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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

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The Second One (1/2)

[ modern • Aemond x Alys!sister • female ]

[ warnings: angst, kissing, physical violence, swearing, toxic relationship, toxic behaviour, manipulation ]

[ description: On the occasion of their grandfather's birthday, her older sister, Alys, comes to their house and introduces her partner to their family, who from the very beginning arouses her concern with his behavior. After a series of unpleasant words and arguments, he visits her in her room in the night, paying her a strange, ambiguous visit. Dark, manipulative, bitchy Aemond. Anon request. ]

This is Part 1 of The Loved One

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

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Her family decided to throw a party for her grandfather at their house to celebrate his 90th birthday, at which her older sister appeared for the first time with her partner. She was surprised that her man was so young and thought with shock that the age difference between them was at least 10 years.

She and her never understood each other very well, as Alys pursued her goals over dead bodies. After many years, she realised that she could not trust her, that she had to be careful with her words around her. She loved her and tried to accept her as she was, but she couldn't be her friend.

Nor did it seem to her that Alys could ever see her as such.

She introduced the man she had come with perfunctorily, a scar on his left cheek – it seemed to her, looking at him from a distance, that one of his eyes was artificial, shining strangely in the light of the chandelier.

He was dressed in black tight jumper and fitted trousers, standing with his hands folded in front of him like a bodyguard, not paying much attention to what his sister was saying, biting his lower lip.

She thought that he didn't want to be here at all.

She shuddered when their gazes met for a long moment. Instead of looking away, however, she felt a sense of discomfort as she saw the way his eyes ran shamelessly over her entire body, the tip of his tongue hitting the side of his cheek.

She left the room deciding she didn't want to look at it, walking out through the back door into the garden.

Alys always overshadowed her – she felt small and bland in her presence. Her older sister could make a good impression when she wanted to, always extremely feminine, confident and mysterious, a true femme fatale.

She was very successful in the fashion industry, modeling for many years, her face was on the front pages of the world's magazines.

Unsurprisingly, she did not seek the friendship of her younger sister, who was a nobody next to her, a little girl playing at studying literary history. She loved reading, in the world of books she could be whoever she wanted, she could be the only one, the main character in the story.

Despite what she was feeling, she tried not to show her or anyone else her pain, focusing on her friends from her studies and the fact that she really liked what she was doing, recognising that getting into university thanks to her results without being forced to pay tuition fees was also some kind of success, something her parents always emphasised.

She sat on the grass taking advantage of the fact that it was a pleasant summer evening, due to living far outside the city boundaries she could admire the stars that stretched above her across the cloudless dark sky.

She heard the sound of a door being pushed open and slid shut and thought it was her father smoking compulsively. She smiled as she heard someone's footsteps heading in her direction being sure it was him, hearing the sound of a lighter being fired up and the hiss of a cigarette.

She glanced over her shoulder and froze seeing the man Alys had come with looking at her intently. She pulled back slightly as he sat down next to her, shocked to feel her heart pounding hard, knowing it was strange to say the least.

She felt uncomfortable.

He held out his hand with his cigarette to her and she shook her head without looking at him, wondering if she should return home. He grinned, letting the smoke out loudly through his nose.

"Are you running away from her too?" He asked with some kind of amusement, his voice low, deep, slightly hoarse. She felt a shudder at his words and looked at him uneasily with a expression of surprise on her face, wondering what he was implying.

She was running away from whom?

From Alys?

She swallowed loudly, recognising that his words were rude.

They might not have liked each other, but she was her sister.

"Why be with someone you're running away from?" She asked frustrated, wondering if he had come to arouse her sister's jealousy, to tease her at her expense.

She had no intention of getting dragged into any of their games.

She felt a squeeze in her throat when he looked at her with some kind of mockery – before responding to her, he pressed his cigarette to his lips and took a deep drag, letting the smoke out along with his words.

"She can fuck well." He hummed, as if it was a normal, decent response.

She shook her head in disbelief and stood up, moving ahead, leaving him alone. She walked into her house and passed Alys, who wanted to ask her a question.

"Did you perhaps see −"

"− in the garden."

She couldn't look at him for the entire dinner and, as if he was doing it on purpose, he took the seat opposite her before Alys could decide for him where they would sit. She told him to move closer to her mother, but he settled comfortably in his chair, playing with his fork.

"No. I'm fine here." He muttered, throwing her a long, meaningful look. She pressed her lips together, swallowing loudly, feeling sick to her stomach.

She thought they were both worthy of each other.

She had no idea what their relationship was, but Alys liked to live on the edge and perhaps that was what she experienced with him.

Extreme emotions.

Her older sister finally sat down next to him, noticing her at last, asking her questions out of politeness that she didn't feel like answering, seeing him looking at her with a smirk that made her sick.

What kind of man was this?

"How are you doing in your studies? What are you reading now? Any poetry?" She asked in her soft, low, feminine voice, taking a sip of wine, fixing her long black hair.

She exhaled quietly, swallowing hard, looking down at her plate, on which lay an uneaten piece of meat.

"I'm reading the prose of Witold Gombrowicz right now. He's a Polish writer." She explained, convinced that her sister would certainly not know who it was, she, however, surprised her as she blinked, looking at her partner in wonder.

"Gombrowicz… do you by any chance have books by this author in your flat, Aemond?" She asked him curiously, his gaze, however, not even paying her a moment's attention, fixed on her, making her feel like sinking to the ground.

"Yes." He replied briefly, with some kind of satisfaction from which she grew hot, feeling uncomfortable with the idea that she had any interest in common with the man who sat before her. Alys stirred in her chair, intrigued.

"That's interesting. Well, tell me, little sister, what this Gombrowicz is writing about." She said lightly, putting a bit of salad on her plate.

She felt some kind of humiliation at her words, like a monkey in a circus who was now going to juggle her knowledge for her enjoyment. She sighed quietly, giving up, having no idea how to explain it to her.

"It's complicated." She said truthfully, and her sister snorted.

"Don't you know what you're reading about? What are they teaching you in these studies?" She asked with lively amusement. She felt a tightening in her throat and tears pushing into her eyelids, which she held back with difficulty.

She exhaled and looked at the man sitting in front of her, staring at her expectantly, intrigued as to what she would do, how she would answer, the fingers of his hand rubbing against each other in a gesture of anticipation.

"Gombrowicz uses difficult metaphors, swaps out certain words, using other, infantile ones in their place. Most of it is written as if he himself is the protagonist of events, it is like his stream of consciousness, the plot is simultaneously present and absent.

What all his books have in common is that he is a broken man, rejected by Poland and the Poles because he fled to Argentina on the Transatlantic right after the outbreak of the Second World War instead of staying and fighting.

Everything he writes about is his relationship with his country, which he loves and hates, which he longs for and abhors, his despair about his sexuality and his psyche. He wrote all his life in Polish, but he did not return to Poland, the communists did not want to publish his work.

He was unable to express his feelings in another language and although he was considered a traitor, in my opinion his true feeling for his country, the enormity of his suffering in seeing how much poison there was in his nation, which he pointed his fingers at when others praised it to the skies, is expressed in his work.

He is, in my opinion, an outstanding author." She said on almost one exhale, grabbing her glass of water. She took a deep sip from it, setting it down with a loud clink of glass, not looking at them, feeling her heart pounding hard.

Her sister blinked, raising her eyebrows, shaking her head.

"Oh, Mother, so many long sentences, and I still don't know exactly what his books are about. Anyway, I'm glad that you're doing well with your studies." She said lightly, and she shuddered to see a wide, dangerous smile spread across the lips of the man before her.

He was enjoying what was happening.

He drew satisfaction from it.

Her sister went back to eating, turning to their aunt across the table, not seeing that she was struggling to hold back tears of humiliation.

Nor did she see the way her partner looked at her sister, unaware that he was giving her far too much attention.

She thought they were both fucked up.

She knew that another half hour at the most and she could run upstairs to her room saying she would go to bed and leave this whole gathering.

She saw Aemond grab a bottle of wine and pour himself half a glass, her sister threw him a puzzled, upset look.

"You're driving, aren't you?" She burbled, and he hummed under his breath, taking a deep sip. He set his glass down without looking at her.

"Not anymore. I'm tired."

She felt a squeeze in her pit at the thought that he was trying to make them stay here instead of going back to the city.

She thought the last thing she wanted was to listen to them moaning on the other side of the wall and looked away, resigned and tired.

According to her plan, after several minutes she said a polite goodbye to everyone and said she would go to bed now, not honouring him or her sister with a single glance.

She changed into her pyjamas consisting of a T-shirt and shorts and locked her door, wanting to make sure no one tried to enter her room.

She swallowed loudly when, an hour later, she heard their voices in the corridor, lifting her gaze from the book she had just been reading in the light of her bedside lamp while sitting on her bed.

"I told you already, I don't want to stay here overnight. Let's order an Uber." Her sister insisted, she could hear her muffled, frustrated voice.

"And I told you I am tired. I'd like to finally fucking rest. You wanted me to come, I came, and now I want to go to bed. Is that so fucking much?" She heard his low, angry voice and felt discomfort at the thought of hearing every word knowing that this was their private conversation.

"Can you keep your voice down? Do you always have to act like a little child? And why are you looking like a pervert at my little sister, huh? Do you think I can't see? Do you want to fuck her?" She hissed out in a whisper, and she felt her heart pounding hard, ashamed, embarrassed and horrified by her words, by the fact that she had noticed it and pretended that nothing had happened.

She heard his low chuckle.

"Maybe I want to. Maybe she wouldn't act like a bitch to me like you do." He growled and she heard a loud splat followed by complete silence.

She slapped him.

She stared at her door, breathing unevenly, swallowing her saliva with difficulty, wondering if she should come out and intervene or if it was better to stay quiet.

"Get the fuck out of my house." She hissed and he laughed, as if her words amused him.

"Fuck no. I'll stay here overnight and drive home in the morning by my car. If you want, order an Uber. Sorry −"

She heard someone come upstairs and from the way he spoke she deduced that it was her mother.

"− will it be a problem if I stay here overnight? I feel bad and I wouldn't want to go back to the city in this condition." He said lowly.

There was silence again – she thought that her mother didn't know what to do, having surely heard at least some of their argument.

"− I − yes − of course −" She muttered after a while. She heard the sound of a door opening on the other side of the corridor, their voices becoming increasingly indistinct.

Then she heard the loud clatter of Alys' heels, her and her mother's voices as they ran down the stairs.

"Fucking bastard." Said her sister, their mother trying to reassure her.

"− after all, I can't just throw him out, since you invited him −"

She heard the loud slamming of the front door. She got up on trembling legs and walked slowly to the window, seeing her sister lighting a cigarette with trembling hands, wiping her cheeks.

She cried.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the sight, and even though she had hurt her so often with her words, she felt sorry for her. After a moment, she saw an Uber pull up in front of their house, and she got into it and just drove off.

She swallowed loudly at the thought that she had gone, but he had stayed.

What was he planning?

She turned off her lamp, hiding under the duvet, swallowing loudly, listening for any sounds. She felt restless – she couldn't fall asleep and she shivered feeling her heart pounding hard.

She felt that something was about to happen.

She shuddered, snapped out of a deep sleep when she heard a quiet knock on her door. She glanced quickly at her phone's display and saw that it was two o'clock in the morning.

She looked at her door, figuring that if she didn't get up he would go away, but he knocked again. She covered her face with her hands, feeling tears under her eyelids with fear.

"Please, go away. Please." She said pleadingly, wanting him to take pity on her, not having the strength for it, for their pushing and shoving, for him to fuck her now when in a week's time they'd be back together with her sister, looking for thrills, hating and loving each other like two elements.

She had no intention of being anyone's plaything.

"I want to talk about Gombrowicz." He said lowly and she groaned loudly, licking her lips, shaking her head.

"It's two in the morning." She muttered beggingly, not understanding completely what he had in mind.

"I'm not going until we talk about him." He said after a moment in a matter-of-fact, cool tone, and she sighed heavily, stood up and walked to the door, turning the key.

She opened it for him and there he was, standing in front of her, looking down at her with an indifferent expression on his face. He stepped inside as if nothing had happened, walking up to the window, opening it wide, pulling cigarettes and a lighter from the back pocket of his trousers.

She thought surprised that she had never met such an insolent man in her life.

She simply closed the door behind him, sitting down on her bed, leaning her back against the wall, covering her bare legs with the duvet.

He didn't look at her but out of the window, straight into the night, his face lit by the warm flame of the fire, his cigarette hissed. He took a drag of it, settling comfortably on her wide windowsill, silent for a long moment.

"Have you read Trans-Atlantyk?" He asked at last indifferently, still not looking at her while letting the smoke out with his mouth, his face turned in profile to her. She swallowed loudly, all tense, wrapping her knees with her hands.

"Yes." She replied quietly.

Silence fell between them again, broken only by the hiss of his cigarette each time he took a drag.

"What do you think about it?" He asked at last, just as matter-of-factly and dispassionately. She pressed her lips together, sleepy and tired.

"That it's his best book." She said truthfully, throwing him a depressed, exhausted look.

She didn't have the strength for this.

She just wanted to go to sleep.

"Why?" He continued, and she sighed heavily, placing her forehead on her knees.

"Because it is his response to what has been going on around him. It is his answer to all the accusations made against him. Proof that his country was not at all indifferent to him – on the contrary, although he wanted to, he could not eradicate it from his heart. He saw what was poisoning his country from within. What was destroying it and he had the courage to speak out about it.

He spoke of it with irony and contempt, but when you read into his words, there is only deep feeling and regret there, regret that his country cannot be what he would like, what he needs, what he loves. His people do not reciprocate this feeling, do not see the need to change, that everything is declining.

His feelings are complicated, but therefore true, because he shows that there are no easy answers. Out of the chaos of his thoughts there emerges some truth, some core, and although elusive, although dressed up in humour and irony that made me laugh, after reading this book I wanted to cry."

She said exactly what she felt, regardless of whether he was listening or not. She heard him hum at her words, silent for a long moment, his cigarette almost completely burnt out.

"After I first read this book I couldn't sleep. I felt anxious. As if I had suddenly entered someone's mind, heard their private thoughts and then no longer knew whether I or the author was thinking about something. I had never felt anything like that before." He said calmly, running his tongue over his lower lip, dropping his cigarette into her glass of water that stood on her desk.

She looked at him uncertainly noticing that his face was no longer so tense and aggressive – he was lying comfortably spread out, leaning his back against a wall, pulling another cigarette from his pack.

She considered his words in silence, recognising with surprise that she understood what he was talking about, that she had in fact felt the same way when she read this author's books.

"Can I sleep here with you?" He asked suddenly, and she threw him a shocked, horrified look. She watched him nonchalantly light another cigarette.

What?

"− no − I − God −" She mumbled out, burying her face in her hands, wanting to tell him that he was just terrifying her, that what he was asking was wrong in so many different ways and was putting her in a very awkward position.

She felt a certain discomfort looking at his face, feeling that it was some kind of game, that he was testing her.

"− I can sleep on the floor − I won't touch you −" He said finally looking at her, letting out a puff of smoke with a quiet hiss of his lips.

She couldn't tell what she saw in that look, dark, cold, proud.

He, however, was still sitting in the same place and still looking at her.

"I don't believe you. You want to have fun at my expense, but I don't feel like it. We've talked, now leave. Please." She said, looking bravely into his face, trying to sound as soft as possible.

She had no intention of offending him.

She just wanted him to let her alone.

"I don't love your sister." He said lightly, as if he were talking about the weather. She snorted, shaking her head.

"I don't care. She cried today because of you after she left our house. You're insolent and unpleasant, intruding on me in my own home and making me feel uncomfortable." She choked out, frustrated and angry, furrowing her brow, feeling that she was losing patience.

He, however, chuckled lowly at her words, amused, shaking the ash from his cigarette out of the window.

"She was crying? That's interesting. She didn't give a shit that you almost cried because of her at the table." He murmured, glancing at her curiously, clearly wanting to check her reaction. She pressed her lips together at his words.

"She told me about you. What an ugly duckling you are. That you don't know how to dress well, don't know how to accentuate your figure and your assets. That you hide yourself in big sweatshirts and sit with your nose in books instead of really living and that there's nothing to talk to you about because you can't converse about anything interesting." He mused, taking another drag, cocking his head with curiosity.

"It's none of your business. Get out." She said dryly.

He stood up, approaching her slowly, crouching in front of her bed – he placed his elbows on her bedding, his cigarette in his mouth, which he lightly removed with his hand as he caught his balance.

She felt pain in her heart at his words and tightness in her throat, her fingers clenched on the material of her duvet, her eyebrows arching in anguish. She felt tears under her eyelids again, but she didn't want to give this bastard any satisfaction.

"Get out." She repeated coolly in a trembling voice, looking at him coldly.

"Did you tell her what she wanted to hear too, before you got bored?" She asked with derision, the corner of her mouth twitching in a mocking smile. She saw his gaze darken – he licked his lower lip involuntarily as if he recognised that he was accepting her challenge.

"But when I saw you today I understood why she said that. Because you're pretty. Because you're kind. Polite and cultured. Because you can converse about high literature, and she just doesn't understand what you're talking about. You don't have to spend hours applying make-up, wearing deep necklines and tight dresses to be naturally beautiful. To attract and intrigue. She's fucking jealous of you, little one." He hummed and she felt a shudder at the way he called her, thinking how inappropriate it was.

She pressed her body against the wall, wanting to be as far away from him and his words as possible, feeling hot, thinking that he was manipulating her.

"I didn't have to say much. She prefers to fuck, you know? To feel desired." He murmured lowly, taking another drag, looking at her expectantly, some dangerous glint in his eye.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked finally, feeling that she didn't have the strength for it, that she just wanted him to leave her alone. He grinned in a way that made her feel a shiver.

"Just so you know the problem isn't with you." He said lightly, as if it was obvious. She shook her head unable to follow his train of thought.

"Why are you with her if you despise her?" She asked, feeling that she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, her voice slightly raised and trembling.

"Because she has big tits and a big ass. Because she sucks cock well." He said calmly and she shook her head, feeling embarrassed by his words, feeling as one by one tears began to run down her cheeks.

She covered her face with her hands, feeling that it was too much for her, that they were both worthy of each other.

Why was he meddling her in their affairs?

"− hey − hey, little one −" He whispered – she felt the mattress next to her bend under his weight and she immediately jumped back, terrified, pushing him away, shaking her head.

"− no − please, no, leave −" She mumbled out, but he just put his arms around her and pressed her against his chest. She could hear his heart beating fast – he smelled of wine, cigarettes and some intense, masculine perfume.

"− please, let me go −" She wailed through her tears, but he hushed her, his free hand stroking her hair, the other holding his cigarette.

She felt him lean his back against the wall and settle into a half-lying position, drawing her with him, his large, warm hand roaming over her head and back, in some strange, irrational way making her feel comfortable.

"− cry −" He whispered quietly with some kind of understanding, as if he knew what she was going through, and although she didn't want to, she allowed herself to burst into sobs, along with her tears flowing out of her all the years she felt next to her sister like nobody.

She didn't want to come off as the jealous one, the one who couldn't enjoy other people's successes, but she understood that Alys never praised her sincerely – everything she said was the bare minimum so that no one could accuse her of being judgmental towards her.

She felt bad at the thought of sobbing in her man's embrace, cuddled up to his chest, but she couldn't help it. She didn't have the strength anymore: she just wanted to sleep, to simply rest.

"− it's okay, little one − I know −" He hummed stroking her hair with slow, tender movements, playing with her curls once in a while, smoking his cigarette, the pleasant, cool night air breezing over her warm, red cheeks.

They were both quiet, lying like that in silence, looking towards the window. She sniffed with her nose and snuggled into him, surrendering.

She thought that if he tried to rape her she would start screaming loudly to wake her family, but some subconscious feeling told her that he wouldn't do it.

That for some reason he too sought comfort in her.

