as he watched her before she leaned in, pressing soft opened mouth kisses to them. Eddie’s hands both flew to her his as she felt him grind up into her, hard as a rock as she worshiped his body. She moved ever so slightly, pushing him to lay down on the bed so she could be on top, trailing kisses down his torso and to the little trail of hair that led down below- 

A little whimper of pain came from Y/N as Eddie’s hands tangled in her hair and pulled her up to straddle him. 

“Shit,” he swore as he moved his hands from her hair and gently cupped her face in his hands searching for any indication, “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry-”

“It’s ok,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss to his lips to stop his worries. She pulled away to find that the concern had partially eased and she felt a little bit bolder, leaning in to whisper to him, “Besides, I like having my hair pulled.” 

“Jesus,” He swore as she pulled back and smirked down at him beneath her, “You, Y/N L/N, are going to be the death of me.” Y/N chuckled and leaned down to continue as Eddie’s hands wound in her hair again, pulling much more deliberately this time. “Baby, this is about you, not me,” He scolded as he sat up, taking his hands out of her hair and running them down her body, “And I’m trying so hard to be gentle so make it easy for me pretty girl. Don’t you want to be good for me?” He knew it was a risk that Y/N might be against being spoken to in such a way but he watched as her eyes glazed over and her jaw dropped just a bit as she nodded. 

“Then do me a favor, pretty girl, and lay down for me.” She complied in a heartbeat, moving out of his lap and laying down on the bed. He smiled at her as he took a moment to admire her before kneeling beside the bed and adjusting her so she was exactly where he wanted her. 

“Spread your legs for me.” She did, a hint of embarrassment and anxiety coming up as she knew he may not like what he saw. She knew people who condemned girls for having bigger thighs and stretch marks and things like that and for a brief second, she let herself consciousness kick in, something Eddie seemed to be remarkably aware of. 

“Hey Y/N,” he said, drawing her gaze to look down on him, knelt between her legs, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want but I’m telling you now, you are the most stunning person I’ve ever laid hands or eyes on. Genuinely. You have nothing to be nervous about.” She melted as she could see the honesty in his eyes and again he watched her relax. He brought his hands up and slowly parted her thighs, loving the goosebumps that appeared on her skin as his rings came into contact with her body. He had to fight the moan that threatened to slip from his lips at the sight of the wet patch on her underwear with every fiber of his being. He pressed kisses all over her thighs, slowly working his way closer to her still-covered core, his hands finding their place on her hips as he held her on the bed. When he did finally get to her core, he pressed a soft kiss to her heat through her underwear, drawing a gasp from Y/N. 

“Do you want me to take them off?” He asked gently as his thumb ran circles on her lips. 

“Please,” she said, a smile coming to his face as she angled her hips in such a way that he could pull them off. He leaned up and ever so gently removed her underwear, setting them aside. 

“Holy shit,” He whispered as he looked at her. He knew he needed to be slow, to ease her into it, so he tried his best, repeating the kissing of her thighs, this time without her underwear there until finally he got to her core. He pressed a soft kiss to her clit and felt her hips move on instinct, keeping them pressed to the bed. He continued, slowly getting bolder until he slipped his tongue inside of her. 

Soft whimpers and moans fell from her consistently now as she relaxed into the pleasure he was so skillfully giving her. She felt so very at peace and was truly unable to do anything else but think about him between her legs. 

“Eddie-” She moaned out, the man letting out a moan of his own at the way she moaned his name. 

“Yes, baby?” he asked, briefly coming up for air. 

“Can you…can you also…”

“Y/N say the word and it’s yours,” He said as he leaned back to be able to look at her, “Anything you want baby.”

“Can you use your fingers too?” She asked sheepishly. The grin that lit up Eddie’s face instantly melted any worries she had about being needy. He replied with actions not words, instantly slipping two of his fingers inside of her causing her to gasp. 

From their previous encounters - though simple and brief ones - he knew that usually two was her comfort zone but if he was going to actually fit inside of her he wanted to use at least three. The general theory was if he started with two instead of one then three wouldn’t be such a stretch. 

That theory seemed to be working as she whimpered and moaned from the stretch beneath him. 

“You’re doing- so good,” he praised between moans as he put his mouth right back to work, sucking on her clit like his life depended on it and right now, it felt like it did. As much as he wanted to solely focus on her pleasure, he couldn’t help the little grind of his hips against the carpet every time she moaned. It slowly became a consistent rocking until he feared he was going to cum completely untouched just from eating her out. While he’d love to do that another day, tonight they had a plan and if she had gotten herself all ready for it, he refused to spoil it by finishing too early. He had been so distracted by his name coming out in moans from lips that he hadn’t even registered it was probably because he had been fucking three fingers into her for a while. Her hands were tangled so tightly in his hair and he quickly put two and two together on what was coming, leaning it to suck on her clit more as he continued doing exactly what he was doing until Y/N suddenly gasped and moved away from him with a little, “stop.” Eddie’s hands let go immediately and went into the air as he looked at her breathing heavily. 

“I'm sorry-“

“No, no,” she shook her head at him, moving back closer as her chest heaved, “I was just…I knew I was going to…squirt and I didn’t want it to be while you were-“ 

“Oh my god,” Eddie said as he pressed her down against the bed and climbed on top of her. “You were going to squirt and you stopped me!” 

“Yes!” She nodded, “I…most guys wouldn’t want to be anywhere near that!” 

“First off, yes they would,” Eddie nodded, his fingers already back between Y/N’s legs slowly slipping inside of her again, “and secondly, we already know I am not ‘most guys’.” He went back to what he had been doing before and watched as Y/N relaxed under him at his words. He liked this even more because of how at peace she seemed so he kissed his way down her body and got right back to it. Instead of changing anything he was doing, he continued right on with what he had been doing, putting his whole heart into it and reveling in the fact that he was able to get her like this. It didn’t take long until she was crying his name again, her eyes squeezing tightly closed and her fingers tugging at this hair with a vice. 

“Let go, baby,” he commanded and she did. Her release gushed over his face and he licked her clean with a fearless new to him. He had been with others before but never anyone who got this reaction out of him. It was only when she let out a little whimper of pain he realized she was already feeling overstimulated and he couldn’t have that…not yet. 

“How are you, pretty girl?” He asked as he came to rest over her again. She nodded as she looked up at him, a smile on her face as she pulled him in for a kiss. It was gentle and sweet and he felt his heart melt at her sweetness despite what they were doing. 

“So good to me,” He murmured as she pulled away to kiss down his neck. Her hands quickly found his belt buckle and began to mess with it, a pathetic-sounding whine coming from her when she realized she couldn’t figure out how to undo it. He chuckled as he batted her hands away before pressing a kiss to each one. 

“I got you,” He smiled and she returned it as he undid the buckle. He quickly set it somewhere on the floor to be forgotten about as he sat back on his knees. Y/N quickly sat up and ran her hand down to where his hands were on his zipper. 

“Can I?” She asked, looking up at him with complete adoration. He couldn’t deny her anything and nor would he ever want to so he just nodded and sat back, allowing her to do exactly as she wished. She unzipped his jeans with one hand, using her other hand to trail down his body, following the little trail of hair downward. As she finished unzipping his jeans and looked to him to get up and take them off, something he complied with, slipping them off and setting them next to his belt. Now in just his black boxers, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of anxiety. What if he couldn’t please her? What if he couldn’t manage to learn what she liked? He stood with his back facing to her for clearly too long as she was out of bed. 

“Hey,” Her voice was soft as she gently turned him to face her, her one hand coming up to turn his face to look at her as her free hand held his hand, “We can stop here if you want or do something else-”

“No,” He shook his head, “I want this. Really. I want you.” Y/N smiled at him and gently pressed a kiss to his lips before it became less gentle. She managed to move both hands to Eddie’s chest and he walked back until his back hit the door with a little gasp at how easily she had taken over. She chuckled as she began to press kisses down his chest, her one hand coming down to palm him gently over his boxers which made him gasp again. 

“Is this ok?” She asked as she pulled away from his neck for only a moment, taking in the sight of how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back against the door, his eyes shut in pleasure. 

“Yes,” he replied, a breathy moan following. “You can…you can take it out if you want.” Y/N didn’t reply with words, smiling as she did exactly that. She took it in for a moment, her eyes going wide as for the first time ever she processed the idea of him being inside her. She ran her thumb over his tip gently causing another groan to come from him as his hands grasped her hips with a force. He was so hard and she was impressed that he hadn’t finished yet but god did she feel bad for him. She wanted to please him so bad so that’s exactly what she set out to do. She stroked him gently, seeing what he liked and what got the best reaction from him, reveling in each sound he made. As soon as she started to get the hang of things, one of his hands moved from her hips and took hold of her wrist. Her eyes shot up to meet his which were now open and looking at her. 

“Sorry,” he said gently, “You were doing great…it’s just, I’m pretty worked up so I didn’t want to finish yet.” Y/N smiled at him and nodded 

“I get it…but I mean…you made me-”

“It’s different,” he said as he picked her up again and carried her back to his bed, laying her down gently, “Takes me longer to get back to it.” His choice of phrasing made her giggle and his focus snapped to her, “You’re really laughing at me? Now?” 

“Yes,” she replied as she shook her head. He chuckle and pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling away. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” He said as he leaned over and opened up one of the drawers near his bed. He easily found a condom and held it up to her, his expression going a bit more serious. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes,” she said as she took it from him and opened it much to his surprise, “I’m ready.” He watched with a smile as she pulled it out and rolled it onto him, careful as always with delicate hands before setting the wrapper aside. He wrapped her thighs around his waist and looked down at her. 

“Tell me if you need me to stop at any point, ok?” He said as he lined himself up. She nodded, words escaping her at this moment. Right as he was about to press in, he heard her speak. 

“Just…be gentle. Please?” He felt his heart melt at her plea. Eddie leaned down and kissed her so softly and whispered, “I promise,” as he began to press in. Y/N automatically tensed at the feeling, it was brand new to her and he pulled away from their kiss to whisper to her. 

“I know,” he said as he fought for his own breath as he waited with just the tip in her, “Just breathe for me, baby.” She nodded through a whimper and took in a shaky inhale, causing him to press into her a bit more, “There you go,” he praised. “Just keep breathing.” While she relaxed for a moment, she instantly tensed again as he started to move.

He instantly noticed and without a word brought his hand up to hold hers, pressing them both into the mattress with a gentle squeeze. The tiny gesture and his soft smile allowed her to breathe easily. Eddie smiled as he noticed the calm this brought Y/N, pressing another kiss to her lips as he slowly pushed into her, stretching her out. As he did, her eyes squeezed shut and her toes curled as a moan was forced from her lips. Their one set of hands parted and Y/N’s nails instantly find their way to Eddie’s back. He let out a shaky moan as she left marks he knew he’d love to see in the mirror tomorrow.

“Fuck. I’m not even halfway in and you’re already...so tight...fucking...damn.” Y/N squirmed under him as he attempted to let her adjust, his words causing her to want more than he was giving her. 

“Don’t squirm,” Eddie commanded in a dark stern hiss, causing Y/N to instantly stop moving and clamp around him, forcing a moan as Eddie buried his head into her neck. Interesting, he thought storing the information away for later. He pulled his head out of her neck and spoke gently, “I’m going to push the rest of the way in now, ok?” Y/N nodded at him and he began to slip in once again. 

“Fuck,” He swore as he bottomed out in one fatal thrust causing them both to gasp, “God Y/N, you feel so good.” She managed to give a little nod to him which instantly caused him to check in with her.  

“How are you feeling?” He asked, making sure to remain very still to give her time to adjust to the sensation.  

“It hurts just a tiny tiny bit,” She confessed, thankful that all the rumors she had heard about it hurting a lot the first time were just that. “I just feel...full.” He gave a little chuckle and began to pepper kisses all over her cheeks before kissing her lips again. 

“Well that’s good,” He smiled as he pulled away, “All I want is to make you feel good, baby. You were still a bit tense. Just relax now, pretty girl,” He purred as he ran his hand down her body, “I’ve got you and everything is going to be ok.” Seeing the genuine and kind look in his eyes made Y/N instantly melt and any trace of tenseness was gone. A dull ache soon settled between her hips and she found herself rolling them in an attempt to ease the pressure causing Eddie to let out a little hiss.

“Is that my sign to move?” He asked with a smile. 

“Please,” Y/N begged softly. Eddie can feel his heart melt at her little plea. Instantly, all he wanted to do was hold her and never let go but he quickly brought himself back to the moment at hand. He pulled out just a little before thrusting into her making her let out a little gasp of a moan at the feeling - his own moans echoing along with hers. Eddie then dropped his weight to his forearms on either side of her head which brought them even closer together. He slid both of his hands into her hair lightly as he quickened his pace causing more moans coming from the pair as they began to fully lose themselves in it all. 

Even through the pleasure of it all, Y/N could tell how remarkably gentle Eddie was attempting to be and it made her heart flutter. Despite his best efforts, Eddie naturally became a bit rougher by second nature, but as things speed up and the knot in Y/N’s stomach came closer to bursting, she don’t mind a bit. Her free hand tangled into his hair and pulled causing him to groan into her neck, nipping at the skin there enough to leave even more marks. Call him possessive, he was and wanted her and everyone else in this stupid fucking town to know that she was his now. 

His need to mark her up though was only overcome by his want to etch every expression that crossed her face into his memory, so he pulled away to watch her beautiful face contrast beneath him.

“Fuck,” He swore as she let out a cry as he hit what he assumed was her G spot, angling to make sure he kept that up, “So fucking pretty for me.” Y/N could tell how close Eddie was getting by the absolutely stunning expressions painted on his face and the little praises that he uttered. His one hand slowly found its way to her clit and he softly attempted a couple of different things to see what elicited the best response. After a particular movement, he felt her tighten around him with a high whine and he knew he'd hit the jackpot. He repeated the movement while continuing to thrust into her, causing Y/N to cry out in response as she felt the coil come this close to snapping. 

“Eddie, I’m going to-”

“I know baby, I know,” He moaned as she clenched around him, “Cum for me.” His command was all it took for her to come completely undone beneath him. Her high and the feeling of her gripping him like a vice was all it took to have him finding right along with her, burying his face into her neck to muffle the long whine that came from him as he pressed as deep as he could get into her. He continued to thrust into her, allowing the pair to ride out their highs before finally stilling. They both lay there, breathing heavily a mess of tangled limbs and sweat, glowing with love. Finally, when he caught his breath, Eddie pulled away enough that he could see Y/N’s face. 

She was always beautiful but damn did she look good post-orgasm. He wanted to burn the sight of her into his brain forever.

“How are you feeling, pretty baby?” He asked as he ran his hands through her hair and cupped her cheek. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and Eddie swore he died and went to heaven as she looked up at him, the love in her eyes and smile on her face all too innocent considering what they just did. 

“So good,” Y/N replied, her voice high and soft, music to Eddie’s ears, “How are you?”

“So good,” he echoed back to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I know I just like…popped your cherry and all,” he smiled as she giggled at the expression, “But I still can’t believe you’re real.”

“I’m real,” Y/N giggled as she flicked his forehead, making him beam, “That real enough for you?”

“Yeah that works,” he said as the pair fell into giggles making them both realize Eddie was still very much inside. “Oh shit,” He swore, “I’m gonna pull out now, is that ok?” 

“Mhm,” Y/N hummed as she gave his hand which was still held in hers a little squeeze. He gave her a small smile as he pulled out both of them letting out little moans as he did. He instantly wrapped her into his arms, holding her so close to him as she buried her head into his chest. She had never felt so safe in the arms of another person before, wanting nothing more than to hold him forever. 

“You did so well,” He praised her, “You know that?” He pressed kisses onto the top of her head as she stayed buried in his chest. 

“Thank you,” came her soft reply.

“You don’t have to thank me for praising you baby,” He chuckled.

“No, for…for everything,” she said as she pulled away ever so slightly so they could look at each other. Her eyes were so sleepy as she looked at him but the adoration was still written all over both of their faces. 

“Oh Y/N,” he said as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “You don’t need to thank me for that at all, baby. I loved it. I really loved it.” 

“Me too,” she replied as she beamed up at him, shifting ever so slightly and grimacing. It was that little grimace that reminded Eddie of what needed to come next. 

“Baby, I’m gonna get stuff to get you cleaned up, okay?” He asked as he gently pulled away. 

“M’kay,” she nodded as she looked at him, “But don’t be gone too long.”

“Getting all clingy on me already?” He teased as he slowly slipped out of bed and slipped off the condom, throwing it away before looking back at her, his eyes going wide.

“Fuck,” He swore as he took in the sight of her sprawled out in his bed completely fucked out. The very worst part of him had never wanted to take a damn Polaroid so bad but his top priority was getting her cleaned up and comfy. 

“Weren’t you going somewhere?” Y/N teased as she realized the effect she was having on him, rolling onto her side to give him a different view. He chuckled at her and gave her ass a little swat as he left the room.

“Little brat,” he reprimanded as slipped on his boxers, “And here I was trying to be chivalrous.” 

“Chivalry is dead Munson,” She said as he walked into the bathroom and wet a towel with warm water, ringing it out before heading back into the bedroom.

“Oh yeah?” He asked as he gently ran the towel over her body, cleaning her up, “Then what, pretty girl, would you call this?” 

“Common courtesy after that,” Y/N giggled as she looked up at him. He shook his head and gently moved the towel to clean between her legs, lifting her one leg as he did and pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. 

“I don’t know,” He teased as he set the towel aside when he was done, “I think I’m a pretty chivalrous guy.” 