"− I'm done with her, you know? − after what I saw today − after the way she spoke to you I realised that she has no respect not only for me, but even for her immediate family − I was deluding myself that she was only saying that to me because I'm a piece of shit, but I was wrong −" He murmured quietly, weariness and discouragement in his voice. She swallowed loudly, trembling in his embrace.

"You don't speak respectfully to her either." She whispered resentfully, wondering if he really thought he was blameless.

He chuckled quietly at her words – she shuddered when she felt him kiss her hair as if they had been close, as if they had known each other for years. He rested his chin on the top of her head, playing with her hair.

"− that's true − but I don't pretend to be a saint − I know what I want and I make it clear − she hides her desires behind pretty, empty words −" He grunted, stroking her head with a calm, steady motion of his hand.

For some reason what he was doing was calming her down _ she was no longer so frightened, though she still felt strange and uncomfortable.

"If you make it clear what you want, why don't you say why you came here?" She asked with a grudge, feeling pain at the thought of him toying with her and getting exactly what he wanted. He hummed, letting the smoke out through his nose.

"I already told you. I want to talk to you about Gomborowicz and sleep in the same bed with you." He murmured low, kissing her head again, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her hair.

She felt bad at the thought that for some reason it was pleasurable, that she felt a sense of satisfaction that she was now the one in bed with him and not her sister.

She shuddered when his hand slid up to her face and lifted her chin, forcing her to rise her head. She drew in a loud breath when she felt his full lips immediately pressed to hers, soft, wet and hot, his tobacco-tasting tongue invading deep into her throat making her feel throbbing between her thighs.

She pressed her hand against his sleek black jumper, ashamed and terrified that she didn't have the strength to resist him, that she was taking pleasure in the way his fingers stroked her cheek gently as their tongues met and licked with a loud, lewd clicks, slick and sticky from their saliva, his cigarette slowly burning out in his other hand.

She wasn't sure she'd ever been so terrified and aroused at the same time, her heart pounding like mad. She felt her moisture between her thighs, so she clenched her legs tightly to relieve herself any way she could.

She knew he felt it – his hand slid from her face down her back to her buttocks and slipped from behind between her thighs, his fingers pressed against the material of her shorts, rubbing her there in sure, slow, circular motions.

"No." She mumbled and pulled away from him, terrified, feeling that this had gone too far, that she couldn't do this, that she wouldn't let him take advantage so that he could then laugh in Alys face with the satisfaction that her little sister had welcomed him between her thighs with joy.

They stared at each other with eyes wide open, breathing embarrassingly loudly.

"Come here."

"Please, get out."

"Come."

She felt her heart pounding hard, knowing that they were now fighting each other for dominance, for who would have the last word, who would give in.

"If you don't leave, I'm going to get up and wake my parents saying that you came to my room in the middle of the night and you won't leave me alone." She said dryly. He pressed his lips together feeling that her words were final, that she wasn't joking.

"You don't want me to leave." He whispered lowly pressing his lips together, breathing unevenly, his cigarette extinguished.

She swallowed loudly involuntarily glancing down and felt a shudder as she saw the bulge in his trousers.

He was hard.

She shook her head feeling her tears gather in the corners of her eyes again.

"I can't, I'm sorry, it was a mistake. I don't want to do it, not like this, it's wrong. Fuck!" She cursed, knowing it had gone too far anyway, burying her face in her hands, heartbroken that she could have done such a thing to her own sister.

She heard him rose lazily, dropping his second cigarette into her glass of water. He looked at her over his shoulder in a way that made her feel a tightness in her throat.

"I'm sorry, little one. I didn't mean to hurt you. Really." He said lowly with some kind of pain and just walked out, leaving her alone at last.

She collapsed on her bed, covering herself with her duvet up to her head, wanting to hide, to disappear, to sink into the ground.

She couldn't believe how close it was.

How close it was for them to fuck.

She cried her eyes out terrified that she felt tension between her thighs, that she was aroused.

That some part of her wanted him to come back and finish what he had started.

She was awakened in the morning by the loud slam of the front door of her house. She got up quickly, walking over to her open window, looking out of it into the driveway.

She saw him open his car door and give her one last look, as if he hoped he would see her there. She felt a strange tightening in her heart and pain, burning tears under her eyelids.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him – after a moment she heard the muffled sound of music and the whirr of an engine.

She watched with a blank stare as he drove away and disappeared around the corner, pressing her forehead against the frame of the window, feeling a river of tears begin to run down her cheeks.

She wiped her face with her hands, heartbroken that this man had brought her to such a state in one evening, and turned away, wanting to return to her bed.

I wish I had met you before her.

She froze, spotting something white on the floor beneath her door. After a moment, she noticed that it was a folded piece of paper and she walked over to it quickly, picking it up from the floor and opened it. There was only one sentence written inside.

Aemond Taglist:

_____

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

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starry-bi-sky · 8 months ago

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im having more fem Danyal thoughts. But specifically I've been thinking about Dani in this au. Now, Fem Danyal is just the alt. version of Danny to my other DAG au, which means she follows that lore. that being said. Danyal and Dani already had a pretty rocky introduction in the first place, ANd if we follow canon's setup, Dani in fem!Danyal's world would be a boy rather than a girl. I'm gonna call him Ali for easier difference (my train of thought was Daniel -> Eli -> Ali). While Danny may resemble Talia more than Bruce, Danny and Damian still look very similar to each other. Their blood relation is unquestionable.

You can imagine how fem Danyal might feel, walking into her room one day after school, and finding a little boy on her bed who looks, at first glance, like the little brother she loves to death. If meeting Ellie triggered Kill Bill Sirens in Danny's head, meeting Ali bass boosted them. For a terrifying, fleeting moment, Danny thinks Damian is right there. That somehow, her clever, intelligent little brother found out she was alive and tracked her down.

She slams the door shut, completely at a loss for words. Her heart has nearly stopped a second time. Then she realizes: this boy's eyes are blue. Not green. He looks too old to be her brother. His jawline too narrow, his hair too messy. As he talks, his voice is not the same as the sparse few videos on the internet showing Damian speaking. This is not the child she helped take his first steps with, nor the child she watched utter his first words. This is not the boy whom she taught to pick up a sword; this is not her brother.

Safe to say, Ali gets a knife pulled on him much, much faster than his female counterpart did. He lives, fortunately, but their relationship is unsteady and rocky even after Ali betrays Vlad and joins Danny.

Danny is unsettled by him, not for being her clone -- although that plays a minor part -- but because every time he drifts into her peripherals, she keeps thinking it's Damian. And it spooks her half out of her mind. She gets her hopes up at the same time her heart drops, then she turns her head, and it's not Damian; it's Dani.

It's also why she won't call him 'Dani', it's one letter too close to 'Dami' and she's afraid she'll call him that if she's not careful. So when he brings it up jokingly, she immediately shoots it down; "I'll call you Eli." instead. (Ali thinks she's boring -- he thought 'danny with a y' and 'dani with an i' was funny. Frankly, so did Danny, but she's too uncomfortable with the idea of calling him Dani.)

When he asks her why, she lies and says it's to prevent confusion. When their relationship is better, "Eli" eventually becomes "Ali".

("Why Ali?" he'll ask her, with an ear pressed against her ribs while Danny coils one of his curls around her finger. She's steadily become more and more affectionate; Danny has the impeccable ability of making it seem so forced and stiff and natural at the same time.)

("Do you not like it?" She'll ask him, voice stilted and unsure. She's got her heart in her throat, but she's starting to stop seeing Damian whenever she looks down. "We can keep it Eli if you'd like.")

("No, no. I like it. Just... why Ali? Does it mean anything?")

(Danny will smooth her palm over Ali's forehead, scratching his hairline with her nails, and feel embarrassed. She'll be silent until he looks up at her, and then she clears her throat. "It means eminent; exalted; noble.")

(Ali stares at her in dead silence, long enough that she starts to grow worried. Then tears bubble up in his eyes, and for a moment Danny thinks she said something wrong. "I lied;" he croaks, "I love it.")

(She will hesitate, and then wipe the tears off with her thumbs. "Ali al Ghul," she'll mutter, "but that name is for you and I only. To the world, you're Ali Fenton." Perhaps she shouldn't be giving him her mother's last name, but he is of her blood now too.)

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #fem danyal al ghul #fem danny fenton #does this mean that ellie eventually changes her name and has a moment kinda like this with og danyal? yes. i just havent found a name #that i like for ellie that both fits her character and still sounds recognizable to her. Ali was perfect because it sounded so close to Eli #do i believe that Danyal and Ellie's relationship would've been fundamentally different if Ellie ended up being a boy in the original au?#yes. there would've been a very similar or the exact same result as it did with fem danyal imo. danyal was already uncomfortable with her #just for being another little sibling *alone.* my man was not comfy with the fact that he had another blood sibling even if she was a siste #if ellie had been a brother instead? the result would've been the same as it was here.

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kyoteugly · 2 months ago

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If not Buddie, why Buddie shaped? #2

Following my theory that season 7 and 8 are new seasons 1 and 2 on abc, where the writers revisits the big events from character’s pasts and retells them (you can read it here) I want to look closer at new episode 8x06 “Confessions”.

This is all fresh in my mind, I watched the episode like 4h ago, there is a chance I’ll miss something.

Like I said, I think we’re going to see at least 4 more big moments revisited (or rather the emotional state those events invoked) from previous seasons before Buddie goes canon. Kitchen scene, well, will and shooting arc. And one of those happened in this episode! But also so many other things!

EDDIE:

Starting with Eddie in the confessional. I can’t help but see his fight club era here (call me bias, I love season 3 Eddie so much!). An attempt to find a healthy outlet to his emotions. He’s struggling and fighting with his inner demons, this time instead of rage it’s sadness and loneliness.

And he is doing it with an outsider's help. Father Brian is like Lena Bosko. Why Lena and not Frank? I think Eddie would just shut on therapy at this point. He needs someone to talk to, someone with opinions and advice, caring enough to want to help but also not afraid to go straight to the point and call his bs - Lena and Father Brian did just that.

Ok. Time to revisit a big event from Eddie’s past - the well. ABC put the call with the little boy trapped in a pipe in episode promo as the red herring. The real purpose of this call was to remind us about the Eddie Begins episode. The important thing from Eddie Begins is that Eddie was alone in the dark pit - and in the end he saved himself.

So the real connection between those two episodes is not in the call where 118 saves the little boy, but between Eddie coming out from underwater, drawing a deep breath and Eddie shaving a mustache, shedding his mask and dancing, breathing fully again.

sorry for the meme, I'm tired

It’s also interesting that the moment Eddie allowed himself to feel joy Buck knocked at his door.

BUCK:

This one is pretty straight forward. Like I said before, Tommy represents Abby - a transformative relationship - like Buck said himself. The fact that Tommy was engaged with Abby is a really beautiful way to further connect and close both relationships. What leads to the break up from Tommy’s side is also similar. Tommy knows he would fall deeply for Buck, and Abby didn’t come back because she knew she would lose herself in Buck. They were both protecting themselves.

And here is also a little parallel to Ali. Like her, Tommy offers Buck a proper and honest break up, showing maturity, understanding and clear reason why. And yes, Ali was also protecting herself, ending their relationship before they broke each other's hearts.

And one more thing from Buck’s side. The whole Abby thing throws him off. Maddie tells him it’s not a big thing, Josh tells him not to judge Tommy (honestly, Josh’s speech is amazing!) - this calms him down in the end, dating the same woman doesn’t feel awkward anymore. But the questions Josh is asking leave Buck confused. Taking the next step, moving in together - it’s like Buck is trying to prove he really feels those things Josh was talking about (or maybe even compensate for his “freak out”, confirm he’s fully into this relationship). And on some level Buck has those feelings, he cares about Tommy, but more than that, he simply feels he should be on the level Josh suggested and he wants this to work. It’s Buck’s impulsiveness coming to play, an action that causes reaction in a form of big gesture to confirm his feelings - a nod to his relationship with Taylor.

Fortunately Tommy explains those feelings to Buck (and to the audience) in a very kind way.

Honestly, their relationship (the last two episodes especially) was handled beautifully, without unnecessary drama, without too much spotlight. It started with fireworks, naturally progressed and faded gently.

The cherry on top: Evan meant something more, something special for Tommy. Ending his goodbye with Buck means “we’re friends now”.

BUDDIE:

There are two things here I want to mention.

Ever since Gerrard separated Buck and Eddie this is the episode where we can see them working together as partners again. And this finally wraps up the divorce era.

The ending scene represents different scenes for each of them, ending different arcs.

For Buck the couch scene represents Abby’s comeback in season 3. He watched her ride off in the ambulance with her fiance (with Eddie solid by his side), and later he got closure from her.

For Eddie this scene represents him being embraced by the 118 after he dug himself out from the well. He’s connected again, no longer alone.

And of course, the most obvious and sweetest thing - it’s the right couch (and they finally drink that beer).

Bonus MADNEY:

Couldn’t help but notice some revisits here. Maddie’s postpartum depression is addressed very clearly, nothing to add here. During the pandemic Chimney stayed at Buck’s place, afraid to put pregnant Maddie in danger of catching the virus. Something happened on a call that changed his mind, made him overcome his fear and enjoy the future with his family. The same in this episode. But there is a little twist here and it involves brothers. In season 7 the new audience learned about Kevin. Guess who wasn’t yet introduced (and also took care of Maddie during the pandemic)... yes, I believe this season we will see Albert again.

That’s it for now. Let me know if you want more posts like this. Feel free to contact me if you want some clarification or just to talk.

Tagging some people who may be interested (if you want me to remove you from this post let me know): @buddiebeginz @stagefoureddiediaz @lemotmo @inell

#if not buddie why buddie shaped?#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #911 abc #my stuff #911 meta #911 spoilers #911 analysis #911 season 8

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albertasunrise · 5 months ago

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Hope You Can Forgive Me - Hope

Masterlist

GIF by olisgifs

Summary: After Joel loses his wife and your best friend during childbirth. You support him as he takes on parenthood on his own at 22. But when feelings start to develop, you battle with the guilt you feel for falling for your best friend’s husband.

Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+… this is to avoid spoilers! (So here is my first fic update since having Lando! I hope this was worth the wait and I can't wait to hear what you all think. There is some time hopping in this chapter but it's all necessary. Enjoy ♥️)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

The words hung in the air between you. Swirling around in his head as he processed that he was sitting at a table with you after all this time. That you were smiling softly at him, not growling at him in frustration because he’d gotten on your nerves for the final time.

“Tommy told me that you ended up going back to the hospital after you left that day and I-“

“You mean the day you tossed me out?” He interrupted, surprised by how he suddenly felt 10 years of anger surge to the surface.

“Joel I-“

“I don’t need your sorries.” He stated plainly and you nodded numbly “What I needed then was for you to see how badly I was doing but you couldn’t.”

He couldn’t say he blamed you really. You were facing life with a partner who was never going to walk again whilst you had to raise his toddler and the newborn baby you shared.

‘Dwelling on the past isn’t going to change it so let's just agree to move on.” He piped up after a tense pause and he could have laughed at how your shoulders dropped and you allowed yourself to relax.

You both sat in awkward silence for a while before Joel finally broke it. His question brought a proud smile to your face.

“Noah’s turned out to be a fine young man.” He stated as he took a sip of his coffee “Sarah’s besotted with him.”

“He’s just like his father.” You gushed “Patient and kind.” You continued as you looked down at the wedding band and engagement ring that you still wore “He’d never said a cross word to me till recently. Learning that he and Sarah had been inseparable as babies was tough on him.

“He pleaded with me to reach out to you but I confess… I didn’t think you’d want to speak to me after everything.”

“I never stopped caring.” Joel stated honestly “I have spent the last decade blaming myself for that crash… it should have been me that-“

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” You pleaded as you stared at him with round, tear-filled, eyes “The accident was not your fault! The truck driver is the one to blame for what happened and it was wrong of me to blame you.” You let out a long sigh before taking a large sip of coffee before continuing “I was pregnant and hormonal and facing having to care long-term for my partner as well as raise a toddler and a newborn.

“Life looked bleak and I just needed someone to blame… but I shouldn’t have blamed you.” You choked out, voice wobbling as you spoke that last statement.

Joel remained silent. Watching you as you pulled yourself together before continuing.

“I should have seen that you weren’t well, you're right.” You started again after a few tense moments of silence “After Tommy told me what happened… my mind started to replay everything and it was so obvious that something was wrong. I should have seen it… not shut you out so I could wallow in my own misery.”

“I get it… I do-“

“But it doesn’t excuse it, Joel.” You interrupted “I should have done better by you and I’m sorry.”

Joel nodded. Giving you a small smile before downing the last dregs of his coffee.

“Well… now that all the tense formalities are out of the way… shall we get another coffee and catch up properly?” He asked with a grin, instantly lifting the mood.

“That would be wonderful.”

2 months later…

Joel watched from the patio as Noah and Sarah played a heated game of swing ball, Ali watching from the sidelines as she cheered her brother on. Tommy was at the grill, having promised Joel that he could ‘cook some damn burgers’, leaving the older Miller to watch the two childhood sweethearts play. Memories of a little Noah showing an even smaller Sarah how to throw a ball flashed in his mind. They had always played so well together.

Some things never change it seemed.

Joel’s attention was torn away from Sarah and her beau and towards you, as you placed the salad and condiments in the centre of the table.

“Foods up!” Called Tommy and soon the table was filled with chatter as everyone dug in.

It felt like old times. Only, someone was missing.

Once the food was consumed and the dishes dealt with, Sarah, Ali and Noah slunk away to read their books under the tree at the bottom of Joel's garden, leaving you, Joel and Tommy to sip at your cold beers and catch up.

"How's things been with you?" Tommy asked you as he turned to face you. It was something that you had always liked about Tommy. When he was talking to you he gave you his undivided attention and never butted in when you spoke. Something that Alec and his family had always done that had driven you to distraction... But never the Miller boys. They always listened to what you had to say.

"Yeah, they're good." You nodded as you replied and placed your bottle on the table "Starting to meld well with the nice team. Making some friends too which is nice."

"Any hot men in the office catch your eye?"

Tommy's question took you by surprise and you couldn't help but glance at Joel a moment before you answered. He was looking anywhere but you and Tommy as they both awaited your answer and you felt a small pang of hope fill you. Why, you weren't sure.

"Not really looking for anything at the moment." You said, shrugging your shoulders "Been so focused on work and the kids the last few months that I haven't really thought about what comes next."

Your eyes drifted to Noah and Ali who were talking animatedly about, you assumed, something that had happened in the books they were holding. Both had ended up bookworms like their dad, something you were glad of as they had grown up. Buying them books to distract them from the reality of how sick Alec had been.

"Plus Alec hasn't been gone long. Would be wrong for me to just move on."

"You're entitled to be happy." Tommy stated plainly as he gave you that signature Miller look "He would want you to live life to the fullest. Lord knows you've earned that."

"I guess." You shrugged.

Truth be told, since coming back into the Miller's lives your feelings for Joel had started to stir again. He had turned out to be an incredible father, not that you had doubted him for a second but he had been forced to take on parenthood completely on his own when you had left. Ali's parents had died a few years after the accident leaving Joel with just Tommy for family but he had been in the army. So he had to take it all on by himself and he had flourished. Sarah was a kind, polite and caring young girl and the spitting image of her mother. Something that had made you both happy and sad. Happy, that she had turned out so beautiful, but sad because there wasn't a day that went by that you didn't miss Ali. So much so that you had named your own daughter after her.

"How about you brother?" Tommy asked, taking the attention off of you "How's things been with that chick you're dating?"

"We've been on like two dates Tommy." Joel sighed but his brother shrugged.

'Still dating her." He chuckled as he took a long pull of his beer "Given her the Miller magic yet?" Joel choked on his beer as the words settled between you and your stomach sank.

He was dating?

Of course, he was dating. He was an attractive young man, why wouldn't he? Yet this information felt like a punch to the gut. You knew you had no right to feel this way about Joel seeing someone yet it was a fight to keep the tears at bay. You would later realise as you analysed your feelings over a large glass of wine at home that a small part of you had always held onto the hope that one day, you and Joel may have had your chance.

That after all these years, he would realise how you felt and would return those feelings. You would later realise that that was a fool's hope.

You had broken things beyond repair with Joel all those years ago.

There was no hope for the two of you now. There was no way he felt the same way about you.

Oh if only you knew.

You had found yourself quickly falling into old traditions with the Millers. Regular gatherings at Joels where food and laughter are shared only this time Noah and Sarah weren't babies anymore. You found yourself missing their antics. Howthey used to hide behind the wooden castle climbing frame that Joel had built Sarah before she'd even made her entrance to the world. They would crouch behind it and giggle, thinking no one knew they were there and you would all chuckle at them and how perfect together they were. Even from such a young age.

You had found yourself wondering if Joel had ever thought about having more kids. He was still young after all, having had Sarah in his early twenties same as you had had Ali so young yourself. You had definitely thought that there would have been more children in your future but Alec's health hadn't allowed for that and so that dream of another baby had died along with him.

When Sandy had stepped into the fold, you had had your question of whether Joel wanted more kids answered from the moment she'd opened her mouth at the annual pre-Christmas get-together. She was young, late twenties and perky. Both physically and personality-wise.

She had sat there for hours talking about how she had no interest in having kids. That she liked them but that it had never appealed to her personally. You had asked Joel if he had thought about having any more to which he'd replied "Nah, one and done for me."

It had shocked you how blasé he had been about the subject and it had stung you. Why, you weren't sure but you supposed its because you had secretly hoped you'd have one with him one day.

Now though, that pipedream seemed an impossibility that Sandy was in the picture. You hated her for it...

You knew you had no reason to. She was sweet. There didn't appear to be a bad bone in her body but she grated on your nerves with her big eyes and sickly sweet smiles.

Your feelings for Joel may have had some bearing on your opinion of her you supposed.

Those pesky feelings had only continued to grow the more time you spent with Joel. You and he would alternate some nights during the week for dinners or movie nights. Ali and Sarah had become fast friends, something you had worried would irritate Noah now that his relationship with Sarah seemed to have developed a third wheel but on the contrary, he seemed to welcome her.

They still managed to find time to spend together without his sister hanging around but he didn't begrudge her presence when she was there. He'd always been a great big brother to her.

But now it seemed that you had become the third wheel in Joel's relationship with Sandy. These once peaceful evenings had been overtaken by her loud personality but Joel seemed to lap it up, completely oblivious to how you were starting to pull away. Unable to watch them be so sickeningly happy.

It all came to a head three months later. Unable to keep up the fake smiles any longer.

"So, I found a new taco recipe I want to try for Taco Tuesday this week." Joel stated as he dried the last dish and placed it on the drying rack beside the sink "Churizo with fried potatoes, avocados, onions and Cilantro... Read it in a magazine this week and I knew I had to try it."

"Sounds good." You answered numbly as you picked up the last few dried plates and cutlery to put away "I'm sure the kids will love it."

"You okay?" Joel asked upon sensing your tone.

"Mhmm." You knew your reply wasn't fooling anyone.

"Okay, what's up?" He asked, letting out a sigh as he turned his whole body to face you, rested his hip against the counter and crossed his arms, accentuating his strong arms and broad shoulders.

"Nothing it's just... I won't be able to make Taco Tuesday this week. Or movie night on Thursday." You replied, not looking at him as you spoke.

"Okay, I'll save that recipe for next week then."

"I can't go next week either." You replied bluntly and his brows furrowed as he looked across at you.

"Why not?"

"I'm going to be busy the next few weeks is all."

"Few weeks?" He questioned and you simply nodded.

"Yeah."

"Care to look at me whilst you lie to me?" He growled and you let out a long sigh before returning his gaze.

"I'm not lying to you, Joel." You growled "I have a lot going on with work so I won't be able to make our usual arrangements for a month or so.

"But the kids-"

"Can do all that shit without me." You replied, more snappy than you'd meant to.

"That shit?" Joel pushed, his tone sounding a little wounded "Is something going on? Did I do something?"

"No." You replied as you sighed loudly "You haven't done anything wrong."

It wasn't exactly a lie. His dating Sandy wasn't wrong. It just hurt you to watch.

Joel didn't push but he knew you weren't being honest with him. You had always been easy to read, wearing your heart on your sleeve for the world to see but he didn't understand why you were suddenly going cold on him. Things had fallen back into place so easily. He thought things were good. He didn't push it any further.

"You're still coming to the cook out week after next though right?" He asked and your heart broke at how hopeful he seemed.

"Yeah, I'll be there." You lied, hoping he would believe you and would drop it.

He seemed to buy it because his shoulders relaxed and he gave you a small smile. You smiled back but your stomach twisted painfully. You had two weeks to come up with a decent lie for why you couldn't make it. You knew it had to be believable or Joel would be around yours banging on your door and you knew you'd not be able to lie to him if that were to happen.

You left with Noah that evening barely gracing Joel or Sarah with a goodbye and it was from that that he knew something serious was up. Just didn't know how to find out.

...

Sandy had arrived a little after you had left. Cuddling on the couch, she instantly picked up on Joel's distracted state and didn't wait to question him on it. So he told her about how weird you had been that evening. How you'd suddenly become cold and closed off.

"I don't know what I've done." Joel sighed "She was just so off this evening and then she's suddenly telling me that she's going to be busy for the foreseeable and I just... I don't get it."

"Oh Joel, baby, you're such a typical bloke." Sandy chuckled sympathetically as she turned her top half to look at him "She's obviously got feelings for you."

"She doesn't have feelings for me." Joel scoffed "Don't be absurd."

"Why else would she suddenly stop hanging out with her friend the moment he meets someone?"

"I-"

"I've had my suspicions for a while but the last few times we've hung out it's been pretty clear that she's got feelings for you Joel."

"But she..."

"Would you like it if you had a crush on someone and their new beau was there all the time?" She asked and Joel sighed "I am happy to back off a little if you want to spend more time with her but I don't think she'll want to."

"She can't have feelings for me." He muttered and Sandy chuckled as she watched his mind whir.

"Perhaps you should go see her and find out." Sandy shrugged, smiling sweetly at Joel as he looked up at her "Give her some closure."

Joel parked across from your house before wiping his clammy hands on his jeans and willing his heart to slow. It had been a few days since that conversation with Sandy and what she'd told him played on repeat in his head. Did you really have feelings for him? He had never dared hope that maybe one day you would feel the same way he did.

He had been practising what he wanted to ask you all evening. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do if it transpired that you did feel the same. He supposed he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

Tommy had agreed to watch Sarah for the evening so that he could come to speak to you. He wasn't sure how this was going to go but he had wanted the option to stay a little later if things went the way he hoped they might.

Finally, as he had willed his heart to slow, your door swung open and grabbed his attention. He watched as you stepped outside slightly, looking at someone who was out of Joel's eyeline. You were smiling at them as you spoke, words that he could not hear from the cab of his car but you seemed to smile shyly at whoever you spoke them to. He hoped that youwouldn't notice his truck parked across the street as he watched you from the shadows. His stomach twisted when a man he didn't recognise stepped into view and leaned closer so he could place a kiss on your lips.

A myriad of emotions flooded him at once. He felt a pang of despair fill him as he watched you say your farewells for this man, but it quickly morphed into anger as he watched the man get in his car and drive off.

You hadn't bailed on him because you have feelings for him. You bailed because you wanted to focus on your new boy toy. You'd rather spend time with someone you barely know over him and his family. You had other priorities now.

And Joel wasn't one of them.

Next For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #last of us #the last of us #joel miller gif #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gif #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #last of us fanfiction

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youresodarkbabe · 10 months ago

Text

down on all fours (90s au rockstar a. turner x reader)

smut.

warnings: overstimulation, praise, degradation (yes, both of them), aly has dacryphilia <3, dom!al, spit :)

word count: 2.1k

everyone thank @psychedelicrocker for telling me to write this instead of f1 alex again, also it's not v obviously 90s au whoopsies

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

alex was fucked.

he had been trying to write one simple song for hours now, and nothing seemed to stick. either a lyric would be too complex for the tune or he'd dumb it down too much. there really was no in between.

in his defense, though, he was freshly free from the harsh confines of a world tour and had lost all semblance of sanity.

he kept pacing around his office until he realized something. through all of the fans and drugs and groupies, he remembered one thing that was a constant.

you.

you met alex at the new jersey show he did with his band and he was intrigued, to say the least. he brought you backstage and had his way with you, sure, but he wanted more. he needed it, or rather, you.

he got you tickets to their next show and told you to come if you could, and you did. you thoroughly enjoyed the show, just as much as you enjoyed the way he destroyed your cunt before it and the way he fucked you til you cried after. the cycle repeated, they'd finish a show, he'd give you tickets to the next one.

the boys hadn't really tried forming connections with the girls they took back to their hotel rooms because to them, it was just a one time thing, they were high and their girl of the night would be starstruck and it was a fun way to unwind post-show. alex had the same mindset for years. until you. you ruined him completely. as much as he adored tearing you apart with his cock, he obsessed over the way you'd laugh breathlessly after a good fuck. he knew he was gone the moment you kissed him, the way your lips felt against his— soft, gentle, caring— it changed him.

the feelings alex had towards you could be described in many ways. an obsession, a need, a want, a love.

he couldn't care less. as long as he had you.

he crumpled up the messy, inked sheet of paper in his hand and tosses it into the trash and runs over to his untouched suitcase and digs through it until he finds the note you gave him at the last show he'd perform before moving to the european leg of the tour. the note had your phone number along with your address and the words 'don't forget me' written with a heart.

he realizes that you only lived a few minutes down the road. he decides to take the risk and punches your number into his landline and holds the receiver up to his ear. you take your time to pick up, but he let it go, it was half past two anyways.

"um, hello?" your voice called out, almost instantly making the hairs on the back of his neck stand and his cock harden.

"hey, doll. been missin' you. been missin' your cunt, to be real specific. come over, i need my muse back." his voice is as sharp as it had always been, hearing it sending you into a frenzy. you were well and truly speechless, and he knew.

"i'll see you here, bunny."

you were still half asleep but the familiar warmth of alex's voice woke you up and you instantly got on your feet and began running around your room, scrambling around for anything to make yourself look more presentable for alex.

you quickly try fixing the mess that your hair was and apply a quick swipe of the red lipstick of yours that alex adored so much.

you threw on the first things you could find and decided you'd rather walk to his instead of driving, because all the thoughts you were thinking would not lead to a safe drive.

you showed up wearing his band's shirt and a leather jacket with spikes around the neck that almost resembled a collar.

he has to take a second to take all of you in.

he pulls you in by your waist and shuts the door behind you and gives your lips a quick peck.

"i've missed you, doll." he murmurs against your lips, "you always were my favourite from the lot."

he kisses you again, deeper this time, less sweetness and more desperation. teeth clashed, his slight stubble scratching your face, adding to the stimulation and making you hum into the kiss.

alex slips his hands from your waist to your ass, cupping the flesh and massaging it, also pushing your hips into his waist and grinding his cock into you. he pulls away, breathless.

"you know the drill. everythin' off, except that jacket. i expect you on all fours by the time i get to my room."

you open your mouth to retort but decide against it and tiptoe past him and run up to his bedroom. you get undressed and forget to put the jacket back on.

alex, still downstairs, fixed himself a drink and almost finished half of it before he was upstairs. his cock throbbing at the sight.

you were on all fours on his cozy, pristine bed, your back arched so perfectly.

"where's the jacket, doll?"

"'m sorry, al, i forgot."

alex discards his clothes slowly, leaving himself in his boxers. he crawls onto the bed and kneels in between your legs, his hands running up and down your back, pressing it into more of an arch.

"it's alright, angel," he presses a kiss to your soaked pussy from behind, "next time, hm?"

you grind against his face, trying to tell him what you need without irritating him. you hear him swear at himself before his tongue delves into your core, lapping at anything he can get. his fingers come to your front and play with your clit as he devours your dripping cunt. you feel that knot in your stomach threatening to snap as he pulls away, whining at him stopping so suddenly.

"al, please, i'm good, i need you, please—"

you moan excessively loudly when he pushes two fingers into your cunt with no prior warning, feeling your eyes rolling back into your head as his fingers thrust in and out of you, curling and hitting every spot you needed him to get to.

"what did i tell you about doubting me, sweet girl?", he asks sweetly as he spreads his fingers as far apart as he can, watching your hole gape as you scream out his name.

"never doubt you, al, never ever doubting you," you trail off as he continues his relentless movements.

alex suddenly stops all his movements, taking his hands away from you, licking his fingers clean.

"taste as good as you did the first time, doll, fuck, you're takin' me back."

alex's mind flickered back to tour, how despite you both considering your interactions as a rockstar and one of his groupies, there was something different. it wasn't just sex, at least, not to him. he constantly fantasized about taking you out, buying you anything you ever wanted and more, treating you the way you deserved.

but he wasn't sure if he deserved you at all.

he saw himself as a pathetic excuse of a man who thrives on the validation of strangers and crumbles with the slightest criticism, but that also led to him imagining how you'd comfort him in these moments of devastation.

but that wasn't important to him now, he couldn't care less.

"you ready?", he asks, finally freeing his cock, pumping it slightly while watching his pre-cum spill onto your ass and then aligning it with your aching pussy, running his tip through your folds.

"mm, yes, please, fuck—"

alex slides into you before you can finish speaking, your words turning into a choked moan. alex doesn't even hesitate and begins thrusting as fast as he can, jaw hanging open as your cunt squeezes him. his writer's block disappears, everything does. you're all he saw at that point and he didn't mind it at all.

you almost scream his name as he fucks into you with no hesitation, going as fast as he can.

"just as good as i remembered baby, god," alex groans as he runs his hands up your sides, grabbing onto your hair and tugging it so he has your back pressed against his chest. you actually scream this time, the stinging feeling of his cock stretching your cunt and the pure euphoria of the act being almost too much to handle. you throw your head back to rest on his shoulder as he keeps fucking into you, one of his hands slipping to your clit, playing with it as he littered your neck with kisses.

"takin' me like a champ, doll, so so good. perfect lil toy, aren't you? fuckin' soaked too."

his fervent thrusts get slower and sloppier as you squeeze around him. "fuck, al, 'm gonna cum, please," you beg mindlessly as he brings his other hand up to wrap around your throat, squeezing slightly as he nips at a spot under your ear.

"hm, not yet."

you whine in response, your moans getting louder and louder by the second.

"good girl, keep waiting for me, perfect lil slut," alex mutters as he slows down slightly, leaving small kisses of appreciation on your cheek as tears well in your eyes. he notices this and you can feel him twitch inside you as you tighten around him once more, unable to hold back any longer.

you scream out his name as your back arches against his chest, one of your hands flying to grasp at the back of his hair, pulling as you shake and moan until your voice is completely hoarse.

alex stills after you stop shaking and gives you a few seconds to compose yourself.

"you enjoy that? filthy fuckin' whore."

he pulls out of you roughly and flips you onto your back, almost instantly pushing his cock back into your sore cunt.

tears stream down your face as he bottoms out, you're desperate for him to stop and give your ruined pussy a break but at the same time, you can't stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to get him even closer. you dig your nails into alex's back as he pounds into you relentlessly, the sting of your nails scratching along his back making him hiss and go even faster.

alex's hands push your legs even further apart and he lifts them up onto his shoulders, his eyes fixated on the way he could see the outline of his cock filling you up.

"fuck, doll, you're gonna let me fill you up, aren't you? you gonna take it for me, baby?"

alex moves your hair out of your face as you nod pathetically, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he dips his head down to take your nipple into his mouth and slows his thrusts to synchronize with tongue swirling around it, humming softly. he pulls off and latches onto your neck, his teeth clamping down slightly as he picks up his pace again, making you see stars as he fucks his cum as deep into you as possible.

alex collapses onto your chest, breathing heavily. he waits for a while before pulling out and looking at your ruined cunt, smiling as he sees the mixture of your cum and his seeping out of you.

"perfect, bunny, so gorgeous."

two of his fingers circle your aching hole once more and he pushes them into you until they only part of them he can see are his knuckles. he scissors his fingers and spits directly into you, pulling his fingers back out only to scoop up everything and push it back into you, he keeps playing with you like this until he's satisfied enough. he pulls his fingers out and taps on your lips with them and you open your mouth, sucking on them until they're clean.

"good girl, you did so well for me tonight."

he presses a gentle kiss to the space between your tits and moves upwards, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, your jaw, your cheek and finally kissing your lips.

kissing you feels liberating to him, it doesn't feel forced or purely driven by his need to fuck you. but there is something wrong.

"we can't keep doing this."

alex rested his chin on your chest and looked up at you as he spoke.

"we need to do this the right way, doll. i wanna take you out, do all that shit. let me have you, princess, please."

you open your mouth to respond but your voice barely comes out which makes you him laugh as you hide your face in his shoulder. he soothingly rubs your stomach as the laughter dies out and the silence takes over the room, alex doesn't feel awkward the way he normally would and his heart only feels lighter as he sees you nod with that smile he'd grown to adore.

"can't fuckin' wait."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

this one's been in the drafts for ages im ngl

#cookie cooks #alex turner smut #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #youresodarkbabe #sias era smut #smut

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itsphoenix0724 · 11 months ago

Text

Meet Me On The Ice (Azriel x Reader)~ Chapter 3

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.9k

MMOTI masterlist

A/N: It's been a while and I'm sorry but I hope you guys enjoy it <3

Disclaimer: DISCLAIMER: I am not a figure skater or a hockey player, so while I'm trying to be as accurate as possible, it's likely some things may not be correct and/or are bent a little to fit the plot!

“He’s just so infuriating!” You fall back onto the plush couch in the Vanserra pool house, stuffing a mouthful of popcorn. The underused pool house had been You and Lucien’s sanctuary since you were small, his rowdy brothers not really caring to venture here, much preferring the amenities the woodland mansion had to offer.

Well except for one.

Eris Vanserra’s favorite hobby seemed to be annoying you whenever you were over. It seemed like no matter what he found some way to weasel into your business, and now as he settles into the couch between you and Lucien–shoveling a handful of your popcorn into his mouth, it seems he’s wormed his way into your venting session.

“Trouble in paradise?” He raises an auburn brow and you can practically feel Lucien rolling his eyes. You can’t believe you ever thought he was the most tolerable of Lucien’s brothers. “I’ve seen that broody one you’re trying to replace LuLu with, he doesn’t seem like your type.” It’s probably true, most of the Vanserra brood played for the Autumn University Smokehounds except for Lucien, the Velaris Comet’s biggest rivals on and off the ice.

“Like you know anything about my type Eris,” You snarl and he does nothing but laugh, even as Lucien looks like he wants to sink back into the couch cushions.

“Go away Er, find someone else to bother.” Lucien supplies, removing the bowl of popcorn from his brother's lap, passing it back to you, fixing his heated gaze on Eris, and then pointedly looking at the door. Eris gets the hint, seeming amused by the level of aggravation he’s caused for the day and stands to leave.

“Alright, but I’m hurt you didn’t ask me, Little Minx,” Eris’s heated gaze fixed on you as he reaches down and grabs one last piece of popcorn from your lap, crowding your space with eyes locked together with brutal efficiency. “I think we would’ve danced very well together.” He leaves without another word.

“It’s like I’m not safe from assholes anywhere,” You scoff, collapsing back into Lucien’s lap. He looks at you apologetically, running a soothing hand through your hair. You relish in the simple affection of the balm that is Lucien’s presence.

“I’m sorry about him,” He supplies, twisting a lock of hair through your fingers.

“I know how to handle Eris, it’s the other one I’m more nervous about.” Your eyes slip shut, taking calming breaths.