“You are,” she said with all genuineness. 

“Anything else I can get for you?” He asked softly as he cupped her cheek again, “Water? Food?”

“Clothes?” Y/N asked as she looked down at her still very naked body. 

“Right,” Eddie said as he got up and walked over to his closet before thinking better of it and coming back over to her, “Wanna come pick out your pjs?” 

“I get to pick?” The joy in Y/N’s voice, as she sat up with a little wince, made Eddie’s heart melt. God I lo… his thoughts trailed off with a little pang in his heart as he made his way over to her. 

“Mhm,” He nodded as he picked her up bridal style in his arms making her smile, carrying her over to his closet, “Take your pick.” She looked through his little t-shirt collection before looking at the Metallica one he had been wearing the second time she had met him. 

“That one,” she said with a point. He smiled and nodded as he set her back down on the bed, grabbing it out for her and bringing it over to her. 

“A good choice,” He said as he watched her slip it over her head. 

“You wore it when Jude first brought me over to your house to pick up their drugs,” Y/N said as she searched for her underwear. “Can you bring me my underwear?” Eddie was frozen and didn’t even register her request. “Eddie?”

“You remember what I was wearing?” He asked softly as he looked at her. 

“Of course,” she nodded, “I thought you looked so handsome. You are so handsome-” Y/N couldn’t even get her thought out before he pressed his lips to hers, pressing her into the mattress again before he pulled away. 

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish chuckle as he wrapped her in his arms again, “I don’t know what came over me-”

“Don’t apologize,” she said with a smile as she pulled him fully into bed with her, “Just stay here with me?”

“Always,” he replied and he meant it with every fiber of his soul. The pair curled up together, limbs tangled, needing to be so close and neither one had ever slept so well in their lives as they did that night. 

So that's the fic! Yay! 10k words bby! As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are throughly appreciated!

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

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@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED

[cjlouwho]

The Gables

Part 3 of my meeting the parents series. one more to go! all can be read individually, but they're better together. Start from the beginning here. Read part 3 below, or on ao3. tags are all on ao3.

It was about a three hour drive to Tommy's parents place in Hanford. It was south of Fresno, which Buck had been to a few times over the years, but he'd never paid attention to Hanford.

“It's relatively small,” Tommy had told him. “Most people don't notice it.”

It had been a week since Tommy had gotten the call from his mom. It was short, just under five minutes. If Buck was honest, not much was even said during those minutes, but when Tommy hung up he took a deep breath and asked Evan if he'd like to go for a day visit.

“I haven't been home in a year,” he'd said, “and mom needs help with a couple things.”

Tommy almost looked like he was about to be sick. His skin paled and there seemed to be a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Against everything screaming in his mind, Buck didn't ask questions right then. He simply responded with a yes, that he'd be happy to come along, and left it at that.

Tommy didn't talk about his parents often. He'd mentioned that his dad was a lot like Gerrard, said his mom wasn't really the hugging type, but hadn't really divulged anything beyond that.

Buck could get him to open up about nearly everything in his life, even the uncomfortable stuff from his past that he still beat himself up over on occasion, but when it came to his parents and the life he had with them... there was a whole lot of nothing.

“Anything I should know before we get there?” Buck asked. He'd asked the question a couple of times over the past week, always getting the same answer.

“Uh, no. No, I don't think so.”

“Come on, Tommy, I gave you an entire presentation on the Buckley's before you met my parents. It's good to be prepared.”

Tommy let out an exasperated sigh. “I'm not sure there's a way to be prepared for the Kinard's, Evan. You can't really predict them.”

“Okay, so unpredictable. See, I can work with that.”

Buck's earnestness elicited a smile from Tommy. It was a good sight to see, seeing as he'd been pretty tense since they went to bed last night. He reached over and took Evan's hand, resting them over the center console. “I'm not trying to make it hard on you,” he said, “I promise. I just... I don't really know them all that well either. They're hard to describe. It's been a year, and the last time I was home it ended in my dad getting nearly blackout drunk and my mom throwing a frying pan at his head. She missed,” he reassured Evan, who was not very reassured, “but still, she tried. It was weird though, because the time before that, they were “so in love” and “couldn't be without each other”, which I had also never seen growing up. That's, you know, what I mean by unpredictable.”

Buck nodded, feeling a bit in over his head. “I see.”

“You'll be fine though,” he said, giving Buck's hand a squeeze. “It'll... It'll be fine.”

Buck wondered if Tommy knew just how unsure he sounded right now. It made the knots in Buck's stomach get even tighter.

*****

They drove for a little while after getting off the highway, turned down random street after street until Tommy turned into a neighborhood with a broken gate. 'The Gables Trailer Park' a sign read. The further they drove into The Gables, the more potholes filled the road, causing a fairly bumpy ride.

Trailers were spread out along the open, flat terrain. Some had grass around their homes, others dirt and rocks.

“Is this where you grew up?” Buck asked. He wasn't sure if he was headed to Tommy's childhood home, or a place his parents had moved after he left.

“Yeah, from about eight up. Before that we lived in an apartment in Fresno, but my dad's dad lived here. When he died, he left the place to dad, and it was cheaper than the apartment so we moved.”

They drove for about half a mile until Tommy pulled off the road in front of a trailer. It was an ivory color with brown trim. Looked like it hadn't been painted in quite a few years. There were panels covering parts of the lower half of the trailer, but gaps made it so you could still see underneath. This particular trailer wasn't set on grass, but on what was currently some muddy dirt thanks to the surprise rain storm they'd had the night before.

There was a blue tarp over part of the roof. A sign on the right side of the door informed that trespassers would be shot, while a sign on the left side told them to beware of dog.

“They don't have a dog,” Tommy said, apparently reading Buck's mind. “And dad had to give up his guns like five years ago. Ready?”

Tommy opened his door and got out before Buck had the chance to ask the nearly fifty questions that were popping into his mind. First on the list was asking why his dad had to give up his guns? He'd have to remember that question for later.

He took a deep breath and got out of the truck, straightening out his jacket before he shut the door behind him.

Tommy waited for Buck at the front of the truck, holding out his hand as Buck stepped closer to him. “It'll be fine,” Tommy said, pulling Buck close. “Just remember, no matter what, we're leaving by five.”

When they got to the front door, Tommy knocked twice, then let go of Buck's hand while they waited.

“Sometimes they don't hear the first knock,” he said after a few seconds, then knocked again.

“I'm coming, I'm coming!” A woman yelled, swinging the door open. “I'm old, you gotta give me more time.”

“Hi, Mom,” Tommy greeted. Her eyes moved quickly from him to Buck, who gave her a smile.

“You brought someone.” She sounded unimpressed.

“This is Evan Buckley, Mom. He goes by Buck. Evan, this is my mom, Alice.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kinard.” Buck held his hand out for a shake. She hesitated, wiped her hand off with the hand towel she was holding, then shook.

“Buck,” she replied simply.

She was a small woman, no more than 5'2. Her white hair was pulled back in a bun, and she didn't seem to wear makeup the way Buck's mom did. She wore a red t-shirt and blue jeans, socks but no shoes, and no smile anywhere in sight.

“Well, come in,” she said, waving the hand towel in their direction. “Don't want the flies coming in.”

The second Buck walked in his nose began to burn. The place reeked of cigarettes, with a faint scent of beer that lingered in the air.

“I got a list of things I need you to do while you're here today,” she said, shutting the door behind them. “Your friend can help if you need him to. Go say hello to your dad while I get the list from the kitchen.”

The living room was to the right, and when Buck looked over he could see a man sitting in a recliner, facing away from them, watching TV.

Tommy sucked in a deep breath before heading over to him, Buck following a couple steps behind.

“Dad,” he started.

His dad turned away from the TV long enough to give both he and Buck a glance, then turned back. “Didn't know we'd have company today.”

“Mom didn't tell you I was coming?”

“She told me you were coming.”

Tommy rubbed anxiously at the back of his neck. Buck wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, hold his hand, stroke his back, press a reassuring kiss to his shoulder. He knew none of those things were good options at the moment.

“Right. Um, Dad, this is Buck. Buck, this is Frank.”

“Hello, Mr. Kinard. Nice to meet you.” He didn't try to shake his hand. Frank was too focused on whatever show he was watching.

“Mm,” he grunted. “Tommy, get me another beer while you're up.”

Tommy brought his hand to Buck's elbow, “You can sit if you want,” he said quietly. “I'll be right back.”

Buck nodded, walked over to the couch and sat.

He looked around, taking the place in. Almost everything inside looked like it came out of the 80's. A floral sofa, grayed in the places it used to be white. A brown recliner that Frank sat in. The TV had an antenna, and there was an old stereo in the corner. None of the furniture matched, and magazines and newspapers sat on top of most of the flat surfaces.

Buck spared an extra look or two at Frank, trying to find any resemblance between him and Tommy. He couldn't.

Frank had leathery skin, with salt and pepper hair. His wasn't curly the way Tommy's was when he didn't have any product in it. There were no laughter lines on his face, which was on Buck's favorite things about Tommy. He wore a white shirt that fit tight over his beer belly, and stretchy shorts with bleach stains. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and his short beard came in patchy. He seemed tall, but not quite 6'2.

The sound of Frank's voice brought Buck out of his thoughts.

“I'm sorry, Sir, what was that?” he asked, noticing that Frank was looking in his direction.

Buck had gone over a list of potential questions in his head, and the way he'd answer them.

“We met on a rescue mission. We've been together nearly a year now. I moved in just after Christmas. I know some would think it's too fast, but when you know you know. You've raised a great man.”

There was not a single part of him that ever anticipated the question he got instead.

“So, which one's the boy and which one's the girl?”

Buck stared at him, dumbfounded. “I- um, there's-”

“Don't know how many times I gotta say it, Dad,” Tommy said, walking back into the room with a beer in hand, “there is no girl. That'd kinda ruin the whole being gay thing for me.”

Frank grabbed the beer from Tommy, leaned over and popped the cap off on the side table. “Sure would make it a lot better for me.”

Tommy went to open his mouth, but Alice cut him off. “Come get the list!” she called from the kitchen. “Need to get started so you're done by this evening.”

*****

They didn't talk about Frank or Alice while Buck helped Tommy fix the bathroom sink. He just handed him the tools whenever Tommy asked.

Nothing was mentioned while they changed lightbulbs, or rehung a picture in the main bedroom, or moved a piece of furniture out of the house and onto the side of the road for trash pickup. They both stayed relatively silent until they headed into the spare bedroom for Tommy to fix the fan.

“Was this your room?” Buck asked, looking around for signs of young Tommy.

There didn't seem to be any.

“It was,” Tommy replied.

There was an old bed in the room with a brown and yellow quilt on top. An oak dresser in the corner with newspapers poking out of the drawers. The closet door was ajar, the inside so filled with boxes that it couldn't shut all the way. The paint was chipping from the walls, and there was a dampness in the air from a window that was left open about an inch.

“Is anything in here yours?” Buck asked as Tommy stood on the bed to get started on the fan.

“Um,” he glanced around, spotting a cowboy hat on a chair in the corner. “That hat was mine,” he said. “I used to pretend I was a cowboy when I was little.”

Buck smiled at the thought. He went over and picked up the hat. He tried to imagine a little Tommy running around, faking a country accent with a worn red and black cowboy hat.

“I need to get you one of these for home,” Buck said. “Maybe some boots, a western shirt, chaps.”

“Oh God,” Tommy shuddered. “That sounds like quite possibly the worst role-play of all time.”

Buck tilted his head, eying Tommy up and down, imagining. “I don't know, sounds pretty good to me.”

“I can't even see you right now, but I know you're looking at me like that, and it's making it very difficult for me to concentrate.”

Buck laughed. “Okay, okay. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to stand there and look pretty, but not too pretty.”

“So, you don't really need my help?”

Tommy stopped messing with the fan to smile down at him. “I always need your help, Evan.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “That's a no then. I think I'll go see if your mom needs any help.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He patted Tommy's shin before heading for the door. “I'm sure I'll survive, Cowboy,” he said, earning a snort from Tommy.

*****

While Tommy continued with the fan, Buck made his way toward the kitchen where Alice was fixing a late lunch.

“Mrs. Kinard, is there anything I can help you with?”

She sighed, like he was disturbing her peace. “You know how to chop lettuce?”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

She grabbed a head of iceberg lettuce and plopped it down on the kitchen table with a knife and a bowl. “Frank doesn't know how to do anything in the kitchen,” she said, motioning for him to sit and get to it. “At least he pretends he doesn't. Been pretending for forty-eight years.”

“You two have been together a long time. You're lucky.”

She snorted. “Don't know if I'd say that. But, we're lifers.”

Buck chopped the lettuce carefully, as though he were going to get graded on his ability. He wanted it to look perfect.

“Can I ask you a question about Tommy?” Buck asked.

“You can try,” she replied. “Not sure I'll be able to answer.”

“I was just wondering what he was like as a kid? He's only has a couple pictures of himself when he was young, but most are from his time in the army.”

“I'm sure I've got some laying around here somewhere,” Alice answered, grabbing up some more vegetables and sitting down across from Buck. She eyed his lettuce for a moment, then set a couple tomatoes in front of him.

It felt like getting an A+ on a report card.

“Tommy was a busy kid. Always running around, getting into trouble. Never really told me much about what he was doing, but when he got caught... Well, it would've been better if he hadn't.”

Buck wanted to ask what she meant, but a part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He didn't have to wonder long, Alice continuing as she chopped an onion.

“He stole fireworks from a shop when he was twelve, set them off in the woods outback. Nearly started a forest fire.” She shook her head. “Kid couldn't sit right for a week after Frank was done with him.”

Buck wasn't sure what to say to that, so he opted to move past it completely. “What about when he got older?”

“He was real quiet in high school. Didn't make friends easily. Smart though. Graduated early, but then he got bored. Running around here and there, no steady job, nothing. That's when Frank drove him to the recruiters office in Fresno. Told him he either signed up or pitched him a tent on the street somewhere. He left for basic a couple months before his eighteenth birthday.”

“He was only seventeen?” Buck asked, wide eyed. In all his army stories, Tommy had never mentioned the fact he was seventeen when he joined, and Buck himself had never thought of it as a possibility. He knew he was young, but the idea that Tommy couldn't even vote when he started his career in the military was especially baffling.

“Yup. Frank said it'd be the best thing for him. He was probably right.”

“H- He must've been scared,” Buck said quietly, mostly to himself, but Alice heard.

“Being scared's a part of life,” she replied coldly. “You overcome it, get better for it.” She gathered the onion she had been slicing and took it over to the stove, tossing them into a pan.

There was about a minute of silence before she spoke again. “You really like him, don't you?”

Buck looked up to see her watching him, probably noticing the fact that he still looked worried over everything he'd heard about young Tommy.

He was surprised by the question, but didn't hesitate in his answer. “Yes, Ma'am, I do.”

“Mm.” She turned back to her pan. “That's good, I guess. He's been alone a long time. Needs somebody.”

*****

When it came time for lunch, Buck, Tommy, and Alice ate in the kitchen while Frank opted to stay in the living room. It was a rather quiet lunch, except for when Buck complimented Alice's cooking. She sat up straighter at that, and went into a story about finding ten cookbooks on the side of the road a few weeks before she married Frank. She took them all and spent those weeks teaching herself how to follow along to with the recipes.

The conversation lasted all of five minutes, but it was better than five more minutes spent in awkward silence.

It was almost three by the time lunch was over, but the only way Buck knew that was because Tommy kept glancing at the clock on the wall. He knew what he was doing, checking to see when it was time for them to leave. He knew Tommy couldn't wait to get out of there, and Buck couldn't really blame him.

Tommy excused himself to the restroom as they began to clean up from lunch.

Alice went to go get Frank's dish, but Buck stopped her.

“I'll get it,” he offered innocently.

He didn't see her open her mouth to stop him, already making his way to Frank.

“Can I get you another beer, Mr. Kinard?” Buck asked, picking up the plate from the side table.

Instead of answering, Frank turned his head from the TV to look at Buck, staring him up and down. “Perfect waitress you are,” he grunted out. “I suppose you'll make a good woman for my boy.”

And maybe it was the long drive, or the fact he had no idea what he was walking into when he agreed to come along for this day trip, or the fact he'd been quiet about so many god-awful things that he'd heard, but Buck was at the end of his “just stay silent” rope.

He cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“There's roles in every relationship,” Frank explained poorly. “I worried about my son for a while, but it's good to know he's still the man.”

“Did you not hear him earlier? When he told you there was no woman in our relationship? He seemed pretty clear about that.”

“Eh,” Frank waved him off. “There's a natural order to things. You'll see it soon enough.”

The second Tommy walked out of the bathroom and saw Buck staring down at Frank with a look of pure disgust, he knew something was wrong.

“What did you say, Dad?” he asked.

Buck looked up at him, his expression changing. “Doesn't matter,” he said.

“I said he'll make a good woman for you,” Frank repeated confidently. “He's your little sidekick, helps your mom cook, cleans the kitchen, picks up after the men. May not look the part, but he's close enough.”

There was a look in Tommy's eyes that Buck had never seen before. It was beyond terrifying.

Buck tried to smooth it over. “Tommy, it's-”

“I have spent,” Tommy spoke slowly, staring daggers into his dad, “this entire damn day fixing things that you're just too lazy to fix your damn self. I invited Evan along thinking maybe you'd see how happy we are, maybe you'd notice what a good person he is, and how much better he makes me. I did not bring him here to be mistreated by you."

“See,” Frank smiled up at him. His smile didn't reach the eyes the way Tommy's did. “You're saving your damsel.”

“Evan doesn't need saving. He's perfectly capable of standing up for himself, he's just been too nice to do it because, unlike you, he's not an asshole.”

Frank pointed at Tommy, still not bothering to get out of his chair. “You watch yourself,” he warned. “I was polite enough to let two fairies in my house today. I deserve some respect.”

Buck could see the white, blinding rage taking over Tommy. It took Buck about two seconds to move around and step in front of him, stopping Tommy from advancing on his dad. “Don't,” he said, pressing his hand against Tommy's chest. Tommy's eyes moved from Frank to Evan. Buck could feel his heart pounding. “It's not worth it,” Buck continued. “Let's just go, okay?”

Tommy pursed his lips together, but nodded. “Yeah, I- let's go.”

Thankfully, Frank kept his mouth shut as Buck placed a hand on Tommy's back and led them to the door.

“Wait a minute!” Alice demanded rather loudly.

“Mom-”

“You can sit in your truck,” she clarified, “but wait there. I'll just be a minute.”

Buck was going to offer to drive, but the second they got outside Tommy made a beeline for the driver's seat.

Once the car had been started and they were settled into their seats, Buck took a deep breath. “Tommy-”

“I can't right now, Evan,” Tommy interrupted. He was on edge, hands shaking, leg bouncing up and down as they waited for Alice to come out. “I'm sorry, but I can't.”

“That's fine,” Buck replied. He meant it. He understood what it meant to feel overwhelmed. When you needed a second with your own thoughts to process what just happened.

Buck rolled down the window when Alice came walking out with something in her hands.

Through the window she handed Buck a very old, very worn photo album. “Not sure what all's in there, but I'm sure a few of the pictures have Tommy,” she said. “I haven't looked through it in years. Not like I need it anymore.”

Buck ignored the pain in his heart at her words. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“Mhm.” She looked past him to Tommy. “I'll call you if the fan stops working again. May need you to come back. Probably best you come alone next time.”

Tommy nodded. He cleared his throat, managed a broken, “Yeah, Mom, okay,” before they drove off.

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Prologue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: For those of you who enjoyed “Checkerboard,” here’s the requested prequel series! It’s going to be a long and bumpy road to get to that version of Soldier Boy. Technically this is an AU set post-season 3. [18+ only! This story is rated M.]

Song Inspo: For this story it's "All My Livin Time" by Radio Company! You'll notice it in some of the chapter titles.

Word Count: 2,800Warnings: Violence, character death, bondage (not in the good way).

Prologue:

Well, this fucking sucks.

The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor.

You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you.

Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie.

You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear. 

“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.

Then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.

But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin.

Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Three months ago…

You watched the footage in disbelief.

Soldier Boy managed to grapple Homelander long enough to blast him right out of Vought Tower.

The two of them tangled in a big ball of nuclear light, and the resulting impact into the ground created a tremor throughout New York City. You had felt it even from the Surveillance office of Supe Affairs.

But now, an hour later, you stood at the site of the crash landing. You still couldn’t believe that Homelander’s lifeless body (complete with two suspect bullet holes to the head) was already wrapped up by the CIA.

The body would be destroyed, if Grace Mallory had anything to say about it. Though you knew that Vought would try to claim custody.

They can try, you thought. Grace had briefed you of the situation: Soldier Boy’s strange new power had taken away Homelander’s in the blast. That had allowed Billy Butcher to finish the job.

But as enormous a win as that was for the S.A. (for the world, really), Soldier Boy had unfortunately escaped in the aftermath of the crash. 

You watched Butcher’s team being treated by paramedics. They all seemed to be in good spirits, considering. Talking and laughing through their bloody cuts and bruises. Butcher seemed the most contemplative, maybe because his nine-year vendetta had finally come to a close.

But you knew, even with this victory, their troubles were far from over.

Mother’s Milk snapped back at something Frenchie said, but when he looked up and caught you staring, you looked over pointedly at the massive crater in the ground. His lips thinned into a determined line.

Soldier Boy’s still out there.

You took a break from staring at the double surveillance screens at your work desk to answer your cell phone.

“Hey, Yvette. How’s it going?” you said, smiling.

“Oh, good. Just clinging to a sinking ship,” she said wryly. “My department’s down to two people.”

Your eyes widened. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. In customer service? Is Vought insane?”

Yvette was the only friend you still talked to from your time at Vought. Though the two of you had been in different departments, they’d been on the same floor in the tower.

“Company shares have dropped into the toilet after…well, Homelander,” she explained. “Somehow I made it through the preliminary mass layoffs. But they want us to operate on a damn skeleton crew with no support.”

You bit your lip in sympathy. “You’re looking for another job, right?”

“Of course,” said Yvette. Her tone was hushed, and you heard her underlying worry. “Chris and I can barely afford Devon’s private school as it is. We won’t be able to renew for next year if I lose my job.”

You frowned. Her son Devon was in elementary school, a bright kid. But unlike his wealthy classmates, he’d gotten into the school on a partial scholarship. That alone was enough to single him out among the other families (even the kids, unfortunately).

“Do you want me to see if there’s anything for you here at the S.A.?” you asked. “I make an excellent reference.”

As in, you’d track down whatever department was hiring and talk them around until they agreed to look at Yvette’s resume, if for no other reason than to shut you up.

“That would be great,” she said with a sigh. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Of course!” you agreed.

Yvette had been one of the few people to actually support you after you left Vought. After that, she’d cemented a place in your life from “work friend” to something real, and as honest as you’d let yourself be in a long time.

When the phone on your work desk started to ring, you let out a sigh.

“Sorry, Yvette. I’m getting another call.”

“No problem. Still coming for dinner on Friday? I finally talked Chris into making his arroz con gandules. And in honor of you, I’m making pain patate. My grandma's recipe, if I might add.”

“Oooh, excellent,” you said, already mentally rubbing your hands together. Yvette was Haitian, married to a Puerto Rican man. Both were ridiculously great cooks, and had been teaching you their ways in the kitchen for the past few years.

Before you became friends with Yvette, you could barely boil an egg. Your mother, bless her, wasn’t the best cook. So you and your sister had survived mainly on boxed meals growing up...mainly on Hamburger Helper and the like, if you were honest.

But you were a quick student, according to your friend. You could even make baked macaroni from scratch now.

“I’ll definitely be there,” you said. “See ya then!”

You hung up your cell and picked up your work phone just as it was about to stop ringing.

“Surveillance department,” you answered.

You positioned the phone between your ear and your shoulder and checked on the surveillance cameras you were monitoring. Nothing was amiss (yet), but you were watching in case a telekinetic went off the rails on her next drug bust.

There had been reports of this particular supe being too careless with her arrests, even putting a teenager into a full body cast after flinging him off a second-story building.

But you were only half-shaken out of your thoughts when a woman greeted you on the line.

“Can you come up to my office please?” she said.

“Who’s this?” you asked distractedly.

“Grace Mallory.”

You paused. Oh shit.

The head boss lady of this whole operation was on your phone, and she wanted to see you.

“Uh…yes, ma’am,” you said. “Right now?”

“…Yeah. Right now,” she said dryly. And she hung up on you.

You heaved a sigh as you also hung up the phone at your desk. Your manager (and the head of S.A. Surveillance) was already working your team over time.

And for some reason, Grace Mallory wanted to have a little chit chat.

You didn’t know why she singled you out, but you had a handful of guesses. All of them were making your stomach churn.

You popped your head out of your cubicle and leaned over to the one next to yours.

“Hey Jess, I need you to cover for me for a bit,” you told your coworker. Jess didn’t have as much experience as you, but she was solid at her job and you could count on her to handle things while you were gone for a bit. The blonde smiled and bobbed her head.

“Okie! No problem, friend,” she said.

Her bubbliness grated on your psyche a bit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her either. It wasn’t her fault the world hadn’t kicked her in the ass yet.

You nodded and went up to Grace’s office, where she welcomed you in and asked you to sit down in the plush chair in front of her rather large mahogany desk.

It was leagues above your small, plain gray cubicle, but you supposed these were the kinds of things that came with being the head of the operation.

The S.A. was now strictly her domain, following the clusterfuck of Victoria Neuman departing the organization to join Robert Singer’s presidential campaign.

“What can I do for you, Grace?” you asked.

The other woman gave you a patient, if knowing look. “I think you know why I asked you here.”

“Can’t say that I do,” you replied, tight-lipped.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, the manhunt for Soldier Boy is now this organization’s top priority,” she began. “I’d like to recruit you, beyond surveillance. I want to put you in the field.”

You were already shaking your head before she’d finished speaking. You’d been happily sitting at a desk for a year now.

“I don’t think I’m qualified, ma’am.”

She gave a small huff of a laugh. “I beg to differ.”

You shifted in your seat, impatient and uncomfortable, as she folded her pale hands on her desk.

“Before you joined Supe Affairs last year, you were a private investigator…on Vought’s payroll,” she said. “I promise, you will have even more resources at your disposal. And my full support.”

“You’re CIA,” you said, hiding your nervousness. “Why do you need me?”

For a moment, Grace just stared at you. Her head tilted just so, lips pursing.

“Because this is an all-hands-on-fucking-deck situation. I need every single body I can throw at this,” she said, her blue eyes unyielding. “I’ve seen your track record. Here at the S.A., your years at Vought, and before. When you worked at your father’s firm.”

Your spine tightened at the mention of your father, but you forced yourself to relax.

“You get results,” Grace continued. “And I think you’ll do well working with Butcher’s team.”

Your eyes widened.

“Billy Butcher?” you repeated. “Oh, hell no. I’m not working with that crazy bastard…with all due respect, ma’am.”

You lowered your eyes in embarrassment.

You’d only worked in Surveillance for the past year, but you’d often heard Victoria Neuman’s bitching to Hughie Campbell down the hall—especially in the break room.

“I understand your reservations, believe me,” Grace said wryly. “But he’s the one who found Soldier Boy in Siberia, after forty years of him being presumed dead.”

“In part, thanks to you,” you couldn’t help pointing out…maybe a bit too petulantly to a high-ranking CIA agent.

Grace’s lips thinned even further, but after she considered you a moment longer, she relaxed with a slight smile.  

“I think you’ll fit in just fine,” she said.

You let out a deep breath. After Hughie clued you in on Victoria Neuman being an undercover supe, you’d laid low at the S.A., waiting for the right time to quit. After Neuman left the organization, and Homelander’s death, you’d actually thought it was safe enough to stay. 

You’d left Vought for several reasons, all of them good ones…

“What if I don’t want the job?” you asked.

Grace tapped a finger on her desk. “As I understand, you have a younger sister.”

Your lips pulled into a frown, your shoulders tightening. Your family had nothing to do with this. Was this the part where the CIA agent threatened you in order to get her way?

“Why do you ask?”

Grace raised a brow.

“I know exactly what Vought was paying you for your exclusivity clause. Which was then rescinded when you began working for Supe Affairs,” she said.

“They kept approximately six months of your backpay on ongoing assignments, and even tried to sue you for breach of contract when you gave Neuman your intel on their supes. Drugs, prostitutes, the whole gambit.”

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair; you saw her game now.

“You tried to fight back in the courts, but the earnings that once sustained you have since dried up," she added, and with a nod, "Yes, I checked your bank statements.”

You were affronted at the breach of your privacy, but you weren’t exactly surprised.

“Our American justice system at work,” you snipped. Grace smiled.

“I’m prepared to double their fee,” she said. “As I understand it, your sister Luisa is a gifted girl. First chair violinist. Auditions for Julliard lined up for next month. Tuition increases every year.”

And that was when you faltered. You still didn’t think hunting after the world’s most wanted ex-superhero was a smart decision. Not even for money…but damn this Mallory. Damn the CIA and Vought, Neuman, Stan Edgar, and everyone in between!

Julliard was your sister’s dream. For the entirety of her senior year, you’d been wracking your brain (and your pitiful savings) trying to find a way to give it to her.

Your mom was a hospital receptionist making barely enough to support herself. As it was, you were supporting Luisa financially.

Since the two of you were kids, you’d done your best to protect your sister. To be the one she could always count on when your mom just…couldn’t.

But still. Making this deal with Grace felt a bit too much like making that deal with Vought five years ago. And look at how that had come to bite you in the ass.

“I don’t think—” you started to say.

“Up front,” Mallory said.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’ll get double your fee, up front,” she said. “Then you’ll get triple if Soldier Boy is caught and brought back into U.S. custody, or eliminated in the field.”

Dead or alive…

You knew what this decision meant for you.

Grace Mallory was Don Corleone, making you an offer. Could you afford to refuse?

After a beat to think, you drummed your nails on the chair’s arm and looked up at Grace decisively.

“You mean when he’s caught.”

Somewhere in South America…

Soldier Boy was having a great fucking time.

Thoroughly debauched, he’d rented out an entire casino for his 101st birthday. Bottomless drinks, drugs, whores, and poker. Didn’t get much better than that, in his (literally) high opinion.

Until a bullet ripped through his champagne glass.

The fuck. He glanced up and watched the unit of military personnel line up around all four floors of the casino. If his nose was mistaken (and it never was), most of these guys were hopped up on V. It smelled like the temporary stuff.

Good fucking job, Wannabe President Singer, he thought.

The group of women that had been hanging out at his table had already fled, save for one cowering at his feet when the first shot rang out. She was a thin blonde with big Bette Davis eyes, but she was much easier on said eyes than that fucking broad had been.

Soldier Boy grabbed the girl up off the floor, like the dead weight she was, and gave her his room key.

“If you make it outta here, catch me at my place, would ya?” he told her, though his attention was on the guns surrounding him. She took the key with shaking hands and looked up at him. He spared her a glance.

“I’d go now, if I were you. Things are about to get fuckin' crispy.”

And that was when they tossed the tear gas.

The futile sniping began, tearing through his new silk suit but bouncing harmlessly off his skin. The girl screamed and cowered under the table.

Soldier Boy snapped off a roulette wheel from a nearby table and tossed it like a frisbee at the closest guns. The tear gas was just making him want to sneeze.

But he smirked and rolled his neck. Here we go...

By the end, Soldier Boy was the only one standing. And that included the casino. It was a mess of broken wood, overturned tables, and the blood and bodies of soldiers, staff, gambling patrons, and Bette Davis Eyes under the table.

Straightening his ruined blazer, he stepped out the back of the casino and disappeared into the dark.

On the only table left standing was a hand-written note, pinned down with a steak knife:

Try harder.

S. B.

AN: Well, then. 😂 I can say this is a very different story than I'm used to writing, but I couldn't not explore Soldier Boy. 😏

Let me know what you think of this little intro!

Keep Reading: PART 1

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0

[lurkingshan]

Love Sea Final Thoughts

I have been trying to wrap my head around my overall feelings about Love Sea, a show that is undeniably flawed but somehow charming anyway, that drops so many threads but does such a good job with a few of its core points that it's hard to be mad. I can't really say that this is a great drama, but I can say that I enjoyed it a lot and I think it's a good watch if you go in understanding some caveats.

Let's start with a few things I really loved about this show:

Mahasamut. A great character, he will be going on my shortlist of Thai bl favorites. He's smart, honest, patient, giving and forgiving but he also knows himself, his limits, and his worth. On top of all that, he actually looks like a normal person, with a healthy body weight and beautiful imperfect skin. So rare in dramas.

Smart class dynamics. I appreciated how much this show grounded Mut and Rak's relationship in their class disparity, how wealth and lack of same was a constant issue between them that was never forgotten, and how its effect on their power dynamic shifted over time as their relationship grew.

Very well-executed sex scenes. The sex in this show is tied to character development and relationship arcs, and every sex scene mattered to the story. We watched the shifting power dynamics between Mut and Rak play out via the sex they had together and by watching their intimacy we learned more about them.

Ridiculous chemistry. The main love story was supported by truly excellent emotional and sexual chemistry. I always believed in the attraction and the feelings between these two, and that helped a lot when the story didn't quite take me where it needed to.

Rak and Vie's friendship. I really loved that we spent time with these two as besties, and that they were genuinely so supportive of each other. Vie was a real MVP in kicking Rak's ass when he needed it.

Meena, the best child ever. What a delightful character who brought a lot of fun and lightness to the story. Her scenes with Mut were a true highlight.

And here are some things that didn't quite work for me:

Uneven focus for the main characters. Once we left the island to go to Bangkok, the entire show was about Rak, his backstory, his issues, his ongoing problems, and his needs, and Mut was kind of subsumed in his story instead of having one of his own. I was glad we got back to Mut's life at the end, but they really should have kept it present throughout so everything didn't feel so one-sided.

Shallow engagement with family trauma. And despite the fact that the story was so much about Rak's issues, the story never actually went deep on them. I still don't really understand a lot about his family dynamics. The show used his dad and cousin as villains and then his mom as an easy out to solve everything at the end, but we never dug into how all these people ended up this way in the first place. It was a real missed opportunity.

Rak's emotional journey. I was on board for much of it, but other parts felt a bit haphazard and all over the place. Sometimes it felt like he was suddenly progressing out of nowhere, and others it felt like he was backsliding just because the plot demanded it. I liked where the story took him a lot but the path to get there was pretty bumpy.

The side couple. WOOF. I have no idea what happened here, but that was a fail on just about every front. Mook was a hard character to love from the start, Vie felt like a completely different person with Mook than in all her other scenes, there was so much lying and manipulation for no good reason, and in the end they were left completely unresolved. If you are on the lookout for great gl pairings, you will not find that here.