“What about Az gets you so worked up?” He asks readjusting his casted foot to be propped higher on the pillow.

“I don’t even know, my whole life he’s just hated me. I get that I was an annoying little kid who always wanted to hang out with them, but we’re adults now and he should fucking get over it.” You can feel the annoyance start to creep back into your body, your temper already rising at the thought of the practice you have to attend later.

“You’ll survive Dove, don’t let this ruin your last season. At least one of us needs a good one.” You glance up at Lucien who’s glaring at his leg like that could make it magically heal.

“I know I’m sorry. I just wish we could do it together.” You say, and he smiles down at you mournfully, rubbing out the crease between your eyebrows as you try to relax. “I’ll try to keep my head up.”

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Your head slams down hard against the practice floor as you’re dropped for the third time tonight.

“Alright!” Alis yells, her forehead wrinkled with irritation as she stops the music. You glare hard at Azriel whose chest is heaving up and down, an equally intense glare fixed on you. “You two clearly haven’t taken my advice, and it’s showing in your work.” She calls your name and you sit up, rubbing the sore spot from where your head hit the floor. “What did you and Lucien do when you first started skating together?”

“We used to get pizza and go the arcade once a week.” You supply and you and Az share a mutual look of distaste. “But that was when we were eleven and Azriel and I are very much not eleven.” Alis shakes her head again.

“Well, I don’t care. If you want any chance of even stepping on ice this season, you’ll bond. If you can’t get this on the practice floor, I’ll be damned before I let either of you on skates.”

“I don’t have time for that.” Azriel’s voice rumbles through the room, and Alis shoots him an incredulous look.

“Well young man, let me make some time for you now. Practice is dismissed early, and the two of you are going to get pizza and go to the arcade. In fact, I’m giving you homework, you two have to hang out once a week.” Her tone is final despite the mutual protests of you and Azriel. So with the grumbling, you’re reluctantly climbing into the passenger seat of Az’s beat-up jeep as he’s plugging in the directions to the old Funland Arcade. He sets his arm on the back of your headrest as he looks over his shoulder to back out of the parking lot and set out on the road.

It's most likely the most awkward car ride you’ve ever been on.

The radio is playing on low with some old rock band Azriel must be fond of and the monotone voice of his phone’s GPS is the only noise in the car. Even the sound of your breath seems to blare throughout the vehicle's cab. Luckily for you, the drive to the old arcade is short. He parks the car and the two of you make your way inside, when you get in line behind him for game tokens he raises his eyebrows at you pinning you with a silent question in his hazel gaze.

“What? I don’t expect you to pay for me, it’s not like we’re on a date.” You give him a noncommittal nod and he shrugs in response before feeding money into the machine that spits out the tokens. You repeat his actions filling your bucket as you set out upon the battlefield of neon lights and arcade consoles.

It takes all of about 30 seconds for another argument to ensue.

It's stupid really. You want to play the old Dance Dance Revolution machine in the back and Azriel wants to play some zombie shooter with grotesque graphics and obnoxiously loud gun noises.

“Well, then we can just each play our own game and meet up when we’re done.” He huffs and starts to walk over to his choice, but you grab his arm.

“The entire point of being here is so that we spend time together. Alis said we’re supposed to do things together as a team.” You drop his arm, glaring at him as he scoffs and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“She’ll never even find out if we don’t” He tries to walk away again fully turning his back to you but you grab his hood and yank him back again. He lets out a choking sound before whipping around to you absolutely furious. “What the actual fuck was that for?” Azriel questions, yanking his collar back down.

“Listen to me, Azriel. I get that this isn’t important to you but it’s important to me. This is my only chance to skate, so I don’t care what I have to stoop to.” You pinch the crease between your brows and try to offer an olive branch. “So can we at least compromise okay? I’ll play your shooting game first if you play my game after, and then how about we try to pick a game together.” Az finally relents, nodding his agreement. So the two of you walk over to his game, eloquently titled Undead Massacre III, and pick up the red plastic gun assigned to player two.

You were officially complete dog shit.

You had wasted a good chunk of your tokens because you kept dying and Azriel was too far ahead or too focused to revive you, and you could tell that he was annoyed at having to start over. You wanted to quit, not understanding the gun upgrades or reloading mechanism, insisting that you played enough and it was your turn. Az insisted that you had to win at least the easiest round before you could move on. After you died for the fifth time and the game over screen flashes bright and angry as Azriel comes behind you.

“You can’t reload or switch guns fast enough because you’re holding it wrong.” He rumbles the warmth from his chest seeping into your back as he repositions your hands around the plastic. “And you can’t aim because you’re holding the gun too low and it’s not registering with the sensor,” He pulls your arm up so that the gun is now level with your collarbones. “There, see how that feels?” You shudder as his breath hits your neck, rolling your shoulders to fight off the rising goosebumps from his proximity and pray that he can’t see the heat creeping up your cheeks in the dim light. He inserts the tokens for both of you and starts the game again. You actually manage to beat the easiest level and let out a shout that makes a few mothers shoot you angry glares, turning to Azriel eyes blazing with victory. He smiles, actually smiles at you, and you start toward him before awkwardly pausing. If it was Lucien, Rhys, or hell even Cassian you would’ve thrown your arms around them to celebrate. But it was Azriel, so you settle for an awkward smile and offer your hand up for a high-five. He returns it and reluctantly follows you over to DDR, which he does surprisingly well at.

You should’ve known apparently he’s good at everything. You shoot him a questioning gaze and he gives a nonchalant shrug, but there’s amusement in his eyes that makes a laugh bubble out of your chest.

The both of you settle on ski ball and a couple other arcade games that leave you both with a massive pile of tickets that you have to spend at the counter. You end up combing your tickets for the free pizza coupon so you settle into the booths and wait for it to be delivered to your table. This time the silence isn’t terribly awkward, you’re surrounded by kids laughing, terribly censored pop radio, and the smell of mediocre arcade pizza. You flick through social media on your phone and answer a couple texts before the waitress brings you a pitcher of lemonade and a large cheese pizza. You take two slices and Azriel piles 4 onto his plate, raising a brow at you as he shoves his face.

“You don’t have to eat it like it’s about to run away from you.” You giggle out around a sip of your lemonade and Azriel thankfully takes the comment as the joke it is instead of an insult and laughs.

“I’m a growing boy sweetheart, gotta eat.” He shoves almost half a piece of pizza in his mouth and pats his stomach for effect. The blush is back and Az watches it darken your cheeks with amusement dancing in his eyes. Thoroughly stuffed and satisfied you climb back into Azriel’s car as he drives you back to the rink, looking out the window as stars twinkle in the night sky.

“I had fun tonight,” you mutter as he drops you off at your car. “I’ll see you tomorrow for practice.” Azriel nods at you from his rolled-down window and waits until you’re in your car and pulling out of the parking lot before he starts his drive home.

Taglist: @sidthedollface2, @bionic-donut @lyinginameadow @feyretopia @natashachelsea @going-through-shit @mika-no-sekai-blog @hijabi-desi-bookworm @brandywineeeee @littlelunatica @gorlillaglue25

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #Meet Me On The Ice #azriel shadowsinger #acotar au #azriel au #azriel spymaster

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prythiansfavoritefox · 2 months ago

Text

For day 1 of @lucienweekofficial Gentleman

Lucien is tasked with bringing the Archeron family over safely to Feyre’s wedding- and warming them up to the Fae in the process.

It would’ve been a strange day by any other human’s standards, but the Archerons had had stranger. As it was, Nesta Archeron hardly blinked when the faerie lord showed up before their doors.

Lucien Vanserra stared at the woman who had to be Nesta from Feyre’s descriptions of her. He definitely saw the resemblance to Feyre, but Nesta’s features were stronger, sharper. She had siren eyes, her brows were thick and arched, and her full lips were pressed together as they appraised him. Her purple dress was surprisingly elegant, albeit dated: light fabric, a full high-waisted skirt, puffy elbow-length sleeves, and sparkly silver leaf embroidery throughout. It looked like a dress a lesser faerie might wear to sneak into an Autumn Court ball.

“What do you want,” Nesta asked flatly. Lucien flashed a practiced smile, sketching a bow. “Greetings, Lady Nesta. I am Lucien, courtier and emissary of the Spring Court. I come here on behalf of my High Lord, Tamlin Donnachaidh.”

Nesta’s eyes widened in recognition. “Feyre’s High Lord. What does he want with us?”

Lucien swallowed his laugh. “He wants nothing to do with you, but I’m afraid your sister insists.”

Nesta’s face remained unreadable. “And why is that?”

Lucien let his lips pull into a smirk. “She has invited you to her wedding, of course.”

~~~~~~

After the Archerons had sat down in the carriage, Nesta turned to Lucien, who she had sat next to in order to keep an eye on. “What’s with the eyepatch?” she asked. Lucien flashed an arrogant smile that Nesta had quickly realized was his go-to. “Tamlin’s idea. Thought it would make me look less…threatening.”

“You can tell him it’s not working,” Nesta snapped. Her voice shook a little on the last word, and she clenched her fists in her lap. She was trying so hard to be brave for Elain, but she couldn’t deny her fear. Lucien could rip the three of them to shreds in seconds and not break a sweat. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to take a deep breath.

“Hey,” Lucien said, surprisingly gentle this time. “I’m not going to hurt you. Feyre is my friend, and she cares about you.”

“Sure she does,” Nesta choked. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “It’s been months since we heard from her, not a note or fuck you or anything. And now we find out she’s getting married to a High Lord? Will she even be safe there, surrounded by so many enemies?”

Lucien bit his lip, seemingly debating something. “I should probably warn you about something.”

Nesta sniffed. “What?”

Lucien took a deep breath, bracing himself for their reactions. He knew it wouldn’t be good; these people had grown up fearing the Fae, and for good reason. It couldn’t be nice to find out their sister was one of them.

“Your sister…she died freeing us from our High Queen. The only way to save her was for every High Lord to give her a piece of themselves. So, when Feyre’s eyes opened once more, she was reborn as one of the High Fae.”

Elain gasped. Nesta went inhumanly still. Then she took a few deep breaths, as though trying to calm herself. “So she’s one of you now.”

“She’s still the same person, Nesta,” Lucien tried to explain. “Just…stronger.”

“She has become the very thing we fear. She is not the same.” Nesta began moving her thigh up and down. Lucien sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We’re not all so bad, Lady Nesta. Many Fae fought tooth and nail to free you from slavery. Tamlin was too young to do so, but I can assure you that he and I would’ve fought for the humans had we been able to. And with me, Alis, Tamlin, and now your sister, I can assure you that no one will dare lay a finger on you or your family during your stay,” he murmured.

Elain tilted her head, peering at Lucien. “You are not much like Feyre’s High Lord.”

It was amusing to hear the way Feyre’s sisters spoke of Tamlin. Tamlin was one of the most powerful High Lords ever born, but to these ladies, he was just Feyre’s High Lord.

“No, I am not,” Lucien confirmed. Elain smiled slightly. “He was…odd.”

“You can say it, Elain. He was violent and beastly,” Nesta muttered. Lucien snickered. “You’re talking about his little entrance? Tamlin never was good at communication. That’s why I’m here.” Lucien pulled a knife out of his belt and began twirling it in his hands. Nesta continued to stare at him, as though trying to figure out his weakness.

“Are you missing an eye?”

Lucien raised a brow at Nesta’s bold question. “Not exactly,” he replied.

“Take off the mask,” Nesta ordered.

Lucien grinned. He could sense the woman’s fear, but she was not backing down. How brave. Lucien could respect that.

“I’m afraid I only take commands from my High Lord, and he gave me strict instructions to keep it on,” he drawled.

Nesta did not back down, holding his stare. “He said that under the assumption that we would be scared if we saw what was underneath. But I think we’d trust you more if you showed your true face. Right, Elain?”

Elain bowed her head softly. “You shouldn’t have to hide yourself for our convenience,” she said softly. The diplomatic one, then.

“Alright,” Lucien said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Lucien slipped his fingers underneath the eye patch and pulled it off.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #lucienweek2024 #lucienweek24

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lionneee · 6 months ago

Text

Aemond and Alys

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: p in v, an*al, smut, taking of sexual themes, toxic relationship, domestic abuse, dubcon, Alys.•

Modern!Aemond x Modern!Alys

“If you weren’t that much of a freak, I would actually spend some time with you.” Alys shouts at him.

It was rare to see Alys shouting, or angry at all. She was always composed, calm.

Aemond knew she was the perfect woman in appearance. Just in that. In three years of relationship with her, he had been able to be happy only the first month. Maybe.

She approached him first, he was out in a club with his brother, Aegon. He only agreed to come just to make him shut up after his complaints that he never had fun in his life.

Aegon was dancing, trying to approach any kind of human being, as he was sitting at the bar, sipping his water, annoyed. He saw Alys get closer, her makeup perfect, her dark brown eyes fixed on him, her long lashes only intensifying her gaze, her red stained lips curved in a flirtatious smile, as she came closer swaying her hips. She was wearing a dark green dress, with a low cleavage and its skirt long to her knees. Her curves were perfectly accentuated, Aemond was just enchanted. it was obvious she was older, but after a first glance at her, he didn’t care. She was beautiful, perfect. Aemond felt his cock twitch at her sight. He groaned and went back to look at his glass of water, when he felt Alys’s hand on his thigh.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

She had been his first experience with everything. She taught him how to treat a woman in bed, she changed his way of dressing, he told him to grow his hair. She made him a man, that’s what she always said. She basically made him move to her house. She was sweet, caring, and present. He wanted her to meet his parents, he wanted her to be part of his life forever. She always refused to be a bigger part of his life, she said it was too soon. Aemond knew it, he did, but he just loved her. She was his first love, his first kiss. The first person to actually appreciate him despite the ugly scar on his face.

Aemond’s mother's concerns grew with time, and having Aegon helping him out did not reassure her.

Then, he really met Alys.

Alys who goes out even if he doesn’t want to, Alys who disappear for a whole day, Alys that only comes to him for sex.

Alys who manipulated him.

Tonight was just one of the same shitty arguments they kept having. Alys went out, to dance, she said, but Aemond knew. He knew. He didn’t have the proof but he was sure, and he hated it. She hated that she had gone off to someone else when he was waiting for her in her house. He hated her. He was addicted to her, he loved her. He hated her.

He quickly walked to her, as she stepped out of her heels, Grabbing her wrist tightly, and tugging her towards him. He had grown over the years. He was taller than her, when she was not wearing heels. She stumbled and almost fell at his harsh movement.

“What the hell do yo-” She was angry, her face was getting wrinkles around her eyes.

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t you dare speak to me like this.” He growls, his face close to hers. She chuckled. She fucking chuckled at his face. Amused by his anger.

“Oh, you think you are such a big, grown man, don't you?” She laughed. “You are-”

He squeezed her cheek in his hand before she could finish her sentence. Before she could fuck his mind even more. He was tired. He was angry. He felt humiliated.

“Are you stupid or what? Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Whore.” He let go of her wrist and he threw her away by the grip he had on her face. Alys stumbled and looked at him confused. He never spoke to her like that. He never raised a hand on her, not even slightly, if it was not for sex. He never used that tone with her. All Aemond knew was that he was angry. So fucking angry.

“What do you think you are doing?” He warned him, but this time, he was the one to almost laugh. He walked towards her as she kept stepping back, She looked almost… afraid? Aemond didn’t even know she could be afraid of something. She was always sure of everything. He liked this. He liked it a lot. He smirked as he grabbed her by her neck, forcing her to follow his lead, as he brought her into her bedroom.

“You’ve been using me for months now. For years probably. Now I get it. You’re only good to fuck.” He pushed her back as he let go of her neck. She slapped him soon after. It wasn’t the first time Alys hit him. He never reacted to it, usually just stepping back and leaving. This will not be the case.

“You son of a bitch. You should be grateful for what I gave you. You should lick my feet for even having had sex with you, especially because of your ugly fa-” Again, Alys couldn’t finish her phrase. Aemond already had his hand back on her neck as he kept squeezing, tighter and tighter. Alys’s looks at him, her face slowly turning red as she looks at him in disbelief as she keeps clawing at his arm and kicking her legs. He stayed like this just a second more, then he threw her on the bed, as she gasped for air, he took her ankles pulling her back at him and raised her skirt.

“Wha- Aemond!? What do you-” He grabbed her silk chemise and ripped it open, making pop up all the buttons, as he stared at her big breast in her nice lingerie. He puts his hand on her breast, massaging it aggressively.

“Is this what you like, uh? Who’s the fucking freak, whore?” He slapped her breast. He remembered every disgusting thing she liked, every little detail she had told him. He knew he liked this, he knew she liked those disgusting things she was doing to her. He wanted to throw up. She whimpered and she dig her perfectly manicured nails in his arm as he grasped his breast again.

“Aemond, I’m gonna fucking kill you!” She screamed but he just laughed. He laughed at how fake Alys was. Now, with her lipstik ruined and her hair messy, she looked more like… a witch.

“You won’t. You know why?” Aemond unzipped his pants, tugging them down along with his boxers just enough to take out his cock and give it a few pumps. “Because you’re a fucking whore. You’d do anything for a promise of another fuck with me.” He growled as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her even closer, shoving her panties to the side. “Because no one-” He aligned his cock as Alys kept trying to squirm away from him on the bed, but he managed to thrust inside, in one single motion till the end. She moaned, she was wet. She fucking liked this. “-Knows how to treat you-” He started trusting hard and rough, basically using her body as he fucking wanted. He slapped her hips and he harshly pulled her hair, making her lean her head back. “-better than I do, uh?” He slapped her face. “You’re a fucking slut. Nothing more.” She moaned out loud as she clenched her hands on the covers beside her head.

“Fuck- Just- ah - Just like that, baby- Yes!” Aemond sped up his thrusts even more, grabbing her ass and lifting her waist from the bed, as he kept moving her like a sex toy. He didn’t care anymore, he was so tired, so angry and he felt just a stupid for even believing her all this time. He wasted years of his life, when she was just using him, using his feelings for her own pleasure. He gripped her ass tighter and he slapped her repeatedly, until his own head was burning. She just kept moaning, trying to move to meet her his thrusts.

“You’re disgusting. A useless woman, no more than a fucking sex toy.” He felt his feelings for her die, everything just turned into anger. He kept just thrusting harder, faster, chasing his relief. He closed his eye and tried to exclude everything from her. Her sounds, her smell, her voice. He groaned as he kept moving his cock in and out, he looked down at what he was doing to her, but he could still see her face. He pulled out, making her whine for her loss, and he turned her on her stomach. He took his cock in his hand, moving the tip from her entrance to her back.

“What are you waiting for? I thought you said you’re a man.” She mocked him with that spiteful tone of hers.

“You never know when to shut that fucking mouth, do you?” He growled, as he kept looking down at his cock and her ass.

“I’ll make you shut up.” He spat on his cock, and he started to force his cock inside that puckered hole of hers.

“What- Aemond! Wha- AH!” She cried out loud, trying to escape him, grabbing the covers of the bed to crawl away, but he was stronger than her, and he kept her still as he kept forcing his cock in her ass. He almost moaned at how much she was tight. She kept whining and crying out.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.” He growled. He leant forward and pushed her head down as he forced his cock completely inside. He let out a grunt of satisfaction as he leaned back up, as he slowly started thrusting, keeping up the pace just as long as he wouldn’t be able to go faster.

“Aem-Aemond- fuck - careful, it hurts…” She cries out with grunts of struggling. He doesn’t listen, he doesn’t want to hear her again, he wants to fucking destroy her. He starts speeding up, feeling his orgasm close, and he just let himself go, fucking her uncontrollably, like a hungry beast, as she keep whining louder. Then he finally cummed. He groaned out loud and filled her ass with his seed. She didn’t cum but he didn’t care. Not this time. He just wanted to get out of there and forget all about her. He takes a deep breath and pulls out, going into the bathroom to wash himself. When he went back outside to her bedroom, she was still laying there.

“I’ve packed. We’re done.”

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coal15 · 2 months ago

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A few days ago I put up a poll (link HERE) because I had way too many ideas for fix-it fics after Buck and Tommy broke up, I decided to let everyone else choose which sort I should start with. The brain clutter was gumming up my creative process too much to focus. Well, since then an idea came through so vividly I just had to start writing it. I am keeping the poll up though, because I've got so many ideas that if the style of fic I'm already writing wins I'll just start on another one in the same vein, then tackle the second most popular one next. The one I've already started on is rated GA, romantic, angst, some laughs, and it will probably end up being about 3 not very long chapters. Below is an excerpt from Ch.1 of Door to Door

A little while later they were sitting on Eddie’s couch nursing beers in silence. Under normal circumstances Buck would ask Eddie why he was walking around the house in underwear and a long sleeve button-up shirt, but the song ‘Old Time Rock ‘n Roll’ blaring at top volume pretty much answered his question. What guy HASN’T acted out that scene from Risky Business at some point?

“It’s something new, I know that much.” Eddie said out of nowhere.

Buck frowned. “Huh?”

“The vibe you’re putting out, man. I’ve seen you depressed a lotta different ways for a lotta different reasons, but this one is new. So. You ready to talk about it or should we just keep drinking for a while? There is no wrong answer.”

“He dumped me.” Buck felt his chin beginning to wobble as he spoke. “He actually–and it was, I, I, think, I don’t know, I asked him to move in with me and suddenly his whole mood changed. Outta nowhere. He said he was only my first boyfriend, not my last.” His eyes burned and he started to lose control of his voice, every word less and less steady. “He just took it for granted that I’d fall out of love just because there’s other hot guys in the world I haven’t dated–but I don’t want to! Eddie, I was so ready to just be with him and I don’t understand why–” by that point he couldn’t have choked out a decipherable word to save his life. He doubled over on the couch, and Eddie took the beer bottle from his hands so he could bury his face and sob.

From what Eddie could glean of the Abby situation Buck got over her gradually, only half realizing it, and the only thing left to do was process what grief remained after the denial finally fell away. He and Ali weren’t together for long enough to merit more than some light moping. The breakup with Taylor hadn’t been easy, but at least then he had the comfort of choosing to end it, and the confidence of knowing he made the right choice. He loved Taylor enough to grieve the end of their relationship, but it didn’t destroy him. As far as Natalia, what was there to say? He latched onto someone, hypnotized by the desire to find a soulmate, and ended it as soon as he realized his mistake. This wasn’t like any of the other breakups. This was new. He patted his best friend’s back, squeezed his shoulders, and waited for the crying to subside enough to ask questions without making it worse.

It took several minutes.

“I guess the first thing is, do you think he was right?” Eddie asked gently when the timing was appropriate. “I mean, I know breakups suck and you’re hurting, but . . . well, think about it. Carefully. You settle down with Tommy and he’s the only man you’re ever gonna be with. Forever.” He paused to make sure Buck was looking right at him. Eye to eye. “Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes!” Buck croaked, wiping his eyes and nose on the back of his sleeve. That is so gross, said a tiny sliver of his brain. Oh shut up dickhead, nobody cares what you think, said the rest of his brain.

“Okay,” Eddie nodded. “And did you tell him that? Like, did you make it abundantly clear you are a thousand percent ready to give up casual dating?”

Buck’s eyes and nose required sporadic dabbing as he considered the question. “I, I think I did.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “Thaaaaaat didn’t sound too confident.”

“I told him my first and my last could be the same thing.”

“Could be? The first word you ever spoke could be the same as your last word, but it’s not likely. Plus either way there’s a whole lotta yapping in between.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?”

“Future Buck.” Eddie plucked their beers off the coffee table and clinked them together. “I’m on Future Buck’s side.”

“Hmph. I hope his life doesn’t suck.”

“Um . . . I hate to break it to you buddy, but he’s kinda depending on you right now.”

**********Click HERE for the rest

#Bucktommy #Tevan #Evan Buckley #Tommy Kinard #911 abc #fix it fic

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witchofhimring · 1 year ago

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Loyalty Chapter 10

Synopsis: Ellyn Baratheon is dead and Prince Aemond is plunged into grief. With a newborn son your life forever changes and destiny sets you on a darker path.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen x Reader

Jason Lannister x Reader (minor)

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, moontea/abortions, suicide, mentions of rape (not to the reader), Plot twist at the end!

This chapter has mentions of rape and abortions (not inflicted on the reader), so be warned!

A great moan emanated from the forest. Great gusts of wind seemed to hail the birth of your son. Having enough, Lady Mari stormed over to the window and slammed it shut. The infants cries became even louder. Greedily you took in his appearance. He was your son through and through. Your hair, your eyes. In fact you hardly saw anything of Jason Lannister in him. Holding him close your fingers brushed the thin fuzz of hair upon his head. His tiny feet kicked out. "He is strong." You croaked out. With an aching throat you laughed. It was all over. All those months of fear and finally he was born. A son to succeed his father. But more importantly your child was safe. "What will you call him?" Alys Rivers asked. You wanted to name his one of your choosing. Normally it was up to the father. But Jason Lannister was dead and that right fell to him. And by the Gods it was your right. It was you who had borne him. "Owen Lannister." The name had suddenly come to you. Why you were not sure. But perhaps being a parent yourself brought on a burst of feeling towards your own. "Owen Lannister. A good name." Alys Rivers agreed.

The baby would lay with you. Overruling everyone else, you would have your son next to you. He had stopped crying after being fed. Jealously you watched the wet-nurse coo as she fed your son. "Don't you worry My Lady. This boy will grow strong and healthy. We have never failed a babe yet." The pain, in retrospect, had not been as bad as feared. There was still pain but it was all worth it. You watched your son be fed by the fire. Sleepily your eyes closed.

You sleep was not long. A conversation woke you and Lady Dara stood over you. She was breathless and had clearly ran all the way here. "Princess Ellyn has passed." The midwife clutched the babe to her breast and muttered a prayer. There was no such emotion on you face, there would be no show of grief. The woman who had tormented you for the past year was dead, another ghost for Harrenhal. No prayer was uttered from your lips, just as you had not lit a candle for Vaeron and Lucerys. "I see. Give Prince Aemond my condolences." Then you laid down and went to sleep. The covers were drawn up to cover your face. Smiling, you exhaled a great breath and made sure the midwife could not see the jubilation on your face. You did not care if it made you wicked. Ellyn had been a terror to you and been the architect of your misery. You still remembered the day she had made you undress her. All the public humiliations you endured at her hand. Once she had mocked your misery and talked of all the children she would bear Prince Aemond. All that had turned to ashes in her mouth and here you lay with a healthy baby boy while she lay dying. Ellyn had not known the delight of becoming a mother. Nor had she. That was something Ellyn did not have that as of now was out of reach.

To your great surprise Prince Aemond paid you a visit. He was haggard looking. Had Prince Aemond loved Ellyn, as he had never loved you? You did not entertain any notion that he had visited you out of caring. "He looks healthy." Prince Aemond's voice was strained. "He is. And I would have borne you a healthy son." But none of this you said aloud. The thought shamed you. The year had turned you into a bitter woman who thought more of scores than one of compassion. Prince Aemond seemed unsure of what to do. You noticed he bore new scars, one lining his left cheek. Where the rumors true? Had Prince Aemond truly set the Riverlands ablaze? Rumors were bound to arise is such times. Such as the one about King Aegon having his illegitimate children fighting in pits. You were not even sure Kings Landing had fighting pits. "I hope he is." The baby opened his eyes and opened his mouth in a big yawn. Such a little thing should be minuscule, but for you it was a fascination to behold. This beautiful baby boy was the most precious thing to ever exist. At least to you he was, but the same could be said of every mother.

"Where will I be going after this?" With Kings Landing in enemy hands your future there was no clear path. No. It was not just your. Everyone's future was uncertain, and no one was likely to have a happy one. A new fear dwelt within you. Your own mortality had always been a factor you considered. While your possible death had always been a terrifying prospect it was nothing compared to the fear for Owen. If your son died how would you ever survive? This boy....this tiny human not yet a whole week old had your allegiance. From now on you would work for his welfare.

Prince Aemond was still there. Right now you wanted to be left alone with Owen. "I would like to spend time with my son, My Prince." "I-" Prince Aemond cut himself off, and nodded. There was a tenseness in his jaw you could not quite understand. "I will leave you to it." With another nod of his head Prince Aemond was gone. With a weary sigh you rested the baby against your chest. The white blanket had been crafter by Lady Mari. She had sewn lions onto the rim. You appreciated her craft and desired to thank Lady Mari. Maybe later, when you were not so tired. In the mean time you would wander the realm of sleep, where pools of blood and Weirwood trees awaited.

These dreams no longer frightened you like they once did. But you would never get used to the voices that wailed in your ears. And unlike normal dreams you remembered every moment of it. The dawn did not make them fade away into nothing. At first you had not wanted to believe it. Bad dreams like these brought only bad things. It felt like if you were to admit that then those things would happen. To much of this felt so real, waking up to stinging skin. Hearing voices in the trees. Either you were going bad or something otherworldly was happening. Neither was appealing. But what could you do? They would either call you made or take you for a witch. If things stayed as they were, only dreams and whispers, you might be alright. But curiosity was a powerful thing. As was fear. If some malevolent spirit was after you then why? A curse of some sort? But who would do such a thing? Ellyn might have, had she possessed such power. Though she may not be the only contender. There were stories of Gods who punished arrogant mortals. In their anger the Gods may have sought to punish you. The thought only angered you. What had they done to inspire devotion within you? They, immortal beings, dwelt high above while humanity suffered. Bitter, you cursed them in your heart.

You had perused most of Harrenhal's books by this point. Despite the size of the library only a few were actually fit for reading. They were either damaged due to age or poor keep and the rest were written in languages you were not privy to. A few weeks after your childbirth you were once more free to look amongst the shelves. Beforehand the task had fallen to Alys Rivers. After being kept in your room for so long going out was a joy. It was only too bad the grounds were closed off. It had been months since you had been able to be beyond the castle walls.

Baby Owen rested on your lap as the last birds took flight. Your sons birth had been sent out and Casterly Rock had replied. They would send a retinue to take your son to his rightful place. The only thing that worried you was that there was only mention of his departure, not yours. Perhaps it was only a slip up. You had sent word to Lady Joan about the next course of action. Her reply was not what you hoped. Only that her grandchild was doing well and that finally your deceased husbands brother had a son. Apparently Lady Joan wished to betroth her granddaughter to the newborn Lannister babe. "We must grow strong." Was what she wrote. Though your anxiety was great, so long as Prince Aemond lived you would be safe.