So there you have it. This show is absolutely a mixed bag on its execution, so how much you end up liking it will probably depend on how strongly you connect with what it did well and where it dropped the ball. For me, it was a good experience and one I'll remember fondly. I'll definitely be watching the special when it's released and I hope to see this cast again.

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 20A: I Don't Need Nothing When I'm By Your Side

So hold me close, better hang on tight Buckle up, baby, it's a bumpy ride We're two kids hitching down the road of life Our world, our fight

-- “Born To Be My Baby,” Bon Jovi (1988) [click here to listen]

North Carolina || February 1989

Jamie frowned, looking back and forth between the shelf he’d just put together and the three unpacked boxes of books (two marked CLAIRE, one marked JAMIE).

Would she like them organized alphabetically by author? Genre? Size?

He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Or perhaps she wanted medical books in her workroom? And maybe he could put his music books on the cabinet in his studio –

“There you are.”

He hadn’t heard Claire pad into the room – at some point they would need to get throw rugs to protect the gorgeous old hardwood floors – and smiled as she effortlessly stepped into his embrace.

They held each other for a long moment – his lips against her hair, her face buried in the safety of his neck.

Almost three months since the acoustic tour had ended, the night before Claire’s birthday. About six weeks since they had closed on their dream house, nestled against a mountain in the forests of North Carolina, not too far from The Ridge. And about two weeks since the items in storage – from her packed-up apartment in Boston, and his packed-up house in Los Angeles – had arrived.

The property had everything they needed. Privacy and solitude, of course. An old barn that they were using as a garage for Jamie’s motorcycle and cars. The house – an old cabin, really, dating from the 1800s and which had been lovingly expanded over the years – was perfect. A spacious living room, complete with the original stone fireplace. An eat-in kitchen, with newly replaced appliances. Two small rooms off the back that were now his music studio and her workroom – spaces to pursue their interests. A modestly-sized master bedroom. And a small extra bedroom – which for now was for guests, though God willing would be a nursery very soon.

Claire had insisted on doing two things quickly, before spending their time unpacking all the boxes.

The first was to hang his six gold and two platinum records in his studio – and he agreed, after he had hung her framed medical school diploma on the wall of her workroom.

The second was to install the fax machine on the bare floor of the studio – which, together with the phone, was their only link to the outside world.

For as much as they isolated themselves in this beautiful, peaceful place – the world pushed along without them.

In March, they would leave for L.A. and three weeks of rehearsals with the band. Maybe play a few small gigs in clubs on the Sunset Strip – Jamie had always wanted to do that. And in April, they’d fly to Europe, and kick off the tour that had swelled to 120 dates and stretched into 1990.

Colum was busier than ever – finalizing logistics, negotiating with local promoters, running interference with the suits from the label, upgrading the concerts from arenas to soccer stadiums. He had a conference call with the band every Tuesday – with Ian calling in from Lallybroch in upstate New York, and Angus from various resort spots in Mexico and the Caribbean (“I can’t believe Charlotte and Molly haven’t worn him out yet,” Jamie had mused to Claire one day. She had only shrugged and said, “they take care of each other”). Colum would always have a punchlist of decisions for the band – OK to book studio time during the week off in Scandinavia in July? The roadies couldn’t figure out the pyro setup without the band, OK to wait until rehearsals? They would need to film at least three music videos, which one could be a live performance? – and follow up with decisions in a fax sent later that day.

Jamie had been clear with Colum that he had three conditions for the tour: that Claire would be with him, that Raymond would be traveling with the band, and that the same no alcohol/drugs/groupies rule from the acoustic tour would carry through to this tour. Of course Colum had agreed. Just as he’d agreed to make provisions for Jenny to periodically fly out to visit Ian, and for Angus to always have a suite with two bathrooms to keep his girlfriends happy.

Claire and Jamie knew that this tour would be difficult, for so many different reasons. But they would be better prepared this time, to draw strength from each other, and to have Raymond for support. And maybe, just maybe they would return home from Europe with the best souvenir of all…

“Another fax from Colum,” Claire murmured after a long while.

Jamie snorted against her hair. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.”

“I do admire how hard he’s working for you and for the band. And how much he’s keeping all of you in the loop on the decisions he’s making. He doesn’t want any surprises.”

“I’d imagine not. The amount of bullshit he has to be putting up with right now must be insane. I just hope he doesn’t crack.”

“He never said if he’s bringing Tricia on the tour.” Tricia – Colum’s wife of more than ten years. She stood a head taller than her husband, still impossibly beautiful in her late thirties, smiling for every frown on her husband’s face. Claire had only met her once – couldn’t say she really knew her – but she knew enough about her.

How she had first met Colum at a party in 1970, when he was a roadie for Led Zeppelin and she was part of a gaggle of groupies that held court at the Riot House in L.A.

How, when she and her girlfriends joined the Led Zep tour the following summer, he had punched out the lighting guy at the Cow Palace in San Francisco when he heard the guy didn’t understand what Tricia meant by saying “no”.

How Geordie Ash – the reporter who had put Jamie (and, in a way, Claire) on the map last year with that Rolling Stone article – had sent flowers to her hotel room every day for a month during Led Zeppelin’s 1973 U.S. tour. Not knowing, of course, that she was allergic to lilies – or how Colum, who knew more about her by that point than he cared to admit, had wordlessly disposed of them for her, every day that month.

“I don’t think she likes to tour.” Jamie’s thumb traced lazy circles on the skin of Claire’s back. “Too many bad memories.”

If you asked any rock journalist or musician who had found Alex MacGregor – assistant to Led Zeppelin manager Peter Grant – dead in his Seattle hotel room in the spring of 1975, they would all say quite confidently that it had been Colum Laird, who by that point had advanced to lead Zeppelin’s touring crew.

But a handful of people – Peter Grant, and Colum, and Jamie, and now Claire – knew the truth.

Tricia woke up, Alex cold beside her in bed, a needle in his arm. The only thing she knew to do was slip quietly down the hall, tumbling into Colum’s room…and finally, his arms. Where she had remained ever since.

“I couldn’t imagine being away from you for so long.” Claire sighed. “I don’t know how they make it work.”

Jamie shrugged. “They love each other very deeply. They fixed the broken pieces in each other. And now she has the two boys to keep her busy.” He kissed her forehead. “Something for us to aspire to, perhaps. What’s in the fax?”

She held it out for him to read. Sharing a smile at Colum’s scrawl.

J+C: I’m not calling because I interrupted enough moments between you on tour and I’ll probably do it again this year. I don’t have Raymond’s info pls have him get in touch so we have a copy of his credentials and the travel agent can make all arrangements for Europe. I got the label to foot the bill for his travel meals and hotels, convinced them it’s a business expense, you’re welcome. Stay out of trouble. Colum.

“We’ll have him give Colum a call after he arrives this afternoon,” Jamie mused, folding the fax and sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Claire nodded. “The guest room is all ready. And I’m glad Dougal and Gillian and William will be here tomorrow – I’m so happy they’re so close by.”

Jamie squeezed her shoulder, and released her. “As am I. Now, I have a question for you about these books…”

[officialcharactersimp]

Playdate

(Graduation Gift Part 6)

Summary: (can be found on my masterlist under series) Natasha invites Wanda over to see you. When you’re left alone with Wanda, she makes good on a deal she made with Nat. >:)

A/N: So like. Listen. I know. I know. It’s been 2 years. I wrote this piece like a year ago. And this is NOT DONE. It’s NOT GREAT. Y’all voted for the rough edges version. Maybe I’ll edit or polish it later on. Also. I was getting a little gratuitous with Wanda using too many petnames and so I’ve used A SINGULAR PRONOUN for the first time in this series’ history. If I find a way to change it later to remove it I will. It’s they, by the way.

WC: 2.9k (wtf??)

CW: 18+ only, minors dni; series is dark but this is only mildly dark; reader is being kept in Nat's basement but they're like. fine with it??; smut; mommy milkers make mommy milk; cgl themes; sharing partners; dubcon; Wanda uses her powers to manipulate reader; mean Wanda (but only a little, as a treat); Wanda calls reader mutt, pup, etc; threesome; oral (R receiving); Wanda uses magic sexually on reader; no proper ending, sorry

“Baby, mommy needs to talk to you,” Natasha says, muting the TV. You turn to look at her expectantly, face as angelic as ever. She smiles. “Good baby. Now, mommy wants to have a friend of hers over,” she says.

“Upstairs?” you ask, confused. She’s had people over to the house for meetings before—why is she asking you?

“No baby, downstairs, in here,” she says, opening her arms for you to come sit on her lap. You do so, searching for comfort as the idea causes unease. “Oh, baby, it’s okay, don’t worry. She’s very nice.”

“But…” you fiddle with the hem of her shirt for a moment before bringing your thumb to your mouth and looking down.

“She already knows about you, baby,” she practically reads your mind. “She’s the one that helped mommy start making milk for you,” she hums.

“Someone knows?” you’re surprised and… something else you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Yes, baby. My best friend Wanda. We work together and she helps make it so I can stay home with you,” she taps the end of your nose, earning a small smile. “You know mommy doesn’t want to keep you down here all alone and locked up forever, don’t you?” she asks. It’s only half-true, but you nod anyways. “This is how we start, okay?” you nod again.

—

“Baby, I’m here with Wanda!” you hear Natasha’s voice as the lock clicks and the door opens. You get up on your knees at the end of the bed and wait for her with your arms up.

“Mommy!” you greet her with a happy exclamation. She chuckles and goes to help you out of the bed, but you cling to her instead, hiding your face from the brunette standing near.

“Aww, feeling a bit shy, are we?” Wanda’s voice is kind enough as she reaches out, patting your back gently. You flinch a little and Natasha instantly hushes you, rubbing your back where Wanda had touched you to soothe you.

“We’re just a little nervous,” Natasha says for you. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen anybody but mommy, huh?” she asks. You nod against her.

She carries you over to the couch and sits with you on her lap, Wanda sitting on the other end. Natasha turns your head to face her and you examine your guest with your eyes, deep in thought. You notice she’s holding a stuffed animal in your favorite color. She sees your eyes land on it and smiles warmly.

“Hi there,” she says. “Your mommy said this was your favorite color,” you nod to confirm. “I thought it might be nice for you to hold,” she holds it out to you and you look to Natasha, who nods, before taking it. You pull it close, finally unwrapping yourself a little from Natasha.

“That’s so precious!” Natasha says, looking at the toy in your hands. “What do we say, baby?”

“Thank you,” you say shyly, unable to meet her eye. She smiles anyways.

“I’m glad you like it,” she says. “You gonna give it a name?”

“He’s gonna be called Dots,” you say, running your hand over the bumpy dotted texture of the toy’s fur.

“Dots. That’s a good name,” she says. You smile a little. “I know you’ve been down here for awhile with just you and mommy, right?” she asks. You nod. “What do you like to do together?”

“Um… I like it when we watch cartoons or play with my toys together,” you say slowly. “Mommy makes the best voices for my toys,” you smile. “And I like bath time, too, or when mommy lets me do her makeup. We do all sorts of stuff,” you tell her, smiling at Natasha, who brushes some hair out of your face.

“That sounds awesome, little one,” Wanda says. The petname sounds nice from her lips, making you smile bashfully.

The conversation drifts slowly to the two of them talking about work, occasionally making jokes to include you. You eventually grow comfortable enough to uncurl from your tiny ball on Natasha’s lap to sitting on her normally, playing with Dots and half-listening.

“You okay, Natty?” Wanda asks, and you look to your mommy to see her shifting a little.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Looks like we’re just a little late for milkies time,” she looks at you. “Feeling hungry, little baby?” she asks. You nod; you’ve been ignoring it in the hopes that Wanda would leave before it got unbearable. “Come on then,” she unbuttons her shirt some and unclips her bra on one side.

“But mommy—“ you glance at Wanda.

“It’s okay, baby. Don’t you trust mommy?” she asks. You nod slowly and let her guide you into position, your legs ending up on Wanda’s lap, who gently rubs her thumb on your shin. You squirm a little.

“Behave, baby. Don’t you want mommy’s milkies?” she asks. You nod, cheeks flushed. “Then be good,” she says firmly, guiding your head to her chest. You latch on a little less eagerly than usual, trying to ignore Wanda’s presence and touch. It’s easier with Natasha running her fingers through your hair, humming softly, but not so much as you feel Wanda’s eyes on the two of you like a hawk.

You’re inevitably slipping down into your uninhibited littlespace by the time you switch to her other side, grunting gently when the milk doesn’t flow at first and grabbing onto Natasha. She chuckles and hushes you, adjusting herself to help you in your efforts.

“Easy now,” she soothes.

“How precious,” Wanda coos gently, reaching over to brush your hair out of the way so she can see you better. You can’t flinch without letting go of Natasha’s chest, so you let it happen. She takes the liberty and strokes the back of her finger down your cheek softly.

“Isn’t my baby just the sweetest thing?” Natasha brags, “Come closer, Wans, it’s alright. A lot tamer with your mommy’s milk in you, hm?” Natasha speaks the last part to you as she pats the cushion next to her for Wanda to sit. They both move you as needed for her to get closer, your butt now in the virtual stranger’s lap and her arm resting on your stomach. You whine and look up at Natasha, about to pull away to protest.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re doing a good job,” Natasha holds you fast against her with a gentle hand and even gentler praises. “You trust me, and I trust Wanda. You’re okay. Just drink your milkies,” she placates you easily. You settle back into an edgy comfort and let yourself be held, trying to stay in your big headspace and failing miserably.

“That’s a good baby,” Natasha says as she both sees and feels the resistance leave you. When you finally pull off, she smiles at the little dribble on your chin and wipes it with her thumb before pressing it into your mouth. “Mommy’s got you,” she assures you as your eyes half-close, sucking on her thumb automatically. She coos softly at you.

“Such a good baby,” Wanda muses as she looks on.

“That’s right,” Natasha says proudly, making you blush a little. “See little one, Wanda’s not so scary, is she?” she asks you sweetly. You nod a little bit, earning a satisfied hum. “That’s my baby.”

“My mommy,” you say around her thumb, reaching up to touch her face. Her heart melts at the gesture and she leans down to kiss your forehead.

The tender moment is interrupted as Natasha’s phone rings. She pulls it out of her pocket, looks at it a moment, and then sighs deeply.

“I have to take this,” she says with reluctance. “Go to Wanda, baby,” Natasha pushes you fully into her friend’s lap despite your whimpering protests. Wanda’s arms wrap around you easily and hold you to her as you wiggle, reaching for your mommy to no avail.

“I’ll be as quick as I can, baby,” Natasha assures you, tilting your chin up and kissing you before going upstairs. You look at Wanda with wide eyes in silence for a moment.

“It’s alright, don’t worry,” Wanda speaks first. “Your mommy will be back soon, and she’s only upstairs at any rate.”

You keep staring at her mutely.

“This must be pretty new and scary, huh? And I can tell you’re feeling pretty little, too. But don’t worry, I’ve got you,” she says, voice warm and soothing. “Do you want to watch some cartoons? I know you like that,” she suggests. You nod. “Okay, cartoons it is,” she reaches for the remote and turns on the TV.

You ease considerably with the cartoons on, sucking on your thumb and cuddling Dots close. Wanda holds you and watches passively, wondering what’s taken Nat away so suddenly. She’s so excited to finally be meeting you, too, but trying not to scare you off with her eagerness.

“Want mommy,” you mumble after awhile. It’s rare for Natasha to leave you when you’re in your littlespace, and you are very much disliking it.

“I know, little one. I’m sure she’ll be back just as quick as she can. It won’t be long now,” Wanda assures you once again. She pulls out her own phone to shoot Natasha a text. It has been awhile…

Only about a bit more now. How’s my little baby? she responds.

Missing you, but mostly okay. We’re watching cartoons. I don’t know how long it’ll last though… Wanda informs her

What we talked about before is still on the table. Wanda glances up at you, oblivious, then looks down again.

Are you sure it won’t mess everything up? I haven’t made much headway in the trust department…

It’ll be fine, Wans. My dumb little baby can’t resist feeling good. Natasha’s words make Wanda go red and she shoots another glance at you. Luckily, you’ve still yet to notice.

Alright then. See you soon.

Wanda puts her phone away and turns her attention back to you. You’re babbling to Dots and pointing to the TV, as if trying to explain it to him. It’s absolutely adorable. Wanda watches sneakily, not wanting to interrupt and ruin the moment of pure innocence and cuteness.

“Right mommy—“ when you turn and remember it’s Wanda, not your mommy, who’s holding you, your bottom lip begins to tremble.

“Oh, no no no, baby, it’s okay, don’t cry little one,” Wanda rushes to soothe you, holding you closer and rocking you a little bit. “It’s okay, she’ll be back in just a few minutes, she told me so,” she tells you. You calm a tiny bit at that. “She even told me what to do while we wait for her.”

“R-really?” you sniff.

“Mhm,” Wanda hums, one hand coming down to rest on your tummy.

“What’d she say?” you ask, squirming on her lap a little. You’re feeling tingly, like how Natasha often makes you feel.

“Well, she said she worried your pretty parts might need some attention, and she said I can help you, since you’re just a little baby who doesn’t know how,” Wanda tells you soothingly.

“M-mommy said that?” you ask, trying to ignore the growing sensations in your lower half.

“Yup. She cares about you being comfortable and happy so much that she said I can help you instead of her,” Wanda says with a smile. “Isn’t that nice of her? You’re lucky, little one.”

“Mhm, mommy’s nice,” you say, struggling to put together the logical thoughts in your head that would can tell you what’s going on here.