"Which book today?" Alys Rivers took a seat beside you. Being tired of your room, you took a small circular room in the tower that had been utterly abandoned. Pillows had been propped up on the window stood. The view was spectacular, you could see the run rise far in the distance. This tallest part of Harrenhal allowed you to see far and wide. Only on Vaehgar had you such a view. Owen slept in his cradle at your feet. His hair had darkened slightly and as each day went by they said "oh, he looks just like his sire!" you could have scoffed. Owen Lannister was clearly all you. Though you never said any of these words out loud.

Alys Rivers walked over to the babe and crouched down. One long finger pressed against his wrist. "He is a beautiful babe." You smiled. Of course he was. Alys Rivers looked at you, then back at the babe, then to you once more. "They told me he looks like Ser Jason Lannister. Although I think he takes after you." The comment brought a mixture of pride, surprise and affection for Alys. It could have risen out of pure loneliness, but it felt nice to have Alys around.

For a moment you watched Alys coo over the baby. Owen opened his eyes and gazed up at the woman above him. Suddenly a tiny hand came out and seized one of her black locks. "Oh, oh my goodness! I am sorry!" Alys laughed as you rushed forward to pry the babies hand away. Because Owen was so little his strength was next to nothing. "Babies will do that. Once this little boy was in my charge, Henry was his name, and by the time he was done with me it was a miracle I had any hair left!" Your own hair was lose and it occurred to you that such as style may be unsuitable in the future. There was a sad look of Alys's face. Once more you wondered about the possible children she lost. Then you considered "what if the children lost were not solely hers?". If Alys had been the castle wet nurse then some of the children would have not been hers by blood. They said Prince Aemond slaughtered every person that bore the name Strong. Had one of those killed at one point been cared for by Alys? Such a thought was unpleasant and you put it away. There was no proof of that, no need to cause yourself unnecessary grief.

Alys finally looked at the book you were reading. It was titled "Gods of Westeros", a book that was controversial in the eyes of the sept. Even you, whos faith wavered, felt slightly uneasy dabbling in what one could call borderline heresy. Alys stood and and sat next to you. "Which Gods?" "The Seven, of course, the Old Gods kept by the First Men, Mother Rhoyne, The Drowned God, R'hllor God of Light. That is all I have come across." You turned the page. "The Great Other" was the next chapter. Familiar drawings of White Walkers crept out at you. "Have you hears of The Great Other?" You shook your head. Alys turned the page. "The God of R'hllor, worshiped by the Red Priestesses. They say the night is dark and full of terrors. The God R'hllor will burn away the darkness. The Greater Other, is his opposite, a God of cold and darkness." "Who worships these Gods?" "Few in Westeros, mostly in Essos." "What of The Great Other?" Alys shuddered. "Only The Others would serve such a God." You wanted to ask which Gods Alys served. The question seemed rude and invasive so you abstained. The idea of Alys being a heathen unsettled you. Though were you in a position to judge?

That night dead corpses haunted your dreams. And a rustling that sounded like the wings of death came ever closer.

You watched them lay Ellyn into the ground. With Storms End blocked off escorting the princesses corpse there was not an option. So she would have to make due with Harrenhal. A kinder woman might have felt sad. As Ellyn was lowered into the ground and the septon spoke all you could think of were her taunts and jeers. You wondered if she knew you gave birth to a boy. A dark part of you fancied that it was despair over your sons birth that carried Ellyn off, spitting bile as bitter as her words. Your eyes went to Prince Aemond, standing over where his wife lay. There was a coldness to him. A rage in his eyes. Beside him stood Lady Maris Baratheon, clad in black and standing suspiciously near Prince Aemond. One of her hands rested on his arm. It would not surprise anyone is Prince Aemond married another of house Baratheon to keep their allegiance. Would it be Lady Maris with a sharp wit or her sisters? They said that Lady Floris Baratheon was very beautiful, having only just celebrated her nineteenth name day. Lady Cassandra was said to be shy, but beautiful as well. What had attracted Prince Aemond to Ellyn? None had made mention of her beauty and you only knew of Ellyn's spite. Perhaps she could be charming, just not to you.

When Owen started to fuss it gave you an excuse to leave. A nursemaid and Alys followed you inside. The nursemaid fed Owen and you dismissed her. It felt good to walk about the castle again. "What happened in this room?" It was on one of the upper levels. Do not ask which one, counting them was hard. This one was larger than the rest and must have been used to house someone important. "Ser Lyonel and Harwin's." A sudden chill ran through you. Lord Lyonel and his won had been burned alive in these rooms. Whether by vengeful ghosts or an enemy you could not say. "Well, let us get going." As if there was a hurry to go anywhere. The next room you ventured into had once been used as a sort of office. Prince Aemond had briefly used it but feeling uneasy in those rooms chose different ones. There was still a desk and chair, forlornly forgotten in this wing of the castle. Banners hung on the walls. "Where these houses that ruled Harrenhal?" "Yes." Now that was not necessarily true. House Hoare who ruled before Aegon's Conquest was unceremoniously left out. House Qoherys, with its x and four skulls. a bad omen of things to come as that house met a bad end. The Harroway family met an even more horrid end. Maegor the Cruel had slaughtered all who bore the name Harroway when his wife Queen Alys bore a malformed creature. The black tower in flames, an imposing sigil for any house. The next house also had towers, though less impressive. The Towers did not last long, even less when you consider the fact that Rhaena Targaryen took over its keep for a time. Poor Princess Rhaena, who might have been Queen ended her days in these halls. As sad fate for anyone, especially for one who was called Queen of the West. Lastly were the Strongs with their symbol of the Tridents three forks. How long Housed Strong would last was anyone's guess. Larys Strong had no heirs, and he was the last of them. Unless one were to count Jeoffrey Velayron who was truly Harwin's son. But his parentage could never be acknowledged, he was a bastard anyway.

" I remember Ser Lyonel working in this room. My job, when I was not doing my duty to the children was to serve the Lord." "Were there very many children in Harrenhal?" Somehow the idea of children in Harrenhal seemed preposterous. Baby Owen fussed. Harrenhal wiped out those who lived there, their lines obliterated. "We do not rule Harrenhal." You told yourself. "More than you would think. There were never many noble children racing around. But there were plenty of servants with children. Every morning I would wake up and run to this room and that. I remember most of the children. Sweet things they were. I remember a little girl called Dania, tiny little girl, with a beautiful smile and blue eyes. Though not all of them were small. Harwin Strong-" Both of you did a double take. Had you misheard? "A different one." Alys quickly said. You laughed to dispel the tension but it did not wholly go away. The room was quickly abandoned.

Whispers were coming from the Red Keep that Rhaenyra's base was quacking. Kings Landing was starving and the Black Queen, as they had taken to calling her, had holed herself up. There were even rumors of a falling out with her husband. How much of this was true or not was unclear. But Otto Hightower always said the man was perverse. There was hope Kings Landing would fall soon. For months Rhaenyra had held out but the situation was not looking good. Jaecerion had been ruling Casterly Rock in the absence of your son. It eased your mind, as some might want to displace Owen. The betrothal of Lady Jenna Florent to your newborn nephew named Lord Jason after his uncle went ahead. They were young but when they turned fourteen the couple would marry and live as husband and wife. At first it was alarming when betrothal letter came in for your son. Lord Hobert had even offered the hand of his granddaughter. Quite a splendid match, Lannister and Hightower. It might have even been the one you chose. Only two days previously a letter smuggled in was sent and penned on the request of King Aegon offering the hand of his daughter Princess Jaehaera The thought thrilled you, a Targaryen Princess for your son! "What do you say to that my love?" Your son snoozed away, completely unaware of the magnificent future his mother had planned. When you went to bed that night there were dragons, crowns, and children with silver hair.

"Another flight?" Lady Dara and yourself watched Vhaegar land. Prince Aemond had returned from this newest expedition. Everyone wore grim expressions. A smoky substance emanated from the old dragons mouth, a telltale sign that Vhaegar had been setting something on fire. But what had she been burning? Whispers spoke of families up in smoke. Lives snuffed out before they had truly begun. Prince Aemond himself was not unhurt either. He bore wounds, though none too serious. The days were Prince Aemond would come to you to patch up his cuts and bruises were long gone. These days he would have a maester to wait upon him. "It is getting cold, come." Lady Dara followed you inside. You made sure Owen was sound asleep, which he still way. He was looking cuter by the day, more plum with such pretty eyes. The warmth against your chest brought on a fierce maternal love for this baby.

Just ahead of you strode Lady Maris with her own ladies. Realizing both of you were about to cross paths you politely nodded. She returned the gesture but there was something calculated in her look. You would have expected anger, after all, she was Ellyn's sister. But surprisingly there was none of that. Her ladies had been discrete. Whether that boded good or ill you did not know. When you got back to the bedroom a wet nurse quickly took Owen off your hands to feed him. Lady Mari was sewing by the fire and once more Lady Clarisssa was absent. "Where is Lady Clarissa?" It was not that you had a great need for her at the moment. Her frequent disappearances had made you feel uneasy. Lady Dara and Lady Mari shared looks. Whatever had fallen upon Lady Clarissa they did not want to divulge. Quickly you dismissed the nursemaid, taking back you son. Owen, often sleepy after feeding was quick to leave the waking world.

"What has happened to Lady Clarissa?" It was your duty as their mistress to be informed of ladies wellbeing's. Lady Dara's hands clasped together, locking like iron. A look of apprehension crossed Lady Mari's face. They looked to one another until it became to much for Lady Mari. "We were on your way to Harrenhal when brigands attacked out carriage. And they stopped us and eventually knights came. But by then..." The words were too horrible to speak and she did not need to. A hand to your mouth, the information settled into horror. Poor Lady Clarissa. And you had no idea. "Is....is there anything I can do to help?" It felt silly to ask. What could you possibly do to comfort a woman who had undergone such an ordeal? When Lady Mari took a deep breath you heart dropped. There was more to come. "Lady Clarissa is with child, we think." You gasped. It was one thing to be raped. To be pregnant made it so much worse. While a woman might conceal the fact she lay with a man outside the confines of marriage, to be pregnant changed things. No one would care that it was rape and not of Lady Clarissa's will. They would judge her just the same. "How far along?" "About three months." Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes. "Someone will need to retrieve moontea from the maester." Lady Dara suddenly shook her head. "He will know. And if he does then it is more likely Lady Clarissa will be shamed." You had to think. So long as this whole issue could be kept private then Lady Clarissa could still be saved. As you were not the lady of this castle the maester was not required to obey. That fell to Prince Aemond. "I will go ask the Prince." "Don't!" The pitch of Lady Maris voice made you and Lady Dara jump. "The prince may not help, if he thinks the act is of her own volition." But there was no other choice. It was that or Lady Clarissa's downfall.

"You are quite sure this was rape?" You scowled at Prince Aemond. "Lady Clarissa is a woman of good character. I do not see why she would sully her name is such a way." You were so worried he would say no. Then, if that were the case, Lady Clarissa's situation would be worse. Perhaps Prince Aemond would kick her out. That would absolutely not happen, Lady Clarissa would not be another Elinor. Prince Aemond got up to his feet. You noticed his left hand was bandaged. When he set it down Prince Aemond hissed in pain. "Have you seen a maester for that?" You inquired. "Yes. Now let us go so the maester. And send a servant to fetch Lady Clarissa.

The maester's rooms were in another tower, inconveniently. Maester Whells was younger than most maesters with thinning brown hair. "So you say the lady is around three months?" "Yes. About that time." You replied. The maester pulled out a role of parchment and wrote something down. The door opened and a pale faced Lady Clarissa stumbled in. "Clarissa, it is quite alright. We will help you." You gently took Lady Clarissa by her elbows and she was steered to the nearest chair. The maester scrutinized Lady Clarissa with steely eyes. "You say this was the result of an attack?" There was a not of incredulity in his voice. "You speak as if this is an anomaly. Tell me Maester Whells, tell us how we women can avoid rape during war, for we would all like to hear it." Under the harshness of his gaze the maester had the good grace to look embarrassed. Lady Clarissa's hand trembled in yours. "I..well..I will need to examine that Lady. Prince Aemond and Lady Y/n, if you could leave the room." Lady Clarissa vigorously shook her head. "My Lady it is highly irregular for-" But you interrupted him. "I will stay." Prince Aemond was quick to leave. Lady Clarissa was undressed and made to wear a thin gown. She lay there on the bed, spread legged and frightened. When Maester Whells pulled out a familiar looking device you said "why is that being brought out?!" "I must check to see how far along she is." As Maester Whells inserted it into Lady Clarissa she cried out and squeezed your hand. Those ten seconds seemed to last forever until Lady Clarissa was finally allowed to sit up. Lastly, she peed in a bowl and was told to redress. By the end she was no longer shaking but look so tired. You sent her to bed and ordered food to be brought. The atmosphere you returned to was tense. Although the wet nurses had no idea they felt the anxiety. Lady Dara, Lady Mari and yourself were quiet all evening. Only Owen made any noise. Dinner was little better. Prince Aemond sat at the head overlooking a small court. The ladies of Lady Maris's retinue, and those who once belonged to Ellyn, quietly stole looks. They would look your way, and then pretend not to. You prayed none of them found out.

It was a blessed relief to dive under the covers. Lady Dara would be your companion tonight. Sleep came in its usual form, with bloody dreams and voices. You were pulled here and there, with no will of your own. The howling grew greater and soon it overwhelmed you. It plunged you into a pool of blood, unable to get out. But somehow in the midst of all that blood there were little butterfly wings.

Two days later the matter of Lady Clarissa's pregnancy had to be addressed. A closely guarded secret, Maester Whells, Prince Aemond, Lady Clarissa and yourself were the only ones privy to this meeting. "At three months this is the latest I would encourage one to rid themselves of the baby. But it should be quick and not too painful in this case My Lady." "Lady Clarissa?" Lady Clarissa was sitting next to you, still as a statue. Even after two days of rest she still looked haggard. "I need...I need time." Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "My Lady, I am afraid time is something we have little of. How I administer the moon tea depends on how far along the babe is. Frankly, I am not comfortable inducing a labor past the fourth month." Lady Clarissa looked like to faint. You placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her from swaying. "Think about it. We will continue this in the morning." Maester Whells looked ready to protest. "Please, she needs it." You were worried because Lady Clarissa was sporting a green hue. The pallor one took before throwing up. Helping her from the chair, you lead Lady Clarissa outside. Prince Aemond and Maester Whells followed, speaking all the time. As the group left you though there was the patter of fear. Shaking your head, you convinced yourself it was an affliction of the imagination.

That assumption was a grave mistake on your part. Whispers were racing around the hall, ones that made your heart stop cold. It was on the way down to breaking your fast that the whole day would be spoiled. Only spoiled was not strong enough for the absolute heartbreak that would render itself upon Harrenhal. Two women were gossiping on the staircase. Paying no mind you continued down until a name cropped up. "Lady Clarissa-well she is no true lady from what I hear-" It was then that both women realized who was next to them. "What did you say? Speak up!" They flinched but you did not care. You went right up to one of them, a tall black haired woman. "What is your name?" She did not want to tell, but could not dismiss a direct order from you. "Lady Ellois Dondarrion." "Lady Dondarrion. And why is Lady Dondarrion gossiping about Lady Clarissa?" Lady Dondarrion was biting her lip. "They are all talking about it, not just me. Lady Clarissa is with child." Internally you cursed. Who had told?! "Where did you hear this information?" "It was not me who overheard. I am not sure who, only that Lady Swann told me this morning." "Which Lady Swann?" "Lady Bella Swann, My Lady." You were livid. The impulse to throw Lady Dondarrion and her companion down the stairs was strong. Instead of that, you departed, leaving both women frozen. You did not know who Lady Bella Swann was but she would feel your wrath.

After breaking your fast Lady Swann was summoned. You chose the nearest drawing-room as an audience space. Sitting in a chair and flanked by ladies you hoped to intimidate this Lady Bella Swann. The woman entered, only one could say she was more a child than woman. A tiny thing, she did not even look fully developed. "How old are you, Lady Swann?" She flushed and bobbed a quick curtsy. "Ten and three, My Lady." Suddenly the idea of intimidating this lady made you uncomfortable. "Take a seat. Lady Dara could you?" Nervously Lady Swann sat down. "I hear that a rumor has been going around about one of my ladies. Lady Ellois Dondarrion says that it was you who told her." Lady Swann looked ready to cry. "Who do you serve?" "I grew up serving Lady Joan Tyrell, I served the Princess Ellyn, now I serve Lady Maris Baratheon." You leaned back in the chair. Was this a plot by Lady Maris to unseat you? For a lady's women were extensions of herself and could be judged for their misdemeanors. "Where did you overhear this information?" "I overheard the Prince and Maester Whells, My Lady." So it was her who started this whole affair. Suddenly any sympathy you held for Lady Dondarrion evaporated. "Do you realize what you have done? A lady's reputation is torn because of you." Tears welled up in Lady Dondarrion's brown eyes. "Plesase....I'm sorry I did not mean to..." You did not care to read the rest. This little idiot might be young, but younger girls had more sense. The idea that this may not be a simple slip but a plot did occur. If Lady Maris wished to settle a score then getting rid of Clarissa was a good way to do it. Rising to your feet, all the ladies curtsied. "Lady Dondarrion, this information will be brought to the Prince. Pray he takes it to mind to be merciful. The woman stumbled out. "My Lady, it may not-" Lady Mari put up a hand. "I will not spare sympathy for those who set out to ruin the lives of others."

"Everyone knows." You sat opposite from Alys who was rocking you son. Owen had fallen asleep, the fire glinting on his hair. Today Alys bore ill new. It was none too surprising but dreadful nevertheless that Clarissa's condition had spread. Clarissa had refused to leave her room by now. You spent time trying to coax her out. Eventually you sent in a septa who might ease her pain. It being late, you headed to your room and spent the evening with Alys. A howling wind was raging inside, the shutters shuddered in its place. You would look at Owen, worried that he may be disturbed. But for today you were safely tucked away.

"Could I get you something to read?" Alys put Owen back into the crib. "No. Let us just sit." Worried over Clarissa and the war, you could not bully your brain into concentration. The maid opened the door carrying a steaming bowl of meat and bread. "Ah, dinner. Put it over there I will be out in a moment." You waiting until the maid was gone. The floor was cold and you considered requesting a carpet. You and Alys took places by the fire. Extra food had been supplied for Alys. By now most knew she spent the evenings with you. It was strange, but her presence made you feel less lonely. The past year had been so isolating that companionship was desperately craved. Even from someone like Alys, a commoner and bastard. Yet even so, if the past year had not happened you might still have sought out her company. She was the most engaging person you had ever met. "Poor Clarissa." You forlornly closed bleary eyes. "A sad thing. Unfortunately too common. Even before the war, so many women would arrive pregnant or child in arms. And yet everyone acts scandalized despite the frequency." "But Clarissa's prospects are ruined. There is no way she can just have this child and move on? Clarissa's family will likely abandon her." "They won't help her? But they are a great family. Surely they could lend a hand." "Unfortunately, Alys, being a great family means they are that more ruthless. Even to their own kin." Alys pondered your words and gazed into the fire.

"It is a strange thought." Alys's eyes looked bright in the light, her paleness illuminated. Like two great emeralds placed against a smooth opal. "Men can father a hundred bastards and none blink an eye. But a girl gets pregnant through...well you know, and is suddenly a pariah. You know I have always felt sorry for Rhaenyra." Shocked, any sleepiness was banished. "Rhaenyra Targaryen? What, the Black Queen?!" The last part you spat out. "But have you never thought about it?" Alys was still not looking at you, her eyes still on the fire. Perhaps her thoughts were a thousand miles from here, so engrossed that she was not aware of the surroundings. "Thought about what?" You looked towards the door. This was not a conversation you wanted anyone to overhear. After what happened with Clarissa one could never be too careful. Getting up, you wanted to the door and opened it. The hallway was empty. "Does the King not have bastards?" Alys said as you sat down. What she said was true. Everyone knew King Aegon had silver-haired bastards all over Kings Landing. "The King has numerous bastards while Rhaenyra has only three. And at least she cares for hers. Is it not odd that women are punished for what men take as their due."

You had never thought about it like that. The situations were familiar in a sense. "Rhaenyra chose to sleep outside the confines of marriage. Cassandra was raped." Alys made a nod of acknowledgment. "But if she were not? Would she deserve to be harassed and abandoned by her families." You could not bring yourself to say yes. It was the way of the world. If one had asked you if a woman should be shunned for such foolish actions a year ago you might have said yes. But now the notion felt....icky. It was true that while men such as King Aegon and Jason Lannister fathered scores of bastards a woman could be ruined by just one. You thoughts went to Lady Redwyne. Was she shunned by her family to? You had never thought to ask. Did they whisper about her in the halls as they did Clarissa? While you had never been pregnant through an affair there were those who scorned you. Thinking you were Prince Aemond's mistress some had shunned you. Although your name had been cleared and most scored Ellyn for the rumors you would never forget. Your friends from Kings Landing had hardly sent any letters at all.

"That is true, and I suppose it is unfair. But she is trying to pass off a baby that is not her husbands. And the next heir must be legitimate." "I suppose your point has merit. This society is based upon legitimacy." Alys looked like she wanted to say more but judged it unwise. Owen saved you from the awkward tension by getting fussy. His wails increased in pitch and you quickly scooped him up. "Shall I get the wet nurse?" You shook your head. "Just give me time alone with him." Long after Alys left, her words remained.

"Has she eaten today?" Lady Mari and yourself stood outside Clarissa's door. Clarissa lay on her bed, pale and death with tangled blonde locks. Two weeks and her behavior had hardly changed. Maester Whells was becoming impatient and wanted her to decide. "She may lose the baby and be spared making a decision." Lady Mari's knuckles were red with rubbing. She had been up all night on vigil for Clarissa. "And has she eaten?" "A little bread. But I doubt it shall account for much." Both of you looked in on the sleeping woman. "Let us get her something appetizing and send for a maester. And you looked tire Lady Mari. Rest for a bit." Lady Mari nodded and went in the direction of her room. You on the other hand went to find a maid. Afterwards you went to the maester and told him to check on Clarissa.

A sudden wave of exhaustion came over you. Clarissa's state made been an all consuming worry. It did not help that Harrenhal's very being put the bravest of souls on edge. You pushed the door open to find an apprehensive wet-nurse and Prince Aemond holding your son. You froze feeling a mixture of alarm and fear. Why Prince Aemond holding your son brought about fear you did not know. Just that the sight of your son in his arms disconcerting. Prince Aemond seemed to sense your feeling for he immediately dispensed Owen into your arms. "Hello lovely." You smiled down at Owen. His little eyes opened and registered you. A happy coo left his mouth and you trace Owen's brow. He had grown strong in a past month. The wet-nurse said he fed well and would grow into a fine strong man. "He looks like you." Prince Aemond commented. You would have thought it mere flatter if not for the fact it was very true. There was hardly any Jason Lannister in his son's face. "I know." You cradled the baby close. "You named him after your father. I remember as children you promised to name a boy after him." A long time ago, practically centuries ago (at least for you) you and Prince Aemond had talked about children. In those dreams you imagined the children with platinum hair. But such fantasies were of no use now. "Leave us." Prince Aemond ordered the wet-nurse. It was not just Prince Aemond, the baby, and you.