“Aw, don’t think too much, little one,” Wanda coos, her other hand coming o to the side of your head and stroking your temple. As she smooths the hair there, it feels like she’s smoothing your thoughts, too. Little do you know she really is, but she figures what you don’t know won’t hurt you, right?

“When’s mommy coming back? I need her,” you say, a little dazed.

“Why’s that, precious?” she asks sweetly.

“I’m at all tingly. I don’t like it,” you squirm.

“I can help with that, little one,” her voice is like honey. “Just relax for me, okay? Wanda’s se gonna take care of you,” shepulls down your shorts and underwear, exposing your sensitive area to the air. You whine a little.like

“‘s cold,” you complain.

“I’ve got you,” soon Wanda’s warm hand has moved from your tummy down to cup your mound, quieting you. She reaches down further and starts slowly encircling your most sensitive bundle of nerves, making you sigh softly in relief. Something starts to poke at your entrance but you don’t know what.

“What’s that?” you ask, looking down. You see the hand between your legs encircled with glowing red tendrils.

“It’s alright, little one. It’s just magic, like I used on your mommy before. It’s perfectly safe. And it’ll feel really good,” she says, slowly filling your hole. You whimper softly at the stretch as her fingers continue to work your clit. “How’s that?”

“Good,” you breathe, opening your legs more. She smiles.

“That’s a good little baby, spread those legs nice and wide for me,” you heed her suggestion, letting them fall open to give her more access. “Perfect.”

She gracefully works up to a rhythm that has you whimpering softly with each thrust, clutching tightly to Dots. The hand at your temple moves down, allowing her thumb to play at your lower lip. You open your mouth eagerly, wanting to take it into your mouth, but she doesn’t let you. She simply teases your lip while your mouth hangs open, panting heavily.

“So damn precious,” she says, her voice husky. She leans over to see your hole clenching around red-tinted nothingness and bites her lip. “Feeling good, little one?”

“S-so good, Wanda,” you stutter, twisting and panting.

“Look at you, panting like a little doggie. Is that what you are? Are you a dumb little pup for me?”

“I-I-“ you don’t know how to react. Her words are nothing like Natasha’s, but they’re making your body feel the same way. You give a small whimper of confusion.

“Aw, too dumb to even know what you are,” she says with mock sympathy. “It’s okay, good puppies like you don’t need to think, just let me do it for you for now,” her voice is soft again.

“I-I can’t-“ you gasp, somehow feeling overstimulated before you’ve even had a single orgasm.

“You can. Be a good pup for me,” she encourages sweetly.

The door opens and you both look over to see Natasha at the door, who grins at the sight before her. She quickly comes to your side, smiling at Wanda and exchanging a few looks before looking down at you. She smooths some hair out of your face.

“Mommy!” you whine loudly, one hand leaving Dots to clutch at hers. You hold it to your sweaty face, her touch cooling, and whimper as you lean into it.

“Aww, looks like you and Wanda are getting along just fine,” she says. “You’re being such a good baby for Mommy’s friend. Do you feel good?”

“Yes mommy, feels so good, so good—can’t th-th-“ you whine desperately.

“Dumb little mutt can’t handle what I’ve got to give,” Wanda chides. “But they’re trying nonetheless,” she shifts you around on her lap so Natasha has an unobstructed view of your cunt as she uses her powers to press into your every crevice.

“Isn’t that a sight,” she breaths softly, getting her face in close. “Move your finger. I wanna taste my baby,” she instructs. Wanda obliges, focusing fully on her magic while Natasha begins licking and sucking at your clit harshly.

“Mommy!” you cry out. “Mommy, Wanda, I can’t, I can’t—“

“You’ll take what’s given to you like the good little slut you are,” Wanda cuts you off firmly, a particularly hard thrust punctuating it. “If you come nice and pretty for us, maybe we’ll be nice and give you a rest,” she says. You glance down to Natasha between your legs.

“Yes, baby, you can come. Come for us, all over me,” she pauses to say before diving back in.

It feels like her and Wanda have just increased their efforts by tenfold, making you cry out even louder than before, tongue hanging out as you pant heavily. It’s all too much—you can’t last much longer like this.

“Please!” you whine.

“Come on, you can do it baby,” Wanda says softly, encouraging you over the edge. “Be good and make a mess for us.”

The coil in your body snaps at that and your back arches as you scream, lifting your torso up off of Wanda’s lap as your hips buck.

“That’s it, that’s it baby, so good for us, for mommy and Wanda,” Natasha is your beside you in seconds, kissing your face and rubbing your tummy soothingly. You whimper softly at her kisses and your body calms down enough to return to Wanda’s lap. She too is praising you, petting your head in reassurance. Tears brim in your eyes and threaten to fall, but Natasha catches them.

“It’s okay baby, mommy’s got you now, we both do,” Natasha soothes. “You’re alright now, you did so good.”

“Did good?” you repeat hazily.

“So good,” Wanda confirms.

to be continued…

And that’s it, I’m sorry. If I don’t post it right now as it is I’m just not going to do it again.

read the rest of grad gift here

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

The Garden

Chapter One

❥Prince!Park Seonghwa x fem reader

☆ feat. ateez, tomorrow x together, and others

➯a/n: i've had this idea in the drafts for a very long time and it's gone through a million iterations of characters and love interests and something about hwa in the skirt and sword clicked in my brain. i'm still recovering but this idea hit me hard and fast so i decided i'd put something out. i promise i'll stop starting new stories 😭 (shoutout to my gf again for helping this come to life)

✃"I will give you the happy ending you've always wanted."

✫彡wordcount: 2.7k

(✯◡✯)genre: historical fantasy au, drama

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of violence, anxiety, and loved ones passing, briefly proof read

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

𖢌

I hope this letter has found you well.

   The wheels crunch the gravel road. Horses hooves clap against the ground loudly. The waves crash just feet way. The sounds echo through the carriage.

I know it's short notice.

    The sun is casting down from a clear sky. The grass is healthy, green and lush. The ocean is vast and blue, foam from the waves clings to the pure white sand.

Taedemere is in jeopardy. We are at war. Lord Hwang declared it silently.

  It was a bumpy ride. A long one. But you don't seem to mind. You keep your sisters entertained and keep your brothers minds off of the impending war. Doing so, you can almost manage to distract yourself from your own future.

He's already posted spies. Spies in the castle. Gods knows how long they've been here.

  "The dragon fell from the tower. It's shrieks echoed through the kingdom!" You read with enthusiasm, looking at the twins who look back with wide eyes.

It's not safe for them here. We had to sneak them away through the tunnels.

  "Did the prince kill it?!" Seunghee asks, holding tight to your skirt. "He must have," Soojun is entranced by the story, "right?"

There was an attempt on my life. An attempt on the girls in the garden. Another on Kai and (Y/n). They are everywhere.

  You launch forward and scream, spooking the girls back into Kais leg. He's holding back a laugh as he pats their heads. "The dragon soars up from the fog, the princes sword still lodged into its scaly side!"

They are threatening us with no words at all. Lord Hwang is coming for the Taedemere crown.

   "Must you scare them with such stories?" Yeonjun sighs as he tugs the young girls back up to the seat, sandwiching himself between them and his brother.

You must forgive our absence. I have to keep the crown secure until we have a more solidified plan.

   You simply ignore him, "the creature perches itself on the ledge, it's jaws reach for the prince. He backs into the wall and draws his dagger. 'Foul demon! I send you back to hell!' he yells as he dives at it. They tumb-"

It's time.

  The carriage halts. You snap the book shut and lean back to get a look out of the foggy window. Yeonjun slides into the seat next to you and does the same. Kai strains his neck to look out of the window behind him.

Take care of our children. Our future.

  The gates are iron, shining like they were scrubbed everyday. The castle beyond them seems to be endless.

-King Choi Seungcheol

  As the gates open, you can feel your heart beat in your ears. Seunghee climbs on your lap and peeks out of the window, her eyes widen with every second she inspects the castle.

   Yeonjun seems to notice your dismay as the carriage grows ever closer.

He can feel it to. The feeling that your future is being written in stone with every inch you grow closer.

"When I last saw him," he hesitates as he gets your attention. "Prince Seonghwa seemed to be the same. He hasn't changed, he's still your old friend."

  You manage a nod with a small smile, and although he can tell it's forced; it helps comfort him. It doesn't comfort Kai, however. He never liked the idea of you marrying someone so far away. He still doesn't. You're attached at the hip.

   Everyone knows Choi (Y/n) doesn't want to marry for security or position. You made it very clear. It's a miracle that you've been able to avoid it this long. You figured if you put up enough of a fuss, your oldest brother would simply give up. But you are equally stubborn. And now he's King.

  A loud horn startles you, and you instinctively pull Seunghee closer. Your breathing hitches until you realize it's just the castle welcoming your entourage.

   As you come to a complete stop, all of your demeanors change. Yeonjun wipes his caring expression away and straightens his back. Kai lets go of Soojuns hand and fixes his blouse. The twins try their best to hide their awe at the beautiful and vast architecture.

And all you can do is hide your growing anxieties with a polite smile.

  The door squeaks as it opens. Yeonjun is the first one to exit. Soojun eagerly follows, and Seunghee is right behind her. The remaining siblings can hear the fuss from the bystanders outside.

   The middle siblings sit silence for a moment before he speaks up. "You don't have to be afraid."

You look up and let the faux smile fade the second you see his sincerity.

  "Don't I?"

  "No."He shakes his head. He's sure. His sister has nothing to be afraid of. Because- "if that Prince hurts you; I'll be the one to personally whip some senses into him."

You can't help the small chuckle that leaves your lips, and motion for him to leave the carriage first. He does, leaving you alone for a single moment before someone peeks in.

  "Your highness?" You smile at the man in uniform, standing slowly.

  "So impatient," you roll your eyes playfully and take his hand as he helps you step down. "Thank you, Yeosang."

  He bows slightly before leading you to your place in between your brothers and sisters. Your eyes are still adjusting to the bright light, but you can see the large doors open in front of you.

Yeonjun kneels, Kai follows his lead, you follow his, Seunghee following you; and Soojun stands upright just staring at the royal family until you notice and pull her down by the back of her neck without even lifting you head. You can all hear a small snort of laughter, and Yeonjun worries your family managed to already offend them until the King speaks.

"Please, rise."

The Choi family does so and Yeosang, the knight, steps forward. He bows deeply before turning to the siblings. "The Prince Choi Yeonjun. The Princess Choi (Y/n). The Princess Choi Seunghee. The Princess Choi Soojun. Huening Kai."

A man steps up from behind the other family, introducing them like Yeosang had just done for your family. "His Royal Majesty Park Kyujun. The Prince Park Seonghwa. The Princess Park Bongcha. The Princess Hayoon."

Your family bows, greeting him in unison, "Your Majesty." Yeonjun continues. "Thank you for your hospitality, sire. We are forever grateful."

Your eyes are fully adjusted when you rise from your bow. The king is older than you remember, but it has been a long time. Princess Bongcha has grown so much that you briefly wonder if you've found yourself time-traveled. There's an unfamiliar little girl beside her. The prince, your fiancé, has changed just as much as you have. You contemplate if he even remembers you. But those wonders are cleared when he addresses you directly.

"Princess (Y/n)," he has a bright smile and dark hair, that much has stayed the same. "Your highness," you smile back and lower your head.

  Whispers echo through the crowd that's held back by the guards: and it's becoming hard for you ignore them. You wrap your arm around Soojun when she cowers closer.

   "Please, come," King Kyujun motions for you all to follow him, and you gladly do.

    It's been a long journey, but it's only just begun.

𖢌

  King Kyujun leads the Choi family down the great hall and they can't help but marvel in its greatness. To the twins, it's a new world to be explored, coming up with their own stories that go along with the stain glass windows. To the older siblings, it brings back memories of childhood, a time when they didn't have such worries that plague their minds these days.

  Yeonjun can remember his first kiss behind a delicately painted pillar during the dead of night. Kai can remember learning a dance with his mother in this hall, the feeling of belonging. (Y/n) can remember running away from the tutor with Seonghwa beside her.

  As you look over to him, you notice it. "You still have that goofy smile," you've dropped the titles and politics. You're just a girl reunited with her child hood friend and fiancé. "I though you may have outgrown it."

  "I'm starting to think I may not," he laughs a bit.

   "I'd hope not. It's one of your few redeeming qualities," you joke, hiding your smirk as you look up at the new chandelier you pass under.

   He feigns a gasp, a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know that I have many good qualities."

  You hum, turning to him, "such as? Sparring with a squirrel?" He slaps a hand over his mouth to swallow his laughter. Your laughter rings free in the empty hall.

   "That squirrel was a menace! It startled me!" He argues in a low voice. "It had no right jumping next to me like that," he says with an exaggerated frown.

   "Unnie!" Soojun hollers, catching your attention quickly as you see that your little sisters have fallen behind. You make your way to them quickly, scolding them that they shouldn't yell in the presence of the King. "Look, Unnie," she points as she ignores your scolding.

  Your heart speeds before it stops abruptly, face to face with the intricate stained glass window. The sun shines through it, casting colorful lights on you all. It's a beautiful collage of colors. Every tiny piece is fit together perfectly to tell a story.

   You flinch when a hand is placed on your shoulder. The King apologizes, retracting his hand. "You probably don't remember this..." You shake your head and look back to the art. "I remember, sire."

He sighs deeply, and you can feel his energy apologizing even if he says nothing.

    "Come on, there's food waiting." The twins cheer quietly, following the King to the room where everyone else has vanished to.

    Seonghwa joins your side and looks at the window, basking in the colored light as he looks over the picture for what must be the millionth time. In his lifetime, he hasn't been able to find a single flaw.

  He looks down at you. Your skin is painted in a range of blue and yellow, pinks and greens. There's a patchy scratch on the majority of your cheek that's slipped his notice until now. Your eyebrows have screwed themselves up and your lip quivers.

   "Don't cry," he was essentially begging, "please, don't cry, (Y/n)."

You sniff in response, rubbing a stray tear away from your cheek. It's silent between you as you have a staring contest with the glass. "Fuck," you mumble as tears start to fall more often. "Ah, (Y/n)," he coos, moving to block your view of the heartbreaking image.

"I... It's just, I haven't seen them since they passed, Cheol put away their portrait... It breaks his heart to see them, but it breaks mine not to. I almost forgot what they looked like."

He doesn't say anything, simply opening his arms and letting you fill them. After so long, it feels the same. You're still shorter, but you've both grown. He's still strong, but now you caught up. You still turn your head to the left and place it on his chest. He still wraps one arm around your back and places the other on your shoulders. After all these years, you remember how secure he feels when your arms link around his waist. Even with the time that's passed, he can recall the fact you love when he rubs his thumb over your shoulder.

So much has happened to each of you and yet you both still have memorized each other's hugs. You used to be each others safe place. And though you're older and have met again in such pressing circumstances, it remains the same.

"Your highness," the familiar voice is just loud enough to startle you. "Yes, Yeosang?" You questions calmly, and it's a stark contrast to Seonghwas glare at the man. "Your brother asks for you, ma'am." You nod to dismiss him, and turn back to Seonghwa when he's gone.

"How do I look?"

"Look like you've been crying."

You tut your tongue and gently slap his shoulder with the back of your hand. He smiles as you do. "It'll be okay," he assures you as he fixes a stray from your neat hair, "it's dark in the dining hall."

He takes your hand and pulls you away from the image of your passed parents lazing in the garden.

𖢌

His footsteps are heavy. He's forcing his breathing to be slow. His heartbeat is going wild as he gets closer to the Kings quarters.

He steps in front of the guards and they knock on the double doors. "Prince Yeonjun, your majesty!" The Kings response is muffled by the walls, but clear enough for the guards to be confident in opening the doors.

Yeonjun steps in and looks over his shoulder as the doors close behind him, anything to keep his eyes away from King Kyujun. The doors slam shut and he finds a tapestry to inspect.

"Please, sit." He follows his voice and finds himself sitting across from the King on the large balcony, a round table littered in papers separates them.

"Thank you, your Majesty," he eagerly takes the wine he offers, hoping it would soothe his dry throat. He can't remember being so thirsty before the King called for him.

"How do you find your quarters?"

Yeonjuns lips are still occupied with the glass when the man speaks up, and he takes his time before speaking shortly. "Very nice, sire. Thank you."

"And your siblings?"

"I'm sure they're adjusting well, sire. We thank you, again, for your hospitality while we discuss our plans."

When he finally has the courage to look at the man, it calms his nerves. His crown is gone. His blouse is astray. His nose and cheeks carry a rosy hue from the frigid weather. He looks much more human.

"This is, of course, why I've asked you here."

"Of course."

Kyujun leans back into the wooden chair and lets out a sigh. "Once (Y/n) and Seonghwa are married, we will put our combined efforts against Lord Hwang. He's a vicious man," he tuts his tongue, annoyed at the mere mention of the Lord of Kherhai. "I've heard of the attacks on your family. I'm sorry for you loss and... rest assured, we will not let anything happen to you at this court."

    "Thank you, sire."

   "Your sister," he hesitates just a bit, "I've looked into quite a few people to help her plan the wedding. They'll meet with her tomorrow. I know she doesn't agree with the circumstances, but that doesn't mean it must be unpleasant."

   "I'm sure she will appreciate it, sire. She's been hesitant to do any planning on her own."

   Kyujun nods in response. He already knows this. He's kept close tabs on his only sons fiancée.

   "Sire, may I ask when the wedding is supposed to be taking place?"

"This week, if all goes well. Lord Hwang is no doubt sending men this way as we speak to get rid of the rest of the Choi family lineage." Kyujun doesn't seem to notice Yeonjuns pained expression, and if he does: he doesn't say anything about it.

   He, instead, hands the young man a map of Kherhai: diving head first into strategy.

𖢌

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 3

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Word count: 3322

Disclaimer: This is based on the side quest "Geology for Beginners" so the reader is from the future and aware of some things that happen, but not everything. The reader will also have she/her pronouns and this fanfiction follows the story of RDR2. Also English is not my first language so pls forgive me for any grammatical mistakes!

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well)

Two weeks have passed since you set up camp at Horseshoe Overlook. Two weeks of absolutely nothing happening. Before this there was a risk of dying from either starvation or hypothermia, but now it feels like you could fall over dead from boredom.

At least you have grown closer to the other women in the gang during that time. You, Karen, Tilly and Mary-Beth are currently sitting grouped up together and chatting away.

That is when Karen motions towards Arthur and Uncle and you all turn your head to get a better look at the two men.

"Does it look like they're leaving camp?", Tilly asks and Karen nods as she jumps to her feet.

"Come on, girls. Let's convince them to take us with them to town.", she suggests and you all make your way over.

You look over your shoulders to make sure Miss Grimshaw isn't noticing your attempt to escape. Otherwise she'd come up with thousands of tasks to do around camp to prevent you from leaving while giving you an earful. She's an intimidating woman.

"Well, can Miss Grimshaw spare you?", Arthur asks, his voice laced with curiosity and Karen let's out a huff.

"Can Miss Grimshaw spare us? What happened to you, Arthur? You got four healthy women here, askin' you to take them out to town and you're worried 'bout chores?"

The outlaw studies you and the other women before he shakes his head with an amused half-smirk.

"Alright. Hop on then."

With a delighted cheer, you all make yourselves comfortable on the back of the wagon. The way out of the forest is shaky and bumpy and you have to hold on to the edge of the bench you're sitting to not fall over and make a fool of yourself.

"Ladies, why don't you sing something for us?", Uncle suggests and the others seem to be more than on board with the idea.

It's a catchy song, one you've never heard before, but you must admit that the singing definitely has some space for improvement. You're pretty sure that every single person in the area and their grandma could hear you approach.

At least the spirits are high and the mood is lighter than you've ever witnessed it. All the laughing and grinning from the others is contagious and you even try to sing along a bit. After countless times of you messing up the lyrics, you eventually decide to give it a rest.

A loud crash rips your group out of their happy bubble and Arthur halts the wagon infront of a coach that's parked on the side of the dirt road. Well, 'parked' is a generous way of putting it. It rather looks like a small disaster had struck it.

The driver is clearly struggling to keep one of the horses in check and it runs off to the other side of the train tracks.

"You should help him, Arthur.", Tilly suggests and he grumbles something to himself before hopping off to talk to the driver.

You and Arthur still have not spend enough time with each other to call yourselves friends, but you'd be a fool to not notice how gentle he treats the horses. They seem to flock to him like pigeons to bread crumbs whenever he's nearby.

Like now. You watch him calm down the escaped horse with just a few words before he leads it back by the reigns. It's fascinating to see how his rough facade melts away when he deals with animals as if he prefers their company over a person's.

"That was quite impressive, Arthur.", you say to him once he's back in the driver's seat and continues to drive.

"Ah, it was nothin'. The horse was just a bit spooked, is all."

Another thing you haven't failed to notice about him is the fact that he deflects every single compliment and praise people give him. Either he directs it at someone else or he plays it off as if it's nothing special he did.

Over the course of the last couple weeks you've found out a lot about his character. More through actions than words of course, but he seems to be the type that prefers to speak through gestures anyways.

Buildings appear in the distance and shortly after the chatter of a crowd fills the air. Finally, civilization. You begin to wonder how the town might look like. This is in the past after all and you've only seen a handful of pictures of how things used to look.

Once you get closer to Valentine you wrinkle your nose at the stench. It's a mix of shit from a variety of different animals and dried piss. That definitely dampens your excitement from earlier.

"Us girls will head into the saloon and see what we can find out about this place.", Karen says after everyone gets off. You're careful to not step into the spots where the mud looks softer, scared to end up ankle deep in the dirt.

Mary-Beth wraps her arm around yours and shoots you a wide smile.

"You can come with us."

An unsure chuckle escapes your throat and you wave your hand around in the air. The girls have told you before how they scam people (mainly men) and you're not certain if you're quite confident enough in yourself to be able to pull off that kind of stuff.

"Oh, I don't know.", you mumble and she gives your shoulder a playful slap.

"Don't worry about it. We'll teach ya how it's done and with a pretty face like yours, you'll have anyone wrapped around your finger in seconds.", she answers and her fingers give your arm a reassuring squeeze.

Since you're a member of a gang now, it wouldn't be too bad of an idea to learn how to play the part. People will expect you to contribute at some point so might as well start sooner than later.

As Mary-Beth drags you towards the saloon, you throw one last glance at Arthur and Uncle who disappear into a shop. For a town this size, the saloon turns out to be pretty packed.

"So how we usually do it is we find some drunk moron and empty his pockets. Sometimes they drop some good information too like a coach that can be robbed or somethin' like that.", Karen explains and you nod along.

So far it sounds simple, but it doesn't necessarily mean that it will be. You have never stolen anything from someone and the thought of doing it here is anxiety inducing considering that half of the  customers carry guns with them.

I shouldn't have left the revolver back in the camp.

Luckily the girls are kind enough to not only explain the job a bit further and give you advice, they also paid for your drink which is something you desperately need right now. The whisky burns as it slides down your throat and you feel it fuel your courage a bit.

Maybe this won't be too difficult. Majority of the men here look like they're about to pass out as they stand so it's highly likely they won't notice your hand slip into their coats and satchels. Nevertheless, you decide to stay at the table for now and build up some more confidence while the girls start to spread out and do their thing.

You take the opportunity to watch them a bit to see how it's done in practice. It doesn't take long for all three to find their targets and your eyes follow Tilly and Karen leaving the saloon with each a victim glued to to their side. Impressive. That was quick.

Mary-Beth on the other hand is leaned against the bar counter and giggling away at something one of the guys said. Her hand caresses his arm and you watch her skilfully reach into his pocket to pull out some dollar bills. It happened so fast that you almost missed it.

Perhaps they were right. This seems like child's play and you don't even have to pick out a poor soul, because one of them finds you first. A man stumbles over to your table and makes no effort to hide the way his eyes roam shamelessly over your figure. The look on his face sends a shiver down your spine.

"What's a pretty thing like you doin' 'ere all alone, huh?", he asks and the stench of alcohol hits you like a freight train.

You fight back a gag and force a smile on your lips. This guy is so drunk he probably doesn't even remember his own name at this point. A plan begins to form in your mind as you reach out towards his hand.

"I'm looking for some company.", you say with the sweetest voice you could muster up and a sickening grin spreads over his face.

That grin is going to haunt you in your nightmares, that's for sure.

"Company, eh? Why don't we go someplace quiet then, you pretty thing?"

Everything within you is screaming at you to keep as much distance from him as possible, but you ignore the voices in your head. Instead you slowly get up from your chair and let him place a hand on your lower back.

Too low for your taste, but you comfort yourself with the fact that this will take only a couple minutes. You'll rob him of his money and then take off as fast as possible.

As he leads you towards the back of the saloon, you have to force your legs to take each step forward. Every fiber in your body seems to be fighting against this, but you know you have to power through this. If you don't learn how to rob people now then you will only have problems later on.

You recall what Mary-Beth did at the bar and let your hands wander over the man's torso. The movements are slow and light to make him think you're just flirting and being a bit touchy.

Then you feel a change of texture and you slip your finger into one of the jacket pockets. There is paper. Dollar bills. Your heart makes a victory leap and you bite back the proud grin on your lips while you fish out the money.

And the best part of it all is that the man hasn't noticed a damn thing. Karen was right when she told you that drunk morons make easy targets.

Like stealing candy from a child.

Now that your work here is done you stop in your tracks right after you cut the corner behind the saloon. The man gives you a puzzled look.

"I just now remembered that I have some important errands to run." You quickly excuse yourself and turn on your heels to leave, but he stops you.

The iron grip his hand has on your wrist startles you and you try to pull away. Yes, he might be as drunk as they come, but he's strong. Fear takes ahold of you.

"And where do ya think you're goin'?", he asks in a threatening tone and his eyes darken.

With a forceful tug, you stumble forward into his arms and the foul stench emanating from him makes your stomach turn. No matter how hard you push him away, his arms keep you securely in place.

Now would be a perfect time to pull out your cattleman if you hadn't been so stupid to leave it behind. So you do the only thing that's left for you to do, which is to ram your knee between his legs and break free from his hold.

Just as you turn around to run off, he grabs you by your blouse and yanks you backwards. There's nothing that could help you prevent the fall and you accidentally bite down on your tongue when you make contact with the ground.

You feel a warm liquid spread in your mouth and the taste of iron lacing your tongue. A shadow falls over you and the man is menacingly towering above you. Anger is written all over his face as he drags you back to your feet.

He pulls back his arm and you close your eyes, preparing yourself for his fist to make contact with your face, but it never comes to that. You feel someone pulling you away and your eyelids flutter open.

You're being met with broad shoulders and a hand gently pushing you back. Arthur is standing infront of you with his hands balled up into fists and a murderous glare on his tanned face.

"Have you lost your damn mind, boy?"

The drunk man takes a few steps back and lifts his hands with an awkward chuckle.

"Listen, partner, we was just havin' some fun-"

"Fun? That's what you call it? Hurtin' and threatenin' a lady is fun to ya?", Arthur roars and closes the distance between him and the man with just two strides.

With both hands, he grabs him by the collar and pulls him closer. Since Arthur is taller (by a long shot) the other man is struggling to stay on his toes.

"If I ever catch you even touching another strand of hair on this woman's head, I will personally make sure that you'll never use your hands again. Have I made myself clear, partner?"

The drunk man only nods hastily and scurries off so fast as if the devil himself is chasing him. Arthur studies your face thoroughly when he turns around like he's searching for any injuries or bruises.

"You alright, miss?", he asks with genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, don't worry. At least I managed to steal something from him.", you answer and hold up the cash you stole from the man.

With only a nod for an answer, he lightly brushes your shoulder with his hand to indicate for you to start walking. The contact lasted only for a split second, but the warmth of his fingers still lingers on that spot.

"I'm sorry you had to step in.", you say, breaking the silence as the two of you walk back to where the wagon is parked.

"Don't apologize. Tilly and Karen needed some rescuin' as well."

"But still." You look up at him. "Thank you by the way. I was really scared back there."

"I know. Just be more careful next time. You could start carryin' a knife around or somethin'."

Or maybe that revolver of mine. I brought it with me for this exact reason after all.

Once the wagon comes back in sight and the others catch a glimpse of you, the girls start waving with their arms.

"Are you okay?", Mary-Beth asks with concern edged on her soft features.

"Yes, just covered in dirt and probably horse shit.", you joke to lighten the mood, but then you notice a nasty bruise on Karen's face.

Your eyes go wide and you clasp your hand over your mouth with a gasp.

"Karen, you're hurt!"

The blonde woman waves it off in a casual manner as if she spilled some tea over her clothes instead of taking a punch to the face.

"You should see what Arthur did to the other guy.", she answers.

Just as you open your mouth to respond, a man wearing a checkered suit comes to a abrupt halt infront of your group.

"Hey, haven't I seen you in Blackwater?", the man exclaims with his eyes fixed on Arthur.

"Nah, I've never been there."

You see the others sharing weird looks and tensing up. This is bad. If this guy really recognizes Arthur and word spreads around...the gang could end up in some serious trouble.

"No, you were definitely there! I know you!"

Your eyes fall on Arthur who takes a few steps towards the man with the suit and he waves him over.

"Come here so we can talk for a second.", he suggest, but the man takes off right as he finishes the sentence.

Arthur mumbles a 'shit' before he orders Uncle to take you and the girls back to camp and jumps on a stranger's horse to pursue the stranger.

"Shouldn't we help him?", you ask with a worried expression, but the others shake their head.

"Arthur can handle this. We'd just get in the way.", answers Tilly. She's right. There isn't much you can do to help him and it's not like you know how to ride a horse anyways.

---

The setting sun is bathing the entire camp in a warm, orange light. It's a slow evening today. A soft tune, coming from Javier's guitar, is playing in the distance and the gang members are either resting at the fireplace or chatting casually with one another.

As you look around to take in the peaceful view, you hear the galloping of a horse approaching and you watch Arthur as he hitches his Tennessee Walker on one of the posts. He has been gone all day after you, Uncle and the girls made it home from Valentine.

As he comes closer to where you're sitting, you notice the dried dirt on his clothes and you raise an eyebrow.

"Did the Blackwater guy get you this dirty?", you ask him the moment he's in ear shot and he looks down at himself with a displeased expression.

"No, some of the boys got into a fight at the saloon."

The corners of your mouth curl up into a sly smirk. "So you decided to roll around in mud?"

Arthur rolls theatrically with his eyes, but you don't miss out on the amused gleam in them. "Very funny."

You grab a mug and fill it up with some coffee and hand it over to him. For a brief second your fingers brush as he takes it from your hand, mumbling a quick 'thank you' and you cough into your fist.

"But the Blackwater guy...did you catch him?", you ask him and he takes a long sip from the coffee.

"I sure did. Turns out he just mixed me up with someone else."

"Obviously." Your voice is oozing with sarcasm.

Arthur fishes something shiny out of his pocket and hands it over to you. "He even gave me this fancy pen as an apology."

"How very kind of him."

For a while the two of you just sit there in comfortable silence while Arthur enjoys his coffee.

"You sure you're doin' okay?" If you listen closely you can detect a slight hint of concern in his tone.

"Why do you ask?" You turn to face him completely now and he waves his hand around in the air.

"You know, with what happened in Valentine."

You let out a deep sigh as you return to continue observing the sunset. That has been a scary experience, yes. One that could have definitely ended very badly, but for some reason it hasn't hit you that hard. Not as much as the wolf attack at least.

"I think the fact that I actually managed to rob that scumbag is what makes me feel okay with it." With a lift of your chin, you motion towards the donation box next to Dutch's tent. "I gave some of the money to the camp."

"Good, good.", Arthur mumbles and stands up with a grunt.

He places his hands on his weapon belt and looks around. "Well, I'll better be goin' now. Thanks for the coffee again."

You shove your hand inside your pocket, playing with the money you stole earlier today. A strange sense of pride fills you as you recall the memory. Sure, it was a small feat compared to what the gang usually does and who knows what would have happened if Arthur hadn't stepped in in time, but still.

It feels good to contribute and you catch yourself wanting to do it again.

Taglist: @shackspossum

[uptoolateart]

Thanks to @hailqiqi for tagging me about ten thousand years ago. I just have so much to do 😩 Anyway! The original post said:

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Here we go!

Breaking Free - the whole series

I'm cheating here, because I'm listing a multi-book series, but I can't help it. I'm super proud of it. It started as a one-shot of Adrien and Marinette finding Gabriel's basement, and then it spiralled hard. It begins right after Strike Back. From there, it's a complicated, twisted and very bumpy ride.

'How did you think this up?' my BF beta has asked me many times. I don't know, guys. It just seemed obvious at the time 😆

This was my 'getting back into writing' book, after a lengthy creative hiatus / identity crisis. I churned out chapters because I needed to get back in the game and rediscover myself artistically. Then I went back and edited the whole thing a couple years later, to make it better (and expand it by about 20k words).

It became a series because I had requests for sequel scenes. Again, a couple one-shot ideas spiralled, and I merged them with another premise that had been kicking around in my head - Adrien, years later, trying to heal from everything as an adult and find himself as a father with his own teenage son.

That then spiralled again, and I ended up exploring Felix in depth, too, and pushing all the sentibeing stuff to extremes. The whole concept for Book 4 intimidated the hell out of me as soon as I thought of it. I was so worried I wouldn't be able to do it justice. Writing it was sometimes physical torture. But in the end, I think Book 4 contains what might be the best chapter I've ever written for anything in my life.

Still, the saga continues! Book 5 starts posting in 4 weeks. I've set myself another crazy challenge with that one, but I am determined to pull it off. I also have ideas for a few one-shots to collect in a volume I'm calling Book 6. The series is going to be like 700k words by the time I'm done. Maybe more. Will I ever truly finish this thing? I don't know. I fell so hard into the universe I created, and it's going to be hard to let it go. I fully expect to cry when I post the epilogue to Book 5.

Book 1 was also how I really got into this fandom and started making friends. Honestly, that book changed my life. Yeah...I'm gonna cry.

Dreaming Wide Awake

This was my follow-up to the S5 finale. The show is now going its own way, but I'm still so proud of how all the tension and emotions turned out in this fic. Again, the story is complex. It's also really surreal, and I think the battle scenes are some of my best. I was soooo nervous about the reader response to one of the big moments in it, but the unanimous reaction was everything I'd hoped for.

How the Heart Learns to Beat Again

A backstory from Nathalie's POV. It starts with her at age 25, as the sole survivor of an old magical order, going on extraordinary adventures seeking legendary artefacts. Then she meets the Agrestes, loses her magic, and gets roped into a new crazy world.

The story also explores Gabriel and Emilie, Colt and Amelie, and Adrien and Felix's creation / infancy. Book 2 (covering Emilie's death and how Gabriel and Nathalie start using the butterfly and peacock) starts posting on Monday. I think these fics are possibly the most mature writing I've ever done. There's a certain 'voice' to them that stands out from my other writing.