"Y/n. Daemon Targaryen will be upon Harrenhal soon." "So I suppose it will be time to leave soon." "Yes." "To Casterly Rock?" Prince Aemond shook his head. "No. Highgarden." You had not seen Highgarden in years. The memories were blurry and so far away. You remembered certain smells, noises and how it felt to wander through those great gardens. "Why not Casterly Rock?" "It is not safe there Y/n. The Ironborn will likely attack again and brigands travel the roads. Rhaenyra is still calling for your head and Casterly Rock is in little position to defend dragons due to the conflict." "I thought the Tyrells were neutral in this war." "Yes, well, you will be smuggled in and hidden." The baby snorted through his little nose. A Lannister in Highgarden. The Kings of the Reach and Lannisters of Casterly Rock once fought together against House Targaryen. They had burned for it. Perhaps the Tyrell's would not hold Owen being a Lannister against him. If life had gone differently you would have been Lady Tyrell and Highgarden would have been home. "When is this supposed to happen?" "When they arrive. During war there is no certainty of when." "Very well. I shall inform my ladies." You turned to leave but Prince Aemond called out. "Yes, My Prince?" He seemed to be struggling for the right words. Prince Aemond's jaw was tense making the gaunt features of his face more prominent. You noticed the dark shapes under his eye. The thin leather on his body did not hide the exhausted bearing of its keeper.

Waiting for him to speak, you focused on the babe. "Can we sit? My legs are tired. Childbirth had taken a toll on your body. Moving about was no longer an unconscious effort. You only hoped that your body would resolve itself soon. Placing the babe in a crib beside the chair you sat down. Prince Aemond's leather creaked as he did the same. "We have not talked in a while." Prince Aemond was not looking at you, but at thin boney hands. Once these hands were pale with a tinge of pink and callouses. These days they were akin to bones. "Are you well?" Much to your displeasure there was genuine concern there. Maybe not what it once was but still there. You were not entirely sure what to think about that. One one hand there was displeasure at this weakness. On the other to lose every part of yourself would be a great sadness. "The war has been hard on us all." Was his unsatisfactory reply. A few more minutes of silence passed before Prince Aemond continued. "Your....friendship has waned." Was he blaming you for this?! "I am not sure waned is the word I would use. Perhaps completely obsolete is the word." You hoped you came off as cold rather than sulky. "I am not blaming you. I just feel this is a matter of importance." You gave a derisive snort that on any other occasion would have been embracing. Decorum was the furthest thing on your mind. And could anyone blame you? After years of friendship Prince Aemond had thrown you to the side. It had been so easy for him, a constant torment for you. "Why do you suddenly care?" Prince Aemond's face was still obscured. "I always have." Your hand twitched in irritation. "I doubt it." "I never meant to hurt you." "Much good that has done me." "Y/n please." But there was no pity in you. No matter how sad he looked you would not give way.

"Do you have any idea what it was like for me!? The constant humiliation I suffered while you continued on. Both of us were under suspicion yet only I suffered its affects. I have been by your side through everything. All those years. But you threw me to the wolves and abandoned me! As if I were nothing! So do not think for a second that any words will fix anything." You felt so light yet so heavy at that moment. These were words you had kept in for a year. To get it out was such a relief. But you were not done yet. "And your wife! Did you hear the things she did? All the rumors she spread and her constant torment. Did you know she had be undress her on your wedding night? Well, I suppose a woman you just met is more important than a friend of many years." The last part you spat out like a curse. Prince Aemond was still staring at his hands, still not looking up.

"Y/n, I am sorry-" You did not want to hear it. You would not hear it! Did Prince Aemond think an apology would fix anything? "Please leave." Prince Aemond finally lifted his head. To your alarm you saw tears in his eyes. There were not flowing like a waterfall but his eyes were bright. He looked to be in physical pain. Never before had you seen Prince Aemond tremble, but here he was. You reached for a bowl of warm water and a towel. Handing it to Prince Aemond you sat back down. Prince Aemond took off his eyepatch and held the towel to his eye. "I apologize if my words have cause you pain." It felt churlish not to say so. No matter how angry you were his pain still brought sympathy. "I think a maester may be of better use than I." The anger was gone. You hated to admit it but there was guilt. Whether it was warranted or not remained unclear. Your thoughts about Prince Aemond had been all over the place. You needed time alone, away from Prince Aemond. Perhaps you would never be able to face him again.

Prince Aemond left. Whatever might have happened one could not say. Not this time at least.

Notes:

Ladies and Gentlemen (are there any gentlemen is the crowd?), part one of this story is near completion. Just a few more chapters (about 3-4) and then the shitshow known as part 2 begins. You will notice that the reader drops "Rivers" when referring to Alys as a way of showing their deepening bond. I promise that Alys's motivations will be revealed in time, but that will have to wait. In the last chapter a few people asked if Aemond was in love with reader. The answer is no (thought this may change), at least not in a romantic way. Reader was his first friend and constant companion. He will always carry something for her regardless of time. When the reader referred to Aemond as a kinslayer in the last chapter it hurt because out of everyone, to hear it from Y/n was too much. We will also be getting an Aemond pov soon.

Also I made a mistake when it came to Y/n's family tree. I named her cousins wife Lady Joan when originally I named her Jenna. I will be going to change all the Joan's to Jenna's so I have that to look forward to. Also I named Laura Reed as a mother to readers father Owen Tyrell. Laura Reed is actually the mother of her mother. Bit of a whoops because Laura Reed being the mother to Amelia Tarley is important for this story.

About the magic. I had a bit of difficulty when it came to introducing magic as a plot device for this book because I was more focused on reader's relationships. But keep in mind that the magic aspect is very important to this book.

I honestly can't believe we have gotten this far into the book and I want to thank everyone who had read, liked and commented on my story!

Happy New Year!

If you want to join the taglist please let me known!

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hippiegoth97 · 6 months ago

Text

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 18

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 17

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescurtainbangz @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Content Warnings 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, teasing, mentions of smut, mentions of drugs, arguing, anger, angst, self-destructive tendencies, fluff, crying, smut, drug use, groping, fingering, handjob, oral sex, praise/degradation, choking, role-swapping, mentions of suicidal thoughts/ideation, mentions of drunk driving, mentions of vomit

Word Count: 16.3k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 18.1 Inside Out

Friday, June 2nd, 1989

You've worked with Eddie at The Hawk for a few weeks now, putting you exactly halfway to your six-month relationship goal. You have plans to celebrate the three-month mark with Eddie tonight, after your shift and a late birthday party for Dustin. Neither of you were able to get the day off to celebrate on the actual day, so your brother insisted on throwing the party today instead. 'It's only a week's difference', is what he told Mom when he begged to hold off on the festivities. You're surprised that Dustin would postpone his own birthday just to have you two there, but you find the sentiment very sweet.

"Hey, Y/N. We're almost done here, can you take the trash out back for me?" Jamie asks from behind the concession counter.

"Sure thing!" You reply, grabbing the big black bags gathered by the employee doors and pushing the metal bar with your back. You step out into the warm air of the early evening, making the short trek to the dumpster. You toss the bags in, wiping your hands on your pants afterwards. You're just about to turn around and go back inside, when you hear a small mew coming from underneath the metal receptacle. You get down on your hands and knees, peeking below the rusty bin to see where the sound came from. You find a tiny kitten hiding under there, staring at you with its perfectly round eyes. "Aw, hello there, little guy!" You coo, reaching a hand under the bin to coax the cat out.

"Mew." It says, inching towards you cautiously.

"That's right, it's okay. C'mere sweetie. You're safe." You continue to draw it out, wiggling your fingers playfully to maintain its attention.

"Mew." It speaks again, eventually coming close enough for you to scoop it out from there and into your arms.

"Hi there, it's okay. I'm gonna take care of you. You poor thing, how'd you end up out here?" You take a moment to have a good look at the little thing. It's all black, with piercing gray eyes, and so soft and fluffy despite being rather dirty. It's very cute, purring incessantly as you stroke its head. It's been years since you've owned a cat. Your previous one, Mews, died a few years ago. Your whole household was very sad when he had to be put down, he'd gotten attacked by a stray dog after escaping from the house one day. Mom couldn't bear to replace him, but maybe she'll let you keep this sweet little stranger you've found.

"You alright out here, sweetheart?" Eddie says from behind you, the heavy door shutting loudly after he steps outside. You turn around, and his eyes widen when he sees the cat cradled in your arms.

"I found this puffball under the dumpster. It's so precious, and it seems to like me." You say, absolutely smitten.

"Oh my god! Aren't you just adorable! Hey there, little kitty. Did Y/N save you from the garbage? You poor baby. It's okay, we'll take good care of you." Your mouth falls open at Eddie losing his mind over the kitten, you've never heard him baby-talk anyone or anything before. He has his face level with the cat, smiling wide as can be. His eyes catch yours for a moment, and he realizes how ridiculous he's acting. He stands up straight, clearing his throat. "Yeah...it's uh, pretty cute. I guess." He shrugs, playing it cool. But all you have in reply is uncontrollable laughter. He scowls at you, crossing his arms to demonstrate how unamused he is.

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I've just never seen you do that before! But it's really sweet." You reassure, giving him a kind glance. "You wanna hold it?" You offer, extending the feline towards him in your hands.

"You're damn right I wanna hold it! This is fuckin' awesome!" He exclaims, wiggling his fingers as he waits for you to give him the cat. You pass it over, and watch as Eddie carefully cradles it in his arms. "Aw, it's so soft. And all black, too? I've always wanted a cat, ever since I was a kid. Wayne's allergic, so he wanted a dog. But those kinda scare me, I got bit once and never trusted one since." He says solemnly, assuming there's no way either of you can keep this new friend.

"We can let it live at my place, if you want. I used to have a cat before, so I know all the ins and outs. And you can visit whenever you want." You explain, and he nods in agreement.

"You sure your mom won't mind, princess?" He asks, his eyes refusing to leave the bundle of joy currently vibrating in his gentle hold. He strokes its head and ears, making its eyes close blissfully.

"No, as long as I take care of it." You reply, and he finally looks in your direction again.

"What should we name it?" He asks, lifting it up to see if it's a boy or girl. "I dunno what it is, though." He says, goofily checking all angles to figure it out.

"A vet could tell us, we'll have to get it looked at before taking it home anyway." You reply, giggling at the puzzled expression on his face.

"Oh, okay. We'd better hurry, Dustin's party starts in a couple hours." He lowers the cat once more, keeping it nice and safe. You make a move to take it back, but Eddie turns away. "Nuh-uh! You can hold it in the van!" He protests like a child who doesn't want to share his new toy.

"But I'm the one who found it!" You huff, rolling your eyes. It's not fair, Eddie's hogging all the cuteness to himself.

"Don't care. My cat now." He says simply, walking back inside without holding the door for you. You scoff, following behind to gather your things from your shared locker.

"What is that...thing doing in my lobby?" Mr. Biggs bellows when he sees you leaving the break room. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he's practically glaring at the tiny kitten.

"We found it under the dumpster, but we were just leaving." You explain, your words coming out far more shaky than you'd like.

"Alright then, hop to! And get that pest out of my theater!" Biggs shouts, making you jump. You nod silently, pulling Eddie by the arm to get away from this awful man.

"I'm sorry, little fluffypants. Mr. Biggs is a mean, mean man. But we won't let him hurt you, will we? No we won't!" Eddie says to the kitten in the infantile voice again, which makes you smile. He's always been a gentle soul, but this is a whole other level. You walk together across the street, and Eddie puts the cat in your lap once you slide into your seat. "Here ya go, 'lil cutie. Y/N will keep you safe." He gives it a final pat, running around to the driver's side.

The vet visit is brief, no more than an hour. You find out she's a girl, about two months old. She's free of fleas and worms, perfectly healthy besides needing a warm bath. You'll have to return in a few months to get her spayed and vaccinated, but the vet says you're free to go. You pay the bill, and make a quick stop at the Big Buy to get some food, litter, a few toys, and a collar for your new pet. You wanted to get a pink collar, but Eddie insisted on gray to match her eyes. "So, what should we call her?" You ask as you approach the checkout with your supplies. Unnamed Girl Cat sits in the child's seat of your cart, sleeping soundly on your theater vest.

"Hmm, it should be something cool. A name no other cat has." Eddie says, racking his brain while peering at the kitten.

"Definitely, something original. Like Madonna." You add. Eddie scoffs at that, hoping you're not serious. You roll your eyes, explaining yourself. "Not exactly like that. It's just an example, jeez."

"Good, because I'm not gonna name our cat after a popstar." He chuckles. "What about....Ozzy?" He suggests.

"If we can't name her after a popstar, we can't name her after anyone from a rock band, either." You retort.

"Ugh, fine. Would be pretty kickass, though." He grumbles, crossing his arms. He thinks about it some more as you put your items on the conveyor belt to be rung up. Suddenly, a light bulb goes off in his head. "Oh, I know!" He exclaims, making the cashier glare in your direction. "What about Arwen?"

"Like Lord of the Rings?" You question, remembering hearing that name quite often when Eddie read the books to you. You recall the character being described as a beautiful elven woman, with pointed ears, dark hair, and gray eyes. Much like your four-legged friend, coincidentally. You glance at the kitten, saying the name in your head a couple times to see if it fits. You smile affectionately as it rings through your brain, deeming it the perfect title for her. You look at Eddie, giving an approving nod. "Arwen it is. It suits her."

"Yes!" He jumps and punches the air, ecstatic that you've agreed to go along with the rather nerdy name.

"Shh, you'll wake her up being so loud like that." You say in a hushed tone, nudging your head at Arwen slumbering on your clothes.

"Shit, sorry. I'm glad you like the name, though. This is the perfect three-month anniversary present, by the way. We have a cat...together." Eddie gushes, speaking lowly in your ear.

"Well, I certainly didn't plan on it. But she's ours now. Our own little furball. We're almost like parents now." You giggle at his breath tickling against your skin, letting him leave your side to pay for your supplies. You load the bags back into the cart, trying your best to not disturb Arwen's nap.

Eddie chuckles. "I suppose we are. Arwen couldn't have picked a better woman to be her 'cat mom'." He says sweetly, taking his change and shoving it in his pocket.

"And you're gonna be a great 'cat dad'." You reply, taking his hand as you push the cart through the automatic doors. His thumb runs over your fingers, a simple affectionate gesture. "I just hope Dustin won't get jealous."

"Nah, he'll be excited enough to be Arwen's uncle." He smiles.

"I feel a bit bad, though. She might distract everyone from what we're supposed to be focused on. Dusty already postponed his party for us, how's it gonna look when we show up with a damn kitten?" You feel rather torn on the subject. On the one hand, it wouldn't be right to leave Arwen out on her own. But on the other hand, the timing isn't exactly convenient.

"Baby, relax. It'll be fine. We'll go to your house, get her settled. And then we'll celebrate your brother with cake and presents. And after all that, we'll finally have some time for ourselves." He reassures you, closing the back doors to the van once your purchases are safely inside. You scoop Arwen out of the cart so Eddie can return it, which unfortunately rouses her out of her peaceful sleep.

"Mew." Arwen whines in protest.

"I'm sorry, little one. We're gonna take you home now." You speak sweetly to her, scratching behind her ears. She starts purring again, which makes your heart melt. Eddie returns to your side, helping you get into the van. Arwen quickly falls asleep in your lap, lulled by the smoothness of the road beneath the van's tires. You pull into the driveway, finding a few more cars and some bicycles out front. It appears you're running a little tardy to the party. You've lost track of time taking care of the cat. "Shit, we're late. Mom's gonna kill me." You groan, dreading walking through that door.

"Y/N, relax. It's just a birthday party, which Dustin's a bit old for, if I'm honest." He chuckles, reaching over to stroke your knee. He leans across the console to give you a comforting kiss. "C'mon, let's go inside. You take Arwen, and I'll bring in her stuff and the gifts. 'Kay?" He offers, doing his best to put you at ease.

"Okay." You nod, hopping out with the kitten. You wait to walk in with Eddie once he retrieves everything from the back, leading the way to the front door. You go inside, finding a rather crowded living room. "Hey everybody, sorry we're late. We found a certain somebody under the dumpster at work." You announce, letting everyone take a moment to notice the ball of fluff sitting in your arms.

"Aw, it's so cute!" Max says, walking over to see the cat up close. She looks to you, asking permission to pet Arwen. You nod your head with a smile, and she reaches a hand forward to stroke the kitten.

Everyone else gets up from their seats, coming over to have their turn admiring the cat. "Alright, don't crowd her. She's a little skittish." You say calmly, letting each guest have a chance to say a brief hello.

"What the hell is that?" Mom asks as she walks in from the kitchen. Her eyes widen when they fall on Arwen, before flicking to you in accusation.

"This is Arwen. She's our new cat. I found her at work." You explain, swallowing hard. You were worried she'd react like this. Mews' passing was the hardest on her, he was her best friend after Dad left.

"Oh, I don't know, Y/N. Do you really have time for a cat? You've got work, and Eddie. I'm not going to take care of her for you." She says sternly, crossing her frosting-splattered arms.

"I wouldn't ask you to, Mom. Me and Eddie are going to look after her together. She's our cat. We'll make it work." You reply, rolling your eyes at her being so averse to Arwen's presence.

"Wait, Arwen? Like Lord of the Rings?" Dustin asks.

"Yep! She's got dark hair and gray eyes, just like the character in the books." You chirp.

"And how do you know that?" He questions, quirking and eyebrow.

"Because Eddie read them to me. You're not the only nerd in this family, you know." You retort, your eyes rolling in their sockets beyond control once more.

"Jesus, Eddie's really done a number on you." He laughs, and the others join in. You can't stop the blush that colors your cheeks. You do find it a little frustrating, however, that your brother thinks these interests hinge on Eddie being in your life. As if you have no individual thought, molding yourself into an extension of your boyfriend.

"Whatever, I've gotta give Arwen a bath. She's covered in garbage juice." You huff, leaving the room abruptly to tend to your pet.

"Ew!" Everyone squeals, rushing to get to the kitchen to wash their hands. Eddie follows you down the hall, noticing your upset.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" He asks, setting the bags down on your bed. He digs out the pet shampoo, bringing it into the bathroom where you've got the water running.

"No. But I'm not gonna make a big deal out of it. It's his damn birthday, it's not about me." You say flatly, checking to make sure the water isn't too hot. Arwen sits patiently on the fuzzy bath mat, looking at you with her ashen eyes. She's calm now, but you're sure she'll object to being put into the shallow bath once it's ready.

"I know, princess. But you can still tell me, while we're away from everyone else. What's bothering you?" He continues, sitting cross-legged with you on the bathroom floor. He sets the shampoo bottle on the edge of the tub, putting his hand on your back to rub back and forth.

"I just find it annoying, what Dustin said. Like I'm only interested in D&D and the books you've shown me because I'm with you." You say grouchily, resenting the idea. "I've always liked plenty of geeky shit on my own. Star Wars, Labyrinth, things like that. And I asked for science kits and mythology books as opposed to Barbies and makeup at birthdays or Christmas." You continue to rant, with Eddie listening intently. "Not to mention, I'm an even bigger bookworm than he is, and that's saying something." You sigh, shaking your head as it falls to look at your feet. "I dunno, maybe I'm being overly sensitive. But as much as I'm borderline obsessed with you, I'm still my own person." You shut the water off once it's deep enough and the right temperature. You lift up Arwen, setting her carefully into the water.

"I don't think you're being sensitive, love. Look, I don't think Dustin necessarily meant it that way, but he could've been better about it." He watches as you carefully wet Arwen's fur, continuing to talk while you clean her up. "As a lifelong nerd myself, I've seen many geeky girls get treated differently than the guys. I've always found it a bit silly, but it happens." You open the shampoo, squeezing a small amount into your hands to lather it. You bring it to the cat's fur, massaging it in throughly. "But I want you to know that I see you as a major nerd, regardless if we're together or not. I know you're not my 'clone' or anything. I probably wouldn't go out with you if you were. I'm not that vain." He jokes, making you giggle.

"Thank you, Eds. I'm glad you understand." You allow the smile from your laugh to remain on your face, relaxing as you finally get to rinse Arwen's coat. "She's very good in the bath, which is odd for a cat. Mews used to scratch the shit out of me to get out of the water." You observe, giving the kitten a sideways glance.

"It's because you're her mother now, sweetheart. She picked you, so she trusts you." He speaks in your ear, his breath fanning hotly over your skin.

"Is it weird that I find it really hot when you say that?" You ask, biting your lip.

"Not at all, babydoll. You're such a responsible young woman, more than capable of caring for a cute little creature like this." He says, leaning into your well-documented attraction to praise. He's not even saying anything particularly dirty, and yet you find yourself getting warm under the collar. You suppose it's due to the constant self-doubt you hold inside your head. To have Eddie quell your anxieties in this way is oddly erotic.

"Mmm, keep going." You sigh blissfully, reaching for the towel you set aside for Arwen. You lift her as carefully as you can, bundling her up like a burrito to dry off. Eddie scoots to sit behind you, spreading his legs apart. You lean against him, holding the cat in your arms.

"You're so smart, and independent, and mature." He continues, planting blazing kisses on your neck as he speaks. "You're your own person, angel. You can do anything you set your mind to." He nips your sweet spot with his teeth, drawing a light moan from you. "Damn, you're really into compliments, aren't you?" He smirks against your skin, loving every second of this.

"Only from you, Eds. They're so sincere when they come out of your mouth." You exhale, remembering what you're meant to be doing as opposed to this. "We should finish getting Arwen settled, we're neglecting the party." You can't help coming off a bit whiny as you speak. But you made a commitment to be here for your brother, and you plan to stick to it. He only turns eighteen once.

"I suppose you're right, sweetheart. We'll pick this up later." He agrees, helping you stand up while holding Arwen.

"We better. I'm gonna be thinking about it all night." You say lustfully, handing Eddie the kitten for the time being. He follows you to your room, eyes widened at the thought of you craving him for hours on end. Just waiting for the right moment to take what you want. You both take off your matching vests, bow ties, and shoes, leaving the rest of your uniform on for the time being.

You set up Arwen's litter box, setting her inside to see if she'll use it. She stands awkwardly on her tiny paws, looking to you for guidance. You figure it'll take a few tries to get her to understand what the box is for, but you let her get acquainted with it in the meantime. You open the cat food, pouring it into one of the bowls you bought for her. You ask Eddie to fill the other with some water from the sink, setting it on the floor beside the food. Everything else you bought can wait for the time being, and you sit on the floor for a few minutes with Arwen still standing in the litter box. "How long do you think it'll take?" Eddie asks, his eyes watching the kitten curiously.