Finding a Way (Jurassic Park AU)

This is my most successful fic, so far. It's half goofy / romantic and half tense / action - with a lot of gore. I thought it would be total crack, but it took on a life of its own and became much more serious. There was something magical about how it all came together. I'm planning a sequel, but I need to get through a few other big fics first.

Voyage! Tales of the USS Miraculous (Star Trek Crossover)

This is so far from finished, but I'm having a blast writing it. It's basically all planned out and going to be mammoth when it's done. There's a little of everything in it, and you don't need to know Star Trek to understand it. I'm loving the reader speculations over what might be going on.

Okay! That's my list. Tagging @raspberrycatapult @kuromori4 @cardiac-agreste @mysticraven20 @trinketsinthesun @hamsteriffic @jigglypuff1994 @fandomofone

[aley-nag]

Bumpy road, pretty result

Whoaaaa. This one...

The next fanfiction I bound was Cinder and Smoke by @thelittleblackfox. I lover their work to pieces. They write incredible thought out Stucky!AU's with a lot of fantasy aspects or really good scifi and I wanted badly to do one of their fics, but waited til I was a little happier with my results and could make a pretty cover. We decided together on this one and I started formatting... And then I stopped for a long while because Word is the devil.

Cinder & Smoke is a western!AU and just about the most romantic thing I've ever read. It has yearning and a little angst and a very distinct vibe that feels like Fernweh and wilderness and change. Go read it!

I worked on it between June and December 23 and Christmas was the only reason I finished it this quickly, but I did not want to leave it unfinished for the turn of the year.

Sadly I don't have a lot of pictures, but when I'm finished with my copy I'll post some more.

Now we'll come to the journey it was to finish this!

It started out rather uncomplicated, because I thought I had gotten the hang of formatting and then, when I tried adjusting the font and overall look of the text body Word kept killing the italics. And I googled and tried and experimented and I just couldn't get it to stop. I was so frustrated, oh god. It put me off a little and I had to leave it for a while. When I came back around to it I found a slightly butchered solution, that works though so I won't question it. After that formatting went smoother and I was able to bind it. I used paper from that same supplier that fucked up my paper order for the covers from the notebooks. But only after I had it printed I noticed that it was cut crooked and wouldn't cleanly fold in half. I despaired a little, said fuck it and hoped it wouldn't be to noticeable. I think it's alright.

Binding went really well and I think that's the cleanliest job I did to this date.

Did the endbands by hand to match the color scheme I was aiming for. Because of the title I wanted to invoke fire and used primarily black and red for the coloring.

Then came the cover. First of all, don't use black bookcloth. You will see every. single. mistake. Also dust and glitter... I brushed this thing so often, you wouldn't believe it.

And I tried different vinyl. I couldn't find the right shade of red I wanted, it's a little hard to source it around here so I went an entirely different route and used golden glitter vinyl. What I didn't know until after I plotted the design: The glitter has texture. I couldn't see a single cut-line. I had to keep the picture open to work along the edges and not rip the letters. Still lost all of the i-points 😭

The flower was pretty easy though. Glueing it on was also quite hard because it just wouldn't hold and I got glitter everywhere. Which let to more brushing but I'm afraid mailing it destroyed all that work :D

Anyway. I am sooo happy with how it turned out I instantly forgot about all annoyances and was able to mail it before the end of the year and that was a really satisfying last project, so all is well :)

This was also the first time I had the idea of choosing a little icon for the author's penname because most of the time I don't have enough space for the entire name. I reworked all of the other books to accomodate that.

Binding Details

Body Text: Garamond, 11

Half Title/Chapter Heading: Gold Lines Trial, 20

Full Title: Carnivalee Freakshow, 48

Word Count: 57.197

Pages: 232

Paper: publishing paper A4, 90g, 1,5x volume (from the retailer from hell :/)

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

can you do part 2 to the Kenny omega Babies piece where the Reader is watching one of Kenny Aew match or at an Aew paper view in person or is either at Reader and Kenny Home in NORTH CARRROLLINNNAAAA. And the reader ends up going into Labor but Kenny ends up making it to see either his Baby boy or Baby Girl born and the golden elite come to visit after the baby is born?

Babies Part 3

Main Masterlist Kenny Omega Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Summary: Your ringside for The Elite VS JAS VS HOB for the trios titles in Winnipeg when you go into Labor. 

Word count: 1565

Just about everyone advised me not to go to Winnipeg for Dynamite due to the fact that there was a really high possibility that I could go into labor during the show. Being the stubborn person I am, I refused and was determined to be there. I was so angry that I couldn't make it to AEW’s first ever show in Canada nonetheless in my home town of Toronto because of the whole suspension thing. Even though I was not suspended it was recommended that I also stay away for a while. Now we are in Winnipeg Manitoba Canada, and I am so excited to be a part of the show, even if it is just me being ringside for the boys match. 

I was sitting in hair and makeup getting ready for the show when Shannon, one of the costume designers approached me. 

“Hey Mama, how’s it going” Shannon said excitedly as she approached me

“Hi Shan, I’m doing alright for the most part. I feel huge” I said pointing down to my baby bump

“Hey now, don’t be so mean to bumpy. I can’t wait to meet that little girl. You and Kenny are going to be great parents!” 

“Oh yeah? I’m not too sure about that one. She could come any day and I’m literally terrified. I can hardly take care of myself let alone a little human baby!” 

“Please Y/N, You will be a great mother. I see how you treat the young talent here. You are like a second mother to them” 

“That’s different, yes they are my babies but they are 18 to early 20s. That is a big difference to a newborn child! Before you  cut me off, yes I know that I treat AEW as my baby but it is my baby. You have been here since day one girl. You know I would do absolutely anything for this company. You remember how hard it was in the beginning!” 

“I remember very well Y/N! But that is not why I’m here. I came here to give this to you” Shannon said as she handed me a gift bag with tissue paper sticking out of the top

When I opened the gift I was shocked to see a matching set of ring gear to the ones the boys would be wearing tonight

“Shan!!! You shouldn't have!” 

“Yes I should, do you like it?” 

“I love it!!! The real question is, is it going to fit me?”

“It should fit, If not I can make a quick fix if needed. I thought you would like something cute to wear tonight!” Shannon said with the largest smile on her face! 

“Thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me!” 

XXX

When I put on the gear I was shocked to see that it fit like a glove. The white and silver bodysuit hugged my curves perfectly, surprisingly making my baby bump look flattering.  The matching Jacket put the whole outfit together perfectly although I did swap out the boots for my Dior Jordans. No way was my swollen ankles were  going to get into the boots. 

Once I was all ready I headed over to the Elite locker room to show​​ Tyson and The Bucks my new outfit. 

*knock knock knock*

“Come in!” Nick yelled through the door

When I opened the door I was greated by Tyson, Hangman and both Matt and Nick! 

“Hi, everyone!” I said

“Jesus christ Y/N!!!” Kenny said, almost in disbelief 

“Do you like it?” I asked

“Like it, I love it!!! How did you get this?” 

“Shannon surprised me with it!” 

“Of course she did” Matt said, interrupting our conversation “She’s the best isn’t she Y/n!” 

“She really is Matt! How is everyone feeling? Ready for tonight?” I asked felling a bit of tension in the room

“Yeah, we are great! I’m honestly just a bit nervous” Kenny admitted 

After being friends for 14 years and together for the past 10 I knew by now that Kenny does not get nervous EVER. Not even when main eventing the tokyo dome. To him that was just another match. So I knew that although Kenny might not be nervous Tyson was. It was strange, normally he was Kenny Omega 24/7, and only few were granted the wish to use his government name but I could see that I wasn’t talking to Kenny Omega, this was Tyson Smith. 

XXX

A couple of hours have passed and it’s now time for the main event! 

The Elite Consisting of Kenny, Nick and Matt VS the team of the house of black consisting of Malachi Black, Brody King and Buddy Matthews VS The Jericho Appreciation Society consisting of Chris Jericho, Sammy Guevara and Daniel Garcia. A match for the trios titles that The Elite had just lost a few weeks ago to HOB at revolution. 

I was waiting backstage for the cue to make our entrance to Carry on Wayward son when I was greeted with a worried Tyson. That is when I figured out just why he was so nervous. 

“I really don’t think this is a good idea Y/N” Kenny said nervously pacing around the small area 

“What’s not a good idea?” I said, unsure just what he was referring to

“You being ringside for this match!”

“Why not? Everyone knows that I'm pregnant and will be careful not to run into me. Plus I can look out for myself. I will be fine, I think you forgot I am also a wrestler.” 

“No it’s not that”

“What? It’s not I will go into labor during the match” I said

Tyson said nothing he just gave me that look

“I will be fine, promise, ok?”

“Alright, I love you Y/N” 

“I love you too Tyson” 

XXX

The match was going great, The pop from the crowd when I made the surprise appearance with the Elite almost made me cry. I feel like they were almost more excited to see me than the boys. I did my usual interference and interactions with the crowd when I felt an abnormally hard kick to my stomach. Then I felt it, hot liquid running down my legs. I looked over to Brandon Cutler who was also ringside, filming for BTE when I whispered “I think my water just broke” 

I looked down to see the pool of fluid on the ground and when I looked up I made eye contact with Kenny who looked like he saw a ghost. 

I heard some people in the crowd gasp when it happened, almost everyone in the ring having the same reaction as Kenny. Thankfully Kenny wasn’t in the match when it happened so I was able to tell him that I was ok and that I would stay ringside until the match was over. And boy did those 20 minutes feel like the longest 20 minutes of my life. 

Once the match was finished I went to the backstage doctors who told me I should go to the hospital since I was in active labor. Me being the stubborn person I am, I refused. I wanted to stay until they taped rampage, since The Elite was booked to have a little speech after the taping to thank the crowd and have a little celebration For Kenny and Jericho. Tony Khan told me to forget about it and that I should really go to the hospital. I was getting tired of everyone telling me that but I was determined to stay. “If I have this baby backstage then I have it backstage!” I told a frustrated Kenny Omega. “ I am staying, end of story” 

Somehow I managed to make it through an extra 3 hours before we finally made it to the hospital. The celebration went well and in between some pretty nasty contractions I let the crowd know that I did indeed go into labor during the match! 

When I arrived at the hospital I was not alone. Tyson, Matt, Nick, Hangman, Adam Cole, Britt Baker and Matt’s wife Dana insisted on coming with us. Although it was weird at first I didn’t mind having my best friends with me. Although it was a bit of a sticky situation having this baby in Winnipeg it wasn’t all that bad. Kenny and I had a house in Toronto which was only about 2 and a half hrs by plane and due to the fact we would have an infant it would take around 20-24 hrs to drive. Kenny and I also both had family that lived in Winnipeg including Kenny’s parents who were kind enough to let us stay with them for a bit before we could get back home. 

I ended up having a natural birth due to my fear of needles and it was probably the worst decision I made in my life. The amount of pain I was in was insane but in the end it would be worth it. Tyson was scared, understandable so and so was I. 

Tyson, Britt and Dana were all there with me when I gave birth to my daughter. Tyson and I decided on the name Violet for our baby girl. She was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen in my life. To make things better I was surrounded by my best friends. 

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 31

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Reader POV

Words: 4328

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

The crescent tip of your fingernail traces along the bumpy ‘scales’ on the massive opal that lay on the pillow next to you. Though dulled and partially covered with years of neglectful dirt, the stone that shone underneath was beautiful. There were traces of blues, greens, yellows, and even pinks. All held together in a cream blanket.

Tyrion sat with crossed legs on your bed with you. He was equally puzzled on why your former maid had sent this opal to you beyond the grave.

The opal. . . Strange as it was, it radiated a comforting warmth whenever you wrapped your arms around it. You hadn’t felt such calmness in a long time. Even with your youngest brother now by your side, you knew you still had much ahead to stress about. Back in Westeros you had no such worries except Rhaegar’s infidelities. You had no duties and no one expected anything from you besides to provide Rhaegar with an heir that would one day rule the Seven Kingdoms. The one thing you had been expected to do. . . unfortunate events ripped your child from you and tore apart your world. Now you were in Essos where everyone expected the world of you. It was daunting and stressful. You had enjoyed sword fighting with your brother and everyone else, but the reality of your situation truly came to light when you had fought Inniros.

“Are you going to show it to that bald dude?”

You chuckle at him. “You mean the High Priest? Hm, I don’t know. Thalina sent this to me for a reason. Maybe she wanted me to sell it?”

Tyrion picks up the opal and puts it on his lap. “You would get a lot of money for it! It’s basically the size of a large egg. I would have never imagined that this was what Selmy was carrying around this entire time.”

Furrowing your brow, you prop yourself up on your elbow. Why would Thalina give this item to Varys. You hadn’t even known they spoke at all. There were a lot of things you didn’t know about Thalina. Like you hadn’t known she had a sister.

What did Varys, the Master of Whispers, have to gain from this? It made you worry of what he planned to do with this information. He knew you were alive.

“Barristan didn’t say anything else about Varys, did he?”

Shaking his head, Tyrion looks up at you sensing your mistrust of the knight he had been traveling with. “No. He’s good at keeping secrets. He didn’t even tell me we were delivering it to you until we arrived in Lys. I was so mad. He didn’t tell me that my own sister was alive.”

Softening and reaching out to him, your fingers smooth down his unruly hair. “Regardless, I’m happy you’re here Tyrion. I’ve missed you so much.”

His face is endearing and full of warmth as Tyrion lets himself fall into your touch. “I missed you too (y/n). When. . . the fire. . .” He couldn’t even talk about it for it made his eyes glossy. Chest raising as he took a deep breath, Tyrion collected himself. “Casterly Rock has been insufferable.”

You watch Tyrion shyly fiddle with the opal on his lap. He didn’t want to meet your eyes again otherwise he might very well end up crying. “I could only imagine. I know it must have been hard but what you did was very dangerous. You could have been killed had it not been for Ser Barristan. We have to thank him before he leaves.”

Tyrion scrambles off of the bed and looks out your window. The early morning sky was growing brighter with the continued rising of the sun. “He wakes up early. If we want to catch him, we’d have to leave for his room now.”

He sounded anxious. Maybe he hoped for his knight to stay. That was impossible though. Barristan was already in deep trouble for leaving Aerys’ side.

You nod and get up as well, not before grabbing the opal.

He wanted to leave as soon as possible. Once the sun rose, Selmy was up and pulling on his armored chest plate that he hid under his normal clothes. Without the chest, Barristan had more room for movement.

There was a nagging feeling that prevented him from leaving right then and there. He needed to see Tyrion one last time. He had grown fond of the boy, even attached. Tyrion had made the journey more bearable for Selmy.

Selmy had told Jaime just that when they had their private discussion. . .

“Before you go on to scold me, I want to thank you.” Jaime’s normally cocky tone was dialed down to that of genuine humbleness and gratitude. “You saved my younger brother. Brought him here and made (y/n) incredibly happy. I don’t have much at the moment, but I owe you.”

Selmy had wanted to yell at him. Disgrace him and fill Jaime with shame for abandoning his post. In the grand scheme of things, Selmy knew it was no longer important. There was something else going on in the temple that Barristan had no comprehension of. This was a new world to him. (y/n) and Jaime seemed to be highly regarded there. Plus, Selmy had done the very same thing. He had forsaken his king and vows to do what the Spider had asked of him and for what? Had it been the worry and fear on the eunuch's face?

Pursing his lips, Barristan’s shoulders slump. “I’m not going to scold you. Even if I did, would you listen?”

Jaime pauses to choose his words carefully. That was also something new. A thoughtful Jaime. “Out of respect for you, I would have. I would’ve listened but it would have done nothing to change my mind. My loyalty is in a much better place. With my sister (y/n).”

“So you acknowledge that you have committed high treason then?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Jaime nods with an easy smile that unnerved the seasoned knight. “But I don’t regret the choices I’ve made. I would do them all again. If I hadn’t done what I did, (y/n) would have been dead. I will never regret turning my back on Aerys and the rest of the guard. I’ve fought along the men here, they are good men. Well, most of them. I do know that they would put down their life for my sister. She is much safer here than in Westeros where someone was obviously trying to kill her. . .”

Why had his voice grown quiet? “Did you ever find out who set fire to her rooms?”

Green eyes flicking away, Selmy saw a newly healed cut on his cheek that had barely missed his eye. “No.” It sounded like a lie but Selmy wasn’t going to pry anymore.

Barristan Selmy sighed and glanced at the door. Was anyone listening in on their conversation? Probably. Those who resided in the temple didn’t seem to trust him. “Who are these people? Why do they treat your sister like. . . Like she’s-”

Jaime cuts him off “Like she’s important?”

Not exactly what he was going to say, but it was along the lines. “Strange men with tattoos on their faces and women who look just as terrifying. . .”

Out of the blue, the former Kingsguard knight shakes his head. “I can’t tell you. Not if you intend on going back to King Aerys.”

“You know I have to.”

“Obviously you don’t have to. Look at me now.” Jaime barked out a laugh. “You don’t owe anything to the Mad King. You're one of the best knights in all of the Seven Kingdoms. Do whatever the hell you want! I know Tyrion would be happy to have you here.”

Barristan stood up; he had hoped that Jaime would return with him. Maybe then Aerys wouldn’t be as upset for him leaving for so long. It was clear that Jaime wasn’t going anywhere and Barristan didn’t have the manpower to force him back to Westeros. And there were Jaime’s fellow soldiers to worry about.

Jaime reigned himself back in. “One of these days Selmy, you’ll find something that is truly worth your loyalty. It will be your reason to change. When that happens you’ll see how much of your life you have wasted in the service of Aerys Targaryen.” Getting up as well, Jaime held out his hand. “There are no hard feelings from me though. Go back to Westeros if you must. My place is here.”

Maybe it was just Selmy, but he saw a change in the young, cocky, Jaime. In his Kingsguard days, Jaime had kept his brilliant shock of gold hair short and had a permanent air of arrogance about him. Before him was almost a completely different young man. Hair had grown long and was kept at bay with a rope tie. His former peach complexion was gone, overtaken by a tan. Foresaking his suit of metal in exchange for looser, more comfortable, attire; Jaime looked at ease in his surroundings.

Holding out his hand, he grasped Jaime’s outstretched one.

“Ser Barristan?” A muffled voice on the other side of his door nearly startles him. It sounded like Ilta’s, the soldier who had escorted him to his room.

His assumptions proved correct, but there was another female guard with her. Tall with short blonde hair sheared close to the scalp with the same flames upon her cheeks.

“Dārilaros (princess) (y/n) would like an audience with you before you leave.” Ilta speaks again.

“If you would be so kind as to follow us.” The blonde guard offers Selmy a tentative smile.

On his way through the temple, they passed through the open, arched, hallway that looked out into what appeared to be a training facility. The ground was void of any greenery and beaten down into sand in the middle. Beyond one could easily see the rolling waves and incoming ships.

Men and women in the same orange and red robes sparred with one another.

“That’s where our Fiery Hands train.”

Barristan nearly choked on his air. He hadn’t heard this small girl’s arrival. It was like she had popped out of nowhere.

Ilta greets her. “Lady Alizah.”

She was a lot shorter than Ilta and had a unique pale face with her lips dyed black with streaks tattooed on either corner of her mouth. Her scarlet freckles made Selmy wary that perhaps this girl had some kind of disease.

Lady Alizah’s almond shaped eyes look directly ahead, not missing a beat with her companions despite her stature. “Ilta, Chetna. Sorry to have surprised you.”

“Are those the temple soldiers?”

“Something like that. Although I personally believe they’re more than soldiers.” Her voice has a dreamy softness that could put someone comfortably to sleep if she so wished it.

“They hold up the faith of R’hllor, the Lord of Light.” The guard known as Chetna helps to further elaborate and points to her cheek. “The tattoos, a symbol that the Lord of Light is always with us.”

He had heard that those who believed in the faith of R’hllor came off as religious zealots. Selmy now realized it was true. The religion was hardly spoken of in the Seven Kingdoms with many people believing in the Faith of the Seven or even the Old Gods. It was mainly a forgein religion that Selmy was not familiar with.

“Don’t bother with Ser Selmy with your talk of R’hllor.” Ilta tells them with a wave of her hand. Her golden bangles clink against one another. Even though she was a soldier of faith, she still had her courtesan trinkets that she dare not part with. Each one of the bangles she wore could probably pay for a small army.

“They’re no bother. I’ve never heard anything about it.” He simply shrugs, not wanting to offend their beliefs.

Their little group was slowing down, drawing closer to (y/n)’s private chambers where a few guards milled up and down the corridor.

Lady Alizah stops them in front of a large wood door. In the dark wood there were intricate designs that Selmy’s old eyes couldn’t possibly make out. It was clearly made with the utmost care. “Perhaps if you come back to Volantis, we can have a chat about R’hllor. If you so desire.” She bows a little at her waist before heading down the opposite way.

A guard that was standing off to the side goes to the small girl and in a whisper asks if she would like assistance back to the High Priest. Alizah smiles but shakes her head, continuing on her merry way.

Chetna raps her knuckles against the door and took a step back. The door lurched for a second before being pulled open. Tyrion smiled up at Barristan Selmy. “Thought you could leave without saying bye?”

Barristan chuckled. “I figured you would send their entire army out to catch me.”

“I do have friends in high places.” Tyrion stepped aside for the knight to enter.

At the center was a tiled table, plush cushions surrounding it and on one of them sat (y/n). Next to her, in a lounged cross leg position was her older brother Jaime. She puts her cup down on it’s saucer and stands up to greet him.

“Ser Barristan.” She tilts her head down in a customary form.

The action made him feel slightly embarrassed. “That’s not necessary. . . my lady? I’m not sure what title to use. . .” Jaime hadn’t exactly been clear what her role was with these people.

Awkwardly (y/n) laughed. “Ah, you can just call me (y/n).” The climate of Essos agreed with her complexion and demeanor. He couldn’t quite remember her from her time in the Keep, but he knew that she had never appeared this comfortable with herself. “I owe you my gratitude for bringing both my brother and Thalina’s gift to me.”

Heart rekindled with a giddy jump, Barristan had to hold back his excitement. “The chest. . . you opened it already?”

(y/n) motioned for Barristan to take a seat on a cushion. At first it was a bit awkward to position himself on, but eventually he found a comfortable enough spot. Tyrion muffled his giggle and sat next to him. Two servants came with tea and snacks, setting them on the low table.

“It wasn’t easy.” Tyrion told him. “Rhiannon- oh! She’s Thalina’s sister by the way. Thalina was (y/n)’s maid. Rhiannon spent all night trying to open it. Turned out the box itself was a giant puzzle!”

From behind his back, Jaime revealed a large opal. Oddly shaped, it glimmered with so many beautiful colors that Selmy had never seen before. “This is what was inside it. The note left behind for my sister said it was found in Dragonstone.”

Not knowing what to make of it, Barristan glances at the three Lannister siblings. Each one looked so different from the other besides their blonde hair. Tyrion was excited about everything happening to him.

The maid must have stolen it from Dragonstone. Why she wanted (y/n) to have it so desperately was beyond him.

(y/n) watches him with guarded thoughts. Much like the scar on Jaime’s cheek, she had a newly healed scar above her brow. Her long dirty blonde hair was also pulled back into a ponytail similar to her older brother’s. It was the perfect hairstyle in a climate like Essos; it kept them cool while also protecting their neck from sunburns. There was definition of bicep muscles as well that told Selmy (y/n) had been physically training. The docile little girl from Westeros had evolved and grown under the Red Temple’s roof.

“What has the sister said of this?” A small teacup in front of him, Barristan felt a little silly picking it up in his massive hand.

“She’s equally perplexed about it.” (y/n) admits, her eyes flicking over to the opal that her brother was now handing her. She weighed it in her hands, eyelids drifting downward as she gazed at it. “But she knows her sister must have had a good reason. It’s the least of my worries right now.”

A door off to the side opens and a small maid with dark braids walks in with a tray in her hands. Atop of the tray is a velvet cream bag. She places this in front of Selmy. Jaime thanks the girl and calls her ‘Inanna’. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old but smiled politely and went back through the door she had come in through. “Our thanks.”

Hesitant, Selmy tugs at the gold cord that kept the bag shut. When he looked inside he couldn’t believe the amount of gold that lay inside. He immediately closed the bag. “I don’t need this. Knowing that Tyrion is here with his family is thanks enough. I have done my duty to the Spider.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes and huffed, pushing the bag closer to him. “Just take it. (y/n) said this was also from the High Priest. The bald dude that we met yesterday.”

“As a reminder also to keep her existence a secret. Better yet, don’t tell anyone about us either.” Commented Jaime in a slightly warning undertone.

His hand hovered over the bag before clutching it and putting it in his robes. Selmy nods. “Very well. I shall take it for your piece of mind. But you can trust me. I will not tell a soul.”

Timidly, Tyrion siddles up to Selmy and quietly tells him “If you happen to see Lady Ashara again, tell her I said thank you for her generosity.”

Selmy might never see the beautiful lady of Starfall again. Once he returned to King’s Landing, who knew what Aerys’ reaction would be. The Mad King could easily order his execution and he would be in the right.

Patting him on the head, Selmy smiles warmly. “Don’t forget to keep practicing. Don’t let anyone tell you what you can or can’t do. That’s all up to you.”

Even (y/n) grew a little dewy eyed at Tyrion acting so tough in front of his mentor. The youngest Lannister nods. “Yes, sir.”

He was a good kid. Selmy would miss him dearly.

You knew a part of him hurt at watching Barristan Selmy’s ship sail off toward the Seven Kingdoms. Tyrion had voiced his wish that the knight would decide to stay and continue to teach him how to swordfight.

Drawing him closer to your side, Tyrion’s hands grab at your skirts. He didn’t want to show how he was feeling and hid his face. “You’ll see him again. I’m sure of it.”

“That is if Aerys doesn’t kill him upon his arrival.” Tyrion mumbles against you.

Biting your bottom lip you knew that was a high possibility. You look back out to the glittering sea. You prayed to whoever was listening to keep him safe.

Jaime was still perched on his cushion, enjoying the refreshments that Siofra and Inanna had dropped off. Aimlessly picking at pieces of nuts and fruit but you could tell his mind was somewhere else. Did his presence bring up Jaime’s regret? It was a cold reminder of his desertion and the consequences that would fall upon him if he returned to Westeros while Aerys was still king.

The sooner Rhaegar won the war, the better. When you return. . . well, you had lots of hopes of your return, but the biggest was the hope that Rhaegar would grant Jaime leniency. He had proved himself to be a good man and shouldn’t be punished for abandoning his post. Maybe even reinstate him into the Kingsguard if Jaime so wished.

For a moment you stare at the back of Jaime’s head, lost in thoughts that revolved around Rhaegar. It wasn’t anything new. You frequently thought of Rhaegar during the rare moments you were completely alone; mostly at night when you missed his sleeping form next to you. At night was when you were most lonely. The phantom caresses you tried to bring upon your memory were now fleeting. It had been so long since you had been in Rhaegar’s arms. You couldn’t exactly remember how it felt but you knew that you missed it dearly. You missed his soft exhales as he dreamed much sweeter things than his reality. Missed how he would unconsciously wrap his arm around you and pulled you closer to him.

Barristan Selmy had been a distant connection to Rhaegar and it made your memory burn with desperate want.

When Jaime turned around, he broke the spell you had been under. He looked equally dazed from his own deep thoughts. Had he been thinking of Cersei? He must miss her like you missed Rhaegar.

He holds up the opal. “Were you going to take this to the High Priest? He might know something about it if he can read the fire.”

“Eventually. But first,” You twist around back to Tyrion who was still looking out on your balcony. “I want Tyrion to meet someone.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I’m sure there’s plenty of new people for him to meet here.”

You shake your head. “No one like Inniros.”

“(y/n)-”

“We’ll be fine.” Trying to assure him, you took the opal out of his hand. “As long as I bring Lightbringer, you shouldn’t have to worry. The High Priest doesn't see him as a threat either. He gave Inniros his own room.”

Jaime wanted to press on about the dangerous darkin, but he pressed his lips together and simply nodded. He had personally seen you go head to head with Inniros. Not even Jaime had been able to wound the assassin. You had been the only one able to stop him in his deadly tracks.

“What are you guys talking about?” Tyrion walks back into your room looking older than he was.

You smile at him. “How would you like to meet an actual darkin?”

His sparkling eyes told you his answer.

You had to ask a priest where they had moved Inniros to. Surprisingly it was very close to your own apartments. The priest had said that Benerro felt better if Inniros was placed close to you so you could keep an eye on the darkin.

"Have you actually seen him use his shadows?" Your little brother asked excitedly. He was walking fast alongside you, finally forgetting about Selmy's departure.

It was a relief to see Tyrion's happy face once again. That intellectual brain of his craving for more information. You reposition the opal that you were holding in your arms. You just didn't feel right leaving it in your room. Something told you that you were not to leave it alone. "Yes. I actually fought him."

Pausing, Tyrion gazes up at you. He had seen Lightbringer at your side. "So you've learned how to sword fight too?"

On your walk you tell him of the Fiery Hands and the training they had put you and Jaime through. You showed him the long scar on your hand that was courtesy of Weles. It made your brother flinch but you assured him that it didn't hurt and that there were no hard feelings between you and the captain. Even going so far as telling Tyrion that if he so wished to continue his own training, that Weles could possibly help him.

Turning a corner into the corridor that was to lead to Inniros' room, you were met by a red priestess sitting outside his door with Vidarr and the towering Yophiel who stood rigid against the wall.

"Nuha kosh." Vidarr greets you and Yophiel pushes himself off the wall to properly face you. The quiet red priestess smiles gently and places her book on her chair. You couldn't quite remember her name, there had been a lot of priestesses that you had met during your time in the temple. When Vidarr spies Tyrion by your side, he offers him a patient smile. "Ah, you must be the young Lord Tyrion."

"Indeed. Tyrion, this is Vidarr and Yophiel. They are part of the Fiery Hand."

He had to crane his neck up in order to look at Yophiel's face. Tattoos weren't very common in Westeros. They're tattooed faces must have been jarring for him. He was polite and even greeted them in Valyrian, surprising all four of you.

Vidarr laughs. "He's much better than you were when you first came here!"

Blushing slightly, you can't help but feel a shy sort of pride. Yes, Tyrion had always been smarter and quick to understand things. Smiling as you turn to face the red priestess present, she bows to you. "Nuha kosh, are you here to visit the darkin?"

"Yes, if I may."

"You can do whatever you want." she replies smoothly and steps aside, motioning for the two other men to follow her movements. They look wary but say nothing as you knock and the door opens.

You're shocked when you see Inniros. His red dreadlocks were gone, his hair was trimmed close to his scalp so that you could now easily see his long, pale, face. There was no hiding his empty eye socket.

Beside you Tyrion scrunches his face and whispers to you "This is the darkin? He doesn't have any claws."

About to reply to him, Inniros interupts with a sudden sharp gasp. "That egg!"

"Egg?"

Inniros rushes you and Tyrion inside his room. It was much smaller by your's, probably no bigger than Rhiannon's. "My lady, where did you get that?"

You look down at the opal, confused as you tell him about the puzzle box that came from Thalina.

He shakes his head. "That is no opal."

"What is it then?"

Under his breath he whispers "It's a dragon egg, my lady."

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[alpineshift]

How about prompt 12?

All the possibilities!! Maybe a post-apocalyptic, The Last of Us angsty vibes au?

12. “You can’t tell anyone. Seriously. Even them.”

Something's off about this whole job.

Jack's hiding something. Nico knows he is. He sees it in the lines of tension covering Jack's shoulders that never dissipates, and the permanent dark circles under his eyes.

He's not sure if anyone else has noticed, but Nico has, simply because he notices everything when it comes to Jack. He's pretty sure that's not part of their weirdly co-dependant friends-with-benefits situation (but secretly more than friends and not just physical benefits) for him to be nosy, but Nico can't help it.

He's so protective of Jack it's not even funny. It's very stressful in the post-apocalyptic, brain-fungal infecting reality they live in, but Jack is his one single, shining beacon of normality. Someone who's serious, protective, and capable, but also kind, sweet, and simply makes Nico smile.

So yeah. Something is way off. Jack cobbles together a pretty minimal team transporting what's apparently some secret, hyper-sensitive chemicals up to the US-Canada border, but yet he tried to leave Luke and Quinn out (red flag number one) and then only reluctantly let his brothers join after they nearly tore him a new one for trying to run off by himself (red flag number two). They're all a team, damn it. They've never done a run without each other.

Nico doesn't get the full story until one night, when he walks in on Jack washing up by himself in the shallow riverbank at midnight.

It's a full moon, which is the only reason why he sees it: the bite mark lodged in Jack's upper arm, deep and painful-looking, but, miraculously, healed over.

What the fuck.

Jack nearly shoots him when Nico goes splashing over, wild-eyed and panicked, grabbing Jack by the arm and dragging him over to inspect the bite mark. Jack's cursing him out and shivering, goosebumps all over from the icy water, and Nico just absent-mindedly wraps him up as he traces his fingers over the bumpy skin.

How was this possible? The infectious period is an aggressive one; the shortest Nico's ever seen someone turn after a bite is thirty-four seconds. Nobody's ever made it beyond fifteen hours. Jack couldn't have (shouldn't have) survived it. The thought alone makes Nico's vision grey out at the edges.

"I don't know how to explain it," Jack tells him, hushed and shaking. Nico's shaking as well, fingers so tight around the other man his knuckles have turned white. "All I know is--I blacked out after getting bitten that time my crew was ambushed in Philly two years ago. I thought I was done for. But I woke up and the bite just--healed over. Nothing happened. None of the bioscanners ever picked anything up. I sent my blood secretly up to the labs in Niagara and they said--they said I might have immunity."

And all the dots connect in Nico's head in one swift, terrible moment of realization.

"No. No. You are not giving yourself up as--as a lab rat. No, Jack, you can't do that--you don't know what they'll do to you--is there even a payload to deliver for this trip? Or is that case just an empty prop?"

Jack's silence is damning. Nico thinks he's going to lose his mind.

"You can't tell anyone," Jack rushes to say, his voice a harsh, desperate whisper. "Seriously. Even them." (And Nico knows he's talking about Luke and Quinn, which, this explains why Jack didn't want them to come at all, fuck.) "The labs held up their end of the deal and delivered half of the rations and medicine I negotiated for the Jersey compound. They'll get the other half when I show up. This might be our only fuckin' chance at peace, Nico. This might be all we ever get."

"Then I'm staying with you," Nico answers, stubborn. He doesn't care, Jack can resist all he wants, but lab staff is going to have to drag him out as a corpse if they think he's going to leave Jack at their mercy. "I'm not letting you go alone, Jack. That's final."

send me a jacknico prompt!