"I dunno, I'd like her to try to go before we get back to the party. It's not exactly pleasant to have a cat piss on you, no matter how cute she is." You reply, looking for any change in expression or stance from Arwen.

"We could keep her on a towel if it's taking too long. It's also a little weird to wait for a cat to poop." Eddie chuckles, his shoulder brushing yours as he leans on his hand.

"I agree. Towel it is. Worst case scenario, we throw it in the wash." You nod, taking Arwen out of the box while Eddie retrieves a dry towel. You walk back down the hall to rejoin the party, taking one of the spare chairs. Eddie sits first, with you on top of him with the cat in your lap.

"You guys didn't wanna change clothes?" Steve asks, scrunching his nose at how uncomfortable your uniforms look.

"Nah, they probably won't stay in them very long after the party anyway." Robin quips, making everyone laugh.

"Ugh, please don't talk about my sister like that!" Dustin shouts, covering his ears.

"Alright, alright. That's enough now, it's time for presents." Mom says, shutting everybody up. Dustin sits in a chair placed across from everyone else in the room. Mom holds the camera ready, waiting for someone to give Dusty his first gift. "Who wants to go first?" Mom asks, glancing around the room.

"How about I start with the package from Will and Jane?" Dustin suggests, getting up to grab it from the kitchen counter. It's been sitting there for the entire week, calling his name to open it. But since he begged Mom to let him postpone the party, she said he'd have to wait.

"That's a great idea! I know it's been hard to be patient with that one." Mom replies, waiting for him to reveal what's inside the box. He cuts it open with a small knife from the kitchen, and pulls out the packing paper. He reveals a lemon-yellow Surfer Boy Pizza t-shirt, presumably from Jane. And the other item in the box is a folded up piece of canvas. He carefully unfolds it, his eyes widening as he finds a highly-detailed portrait of him and all his friends in a huddle. From you, to Eddie, to Hopper, even the twins, the gang's all there in perfect likeness.

"Wow, this is amazing." Dustin says, a single tear falling down his cheek. He turns the canvas around to show everyone, and you all gasp in turn at how gorgeous the painting is. Will has always been an incredibly skilled artist, which he plans to turn into a career illustrating for comic books.

"Damn, everybody's in it! I wish Will was here so we could tell him how awesome it is." Steve says, smirking at his signature coif of hair captured in an uncanny swoosh in the picture.

"I'll make sure to call him later." Dustin replies, suddenly missing his friend very much. He sees something else in the box, a blue envelope. He tears it open, and he reads the card inside aloud. "Happy 18th birthday, kiddo. Sending love and hugs from California. We wish we could be there to celebrate with you and the gang. But we're there in spirit, today, and every day. Hope to see you soon, love Joyce, Hop, Jane, Jonathan, and Will. P.S. Here's some cash to soften the blow of our absence, don't go blowing it all on nougat!" His breath shudders on the last couple words, and you can feel everyone's hearts swell in an overpowering, bittersweet fashion. "Fuck, maybe I should've saved this one for last." Dustin jokes, wiping his eyes.

"No shit! That's gonna be tough to follow." Mike quips, drawing light-hearted chuckles from everyone in the room.

"Okay, hold up the painting, Dusty. And then we'll move on." Mom says, sniffling a little herself. She clicks the camera, and the photo spits out a moment later. "We'll have to get a nice frame for that. Okay, who's next?"

"I'll go." Steve says, handing Dustin a raggedy bundle of red wrapping paper and scotch tape.

"It's from both of us." Robin chimes in, a bit embarrassed at her lack of gift-wrapping skills. Dustin tears open the paper, and finds a Family Video vest underneath. There's even a tag with his own name on it clipped to the breast. "We know you've been begging us for a job, so we thought you could work with us over the summer." She explains, smiling wide.

"Hell yeah! I can't wait!" Dustin exclaims, holding up the green uniform for Mom to snap another photo. The next gifts go as follows. He receives a hardcover compilation of all the Watchmen comics from Lucas and Erica, an Oingo Boingo cassette tape from Mike, a Walkman from Max, and a case of 3 Musketeers bars from Ian and James. Dustin thanks every single one of them for the presents, and Mom takes a photo of each item.

Next up is Nancy, who bestows him with a Caltech sweatshirt. She had Jonathan send it over all the way from California, as it is the prestigious school Dustin has chosen to attend in the fall. "I know you'll fit right in the second you walk through the door, but I figure this should help, too." She says sweetly.

"I'll wear it as much as I can, Nance. Thanks." Dustin smiles, and it's now Eddie's turn. He hands Dustin a large gift bag, which houses a black leather jacket that matches his own. "Oh, wow! This is so bitchin', Eddie!" He cheers, standing up to give him a high five.

"You know it, man. And just a heads up...total chick magnet. You wear that, and you'll be beating them off with a stick." Eddie says cooly, and Dustin nods in understanding.

"I don't recall you exactly drowning in girls, Eddie. Hell, you're lucky to have Y/N sitting in your lap right now." Steve interjects, slightly offended at not being the one giving dating advice.

"Maybe not, but Dustin is also a lot more...approachable than I am. If he has the badass look to go with it, he'll be unstoppable." Eddie retorts, narrowing his eyes at Steve.

"Okay, I don't think I need to hear anymore of you two trying to corrupt me sweet baby boy. Y/N, it's your turn." Mom cuts in, gesturing for you to keep things moving.

"Mom!" Dustin whines, embarrassed at your mother calling him such childish things. She just shoos her hand at him, and you carefully pass Arwen over to Eddie to present your gift. You gingerly remove the item you purchased from the greenhouse box you've kept it in, bringing it over so your brother can see. "Oh, wow! A Venus flytrap! I've always wanted one of these!" Dustin cheers, smiling ear to ear as you give him the carnivorous plant.

"Now, be careful with it. There's instructions in the box on how to water and feed it properly. But I know you've begged Mom over and over for one. And now you don't have to." You explain, returning to Eddie's lap after taking Arwen in your arms once more.

"I just think they're creepy, that's all." Mom says, but she can't necessarily argue against you gifting him one. "Okay, my turn!" Mom claps her hands in excitement, picking up the box beside her. She lays it in Dustin's lap, taking her seat a second later.

Dustin opens up the box, finding a brand new Nintendo Gameboy inside. It comes with Super Mario Land, Baseball, Tennis, and Alleyway. "Whoa, a Gameboy! That's frickin' sweet!" Lucas says, totally jealous of his friend's new present.

"How'd you get one? They've barely been out and most stores sold out almost immediately!" Dustin asks, looking at Mom with amazement.

"Angie happens to have some connections, people she met after moving in with your father. She managed to snag one just for you, so I suppose this also counts as her gift." Mom explains, taking one last photo before everyone makes their way to the snack table.

You're about to stand up, when you notice a small brown pile on Arwen's towel. "Oh, well, looks like she finally went to the bathroom. I'm gonna grab a fresh towel." You say to Eddie who's still sitting beneath you.

"No problem, princess. I'll tell them to wait before lighting the candles." Eddie says, getting up after you. He heads for the dining room, while you go down the hall to freshen up Arwen's make-shift restroom. You return shortly, standing beside Eddie as Mom begins to ignite the candles on Dustin's cake. Eddie wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close. His free hand briefly strokes Arwen's head, drawing a small, happy meow from her.

"Alright, here we go, Dusty." Mom says, before leading you all in the traditional birthday song.

"...Happy Birthday to you!" You all cheer as the song ends, watching Dustin blow out the candles to make a wish. Everyone claps, and the candles are removed so the cake can be sliced up.

"Can I hold Arwen for a little bit, Y/N?" Dustin asks, pleading with his eyes.

"Sure! Just keep her bottom covered with the towel, she's not box-trained yet." You instruct, before allowing your brother to hold her.

"No problem." Dustin replies, giving Arwen's head the gentlest of pats.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Mom asks, nudging her head for you two to talk in the kitchen. You nod, leaving the party behind to see what she wants.

"What's up, Mom?" You ask, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed. Your eyes flick to Eddie's across the room, and he silently checks with you to make sure you're okay. You nod, and he moves on to talk to Steve and the others.

"What the hell were you thinking bringing that kitten here?" She asks, trying her best to hide her annoyance.

"I found her out in the alley all by herself, Mom. And we would've had her live at Eddie's, but his uncle Wayne is allergic. But like I already said, we..." You point your finger at yourself and in Eddie's direction. "...will take care of her. What's the big deal?" You ask, not even attempting to control your attitude.

"The big deal is that this is still my house, Y/N. You could've at least run this by me first, but you didn't. You just stroll in here with a filthy cat, drawing the attention away from Dustin on his birthday..." She rebuttals, her voice raising slightly.

"I didn't plan on this happening. I would never want to steal his spotlight, Mom. And he seems to really like Arwen, so can you lay off a little bit?" You reply, matching her volume. You notice a couple pairs of eyes flicking in your direction, you really don't want to turn this into a fight. But Mom seems to have other ideas.

"No, I can't! You can't just make decisions like this without asking me!" She gets a little louder, drawing a small crowd. Perfect, a dreaded mother-daughter showdown on Dustin's special day.

"I don't need your permission for every choice I make! I'm twenty-one, for crying out loud! I'm not a little kid anymore! I said I'd take care of her, and that you don't have to do anything! You're being totally unreasonable!" You shout back, killing any and all outside conversation. Everyone is looking at you now, watching silently as your faces scrunch in anger.

"I don't appreciate you talking to me like this, Y/N! I'm your mother, and it wouldn't kill you to check in with me once in a while! But you're so concerned with work, and Eddie, and now this damn cat! I barely see you around anymore, and you have the nerve to say I'm being unreasonable?!" Claudia yells.

"Forgive me for wanting to have a life of my own, Mom! I've barely dated or had any friends my entire life, always staying home and studying! I'd think you'd want me to get out of the house! Eddie makes me happy, my job makes me happy, and Arwen is a part of that now. You used to be so supportive of me, and now you're getting on my case about everything!" You're almost screaming by the end, heart pounding and chest heaving as you feel your skin turn red. Your stare breaks hers, trailing around the room to find the gobsmacked faces of every party guest looking at you. No one says a word, and you're absolutely mortified for making a scene. This is the last thing you wanted to do, and yet you've managed to do it anyway. You stand in awkward silence, before deciding to flee to your room. You walk briskly down the hall, hoping nobody is following you. You shrink into your room, slamming the door shut and clicking the lock.

You slide down the wooden wall you've put up to keep everyone out, sitting with your knees tented in front of you. You pound your fists into the carpet, needing a way to release your frustrations. The shag below stings your flesh as your balled hands collide with it over and over. You let out small, stunted grunts through clenched teeth in an attempt to keep the noise down, allowing a few tears to fall hotly down your cheeks. If it wouldn't make this situation worse, you'd bang your head backwards against the door.

You can't think, or speak, all you can do is be angry. Angry at your mother for berating you like a child, for doubting your capabilities as a person, in front of everyone. "Y/N." You hear a muffled voice speak from outside your window, and you look up from your fit to find Eddie standing outside. Arwen's nestled calmly in his arms, her teeny tiny face showing an absurd amount of concern for you.

You sigh, getting up from the floor to open the window. You slide the pane along its track, sniffing harshly. "What?" You say flatly, not particularly in the mood for company.

"Can we come in, sweetheart? I noticed you locked the door." Eddie asks cautiously, as he can see you’re boiling mad inside, threatening to blow your top at any moment.

"Why? You gonna yell at me, too?" You ask, unable to control yourself. You know he only wants to help, but something inside you wants to spit venom at anyone and anything that comes across your path.

"No, princess. I just want to be here for you, like always. And Arwen misses you." He replies, lifting her slightly to emphasize his point.

"Ugh, fine. But I don't wanna talk. I don't wanna do anything." You step aside, taking the cat so Eddie can climb into your room.

"That's okay, baby. I just didn't want you stewing all alone." He speaks gently.

"I don't need a babysitter, Eds." You snap, sitting on your bed with your back turned to him.

"I know you don't. I didn't mean it like that. But I can go if you want...wait with the others until you've calmed down." You can hear Eddie gaining some frustration of his own, and you don't blame him. You're not being very nice, quite the contrary. He's the one person you should never treat this way. You know that. But you feel like shutting everyone out, you can't handle being around people right now.

"Please do." You regret the words the second they leave your lips, deep down you want him to stay. As awful as you're being right now, you want him to talk you down, to make you okay again.

His breath catches slightly, you've never told him to go away before. His heart aches at hearing you say that, but he nods. He supposes you don't need him to fix all your problems, or to hold your hand through every little thing. But he wants to, so badly. And to have you deny him, it definitely hurts. "Okay. We'll be waiting for you, Y/N. I love you." He says glumly, heading back to the window to climb out again.

"I love you too." You reply, not wanting him to leave without hearing you say it back. You listen to the window shut once more, leaving you and Arwen all alone in your room. She stares at you, her pupils following the tears falling freely from your eyes. "I know, kitty. I've made an ass out of myself, huh?" You say to her, letting out a weak chuckle at the thought of talking to your cat.

"Mew." She replies, but you have no idea what it means. You don't speak feline, unfortunately.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. What am I gonna do, Arwen? I yelled at Mom again, and I made Eddie go away. I feel like I'm back at square one. The same girl who locks herself away from anyone that wants to help her." You sigh, bringing your hand up to pet the kitten's head.

"Mew." She says again, no change in tone or inflection whatsoever. A low purr comes from her at your soft touches, and she tilts her head to allow you better access to her left ear.

"Well, you're certainly making me feel better with how cute you're acting right now." You giggle, allowing a chunk of the wall you built up be chipped away by the magic of an animal bonding with their human.

"Mew." Arwen meows again, still as one-note and shrill as every meow before it.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to go back out there sometime. Hopefully I haven't killed the mood too much. It's also meant to be mine and Eddie's anniversary today, you know." You continue conversing with the petite kitten before you, but you don't imagine she's listening all that well. Her eyes are held shut as she enjoys the scratching of your fingertips along her cheeks and neck.

"Mew." She replies, rolling onto her back to expose her tummy. Her paws stand straight up into the air, and she looks at you expectantly to grant her request.

"Alright, you spoiled little thing. I'll rub your belly, and then we go back to the party, okay?" You offer, taking a page from Eddie's book to speak childishly to Arwen.

"Mew!" She says enthusiastically, louder than before. You giggle again, bringing your fingers to the soft flesh of her stomach. You give her some tickles, which she reacts to in the most adorable way. Her paws come down to encapsulate your hand, the claws digging in slightly. You don't mind, she's just being playful. You continue like this for a while, letting the stress of the day gradually evaporate.

"Okay, Arwen. We've had enough alone time, I think. I've got some apologizing to do." You state, rolling the cat onto her stomach once again before heading for the door.

"Y/N!" Everyone cheers from their seats as you re-enter the room. You allow a small smile to creep across your face. You're surprised they've missed your presence, and that they aren't totally pissed at you. You notice your mother is missing from the group, wondering where she went off to.

"Where's Mom?" You ask, the smile fading slightly at the thought of how you spoke to her earlier. Sure, she started it. But you certainly took it upon yourself to end it poorly.

"She, uh...decided to go to the Hideaway for a bit after you stormed off." Dustin explains uneasily. "Don't sweat it, though. She needs to cool off, she'll come around." He says, a bit more cheery now.

"You want some cake, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, bringing a paper plate with a large slice of Dustin's chocolate cake to you along with a plastic fork.

"Yes, please. Some empty calories would be great right now. And I'm sorry for being so awful earlier, you were just trying to help." You say apologetically, leaning into him to plant a warm kiss to his lips. He happily meets you halfway, earning 'OOH's and grotesque noises from the others.

"It's alright, love. I know you didn't mean anything by it." He grins, moving closer to speak in your ear. "We're still on for later, right, princess?" He smolders, making your cheeks heat up.

"Always, Eds." You reply, eyes meeting his with burning intensity.

"That's what I like to hear. Eat up, darling. You're gonna need all the energy you can get." Eddie instructs, exchanging the cat for the cake. You take the flimsy plate in your hands, and promptly dig a large bite out of the slice. You bring the fork-full of fluffy cake and thick frosting to your lips, opening nice and wide as he watches you put it in your mouth. His smile grows wider, and he doesn't have to utter another syllable. You know exactly what he's thinking, two simple words meant just for you: good girl.

"Ugh, can you guys stop flirting for five minutes? We're trying to have a party here." Erica expresses her disgust.

"Sure thing, Lady Applejack. My apologies." Eddie replies, bowing dramatically. You giggle at his antics, following him over to the couch to finish your cake.

"You sure you're alright, Y/N? Things got pretty nasty earlier." Robin inquires. She unsuccessfully attempts to lick some icing from her upper lip, her eyes crossing as she tries to find its exact location.

"Yeah, I'm alright. And I'm sorry for making a scene. It was really embarrassing." You sigh, keeping your eyes on your plate as you wait for forgiveness.

"It's fine, Y/N. Everyone fights with their parents sometimes, no biggie." Steve assures you, walking over to clap a hand on your shoulder. You meet his eyes, finding kind understanding there. The others nod and verbalize their agreement. You let the tension slip away, allowing yourself to sit closer to Eddie and fully relax.

"Okay. I'll try not to overthink it." You reply, shoving another large bite of chocolate overload into your mouth.

"You? Overthinking things? No way!" Dustin quips sarcastically. You all share a hearty laugh at this. It's a well-known fact within the group at this point that your brain works overtime in every aspect of your life.

The remainder of the party goes smoothly. You play a few rounds of charades, and Dustin sets up his Gameboy. Lucas, Max, Erica, and the twins watch over his shoulders as he tests out the games. You talk casually about work and life in general with the other adults, which you find a little mind-boggling. A couple of years ago, you were a bunch of crazy kids worrying about prom, and graduation and college applications. And now here you are, talking about video rentals and annoying customers. The majority of you still live at home, however, which just adds to the awkward confusion of this transitional time in your life.

"So, it's your anniversary today, right?" Nancy asks.

"Yeah, three whole months with this nutcase." You joke, giving Eddie a quick peck on the cheek. He shoots you an offended look, but you just roll your eyes. "You know I wouldn't have it any other way, Eds." You giggle, and his smiles too.

"It's alright, princess. I'll get you back for that later." He replies, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"So you're halfway there, then?" Robin asks, not fully realizing that she's potentially spilled the beans. Your eyes widen, and the others fall silent.

"Halfway to what?" Eddie questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing!" You exclaim, trying to save your ass. You don't want to spoil the surprise, but it might make Eddie suspicious that you're up to something bad.

"Okay, I can see there's something I'm not supposed to know yet. It's a good mystery, though, right?" He looks at you to cast his fears aside. He has no idea what Robin is referring to, but he's had an inkling that you've been planning something for him.

"Yes! I swear that it is, but I don't wanna say just yet. I'm not so sure it'll happen now." Your tone falls sullen, remembering how angry Mom became earlier. If she really thinks so little of you and your choices, especially regarding Eddie, she might just snatch her promise away in the blink of an eye.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Y/N. Don't worry about it." Robin insists. "And sorry for my...loose lips." She bows her head like a scolded dog, feeling guilty for almost ruining your plans.

"It's alright. I'll just have to deal with three months of Eddie trying to guess what it is now." You laugh, picturing him writing down a laundry list of ideas, begging and pleading with you to tell him 'yes' of 'no' to every single one.

"And I won't rest until I figure it out! It must be pretty good if you're trying so hard to keep it from me." Eddie replies, nudging your shoulder with his own. The motion startles Arwen out of her third or fourth nap of the day.

"Mew!" She shouts, growling lowly at being woken up.

"Aw, I'm sorry little baby. I didn't mean to wake you. Will some belly rubs make it all better?" Eddie coos at the kitten in his silly voice. The cat rolls over, accepting his apology. The others' jaws drop at seeing him talk this way. Even Dustin and his friends stop paying attention to the Gameboy to confirm that the founder of the Hellfire Club was, in fact, speaking childishly to a small animal. They've never seen Eddie be so soft before, except when it comes to you. He notices their staring, clearing his throat. "Um..." He tries to come up with a cover, but nothing springs to mind. "Shut up." He says, not wanting to deal with being ridiculed for this.

"Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Eddie?" Mike asks, utterly stunned at what he's witnessed.

"Don't listen to him, baby. It's so sweet that you love Arwen as much as I do. She likes it when you talk like that, it's cute." You try your best to comfort Eddie as his cheeks burn bright red.

"More like nauseating." Lucas says, scrunching his face.

"Lay off, guys. You're just too immature to understand." You warn, glaring at the kiddos to intimidate them into behaving. They stick out their tongues in response, effectively putting an end to this conversation.

"Alright, well I think we're just about done here. Robin, Nance and I will take the kids home. Thanks for having us over, we should do it again sometime." Steve says, attempting to corral the younger party guests towards the door. They whine and groan in protest, but he hears none of it. They don't call Harrington 'The Babysitter' for nothing.

"Bye guys, see you 'round. Thanks for coming." You reply, watching as they march out the door to load into their various vehicles. Dustin follows them to give more thorough good-bye's, closing the door once he's finished.

"Thanks for hanging out tonight, guys. It means a lot." Dustin says, walking over to you. He bends down slightly to pet Arwen for a moment. She purrs at his touch, her eyes closing in contentment. "She really is adorable, I'm glad you guys found her. I know you'll be amazing parents for Arwen." He says sweetly, making your heart swell.

"It was a lot of fun, Dusty. Well, besides the fight earlier. And yeah, we're glad we found her, too." You reply with a blissful smile.

"Well, I'm gonna go to my room and enjoy my gifts. Goodnight, guys." He says, standing upright once more.

"'Night, Dustin. Happy birthday." You say softly.

"'Night. Happy birthday, buddy." Eddie replies. Dustin leaves the room clutching his gifts, and it's just the three of you now. "Looks like we're on our own now. You wanna put Arwen in her cat bed and go outside with me?" Eddie asks, noticing the kitten in his lap has fallen asleep yet again.

"What's outside?" You ask, unsure what Eddie's talking about.

"Your anniversary present. Well, it's actually in my pocket. But we'll have to go outside to use it." He shuffles around as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake the cat up again. He manages to pull a blunt out of his pocket to show it to you. "I figure we can finally try fucking while we're high. I know you've been wanting to, sweetheart." He says, using his dark tone to tempt you.

"Mm, yes please." You coo, leaning in to give him a hungry kiss. You pull away a moment later, resisting the urge to tear his clothes off right here and now. "C'mon. Let's put her in my room." You stand up, waiting for him to follow you. You can't hide your enthusiasm, you need him as soon as possible.

"As you wish, darling." He replies, eager to get your anniversary celebration into full swing.

Part 18.2: Dazed and Confused

"You feelin' it yet, sweetheart?" Eddie asks as you inhale the final drags of your anniversary present.

"I think so, only one way to find out, though." You say through a giggle, obviously staring at his lips. You've been sitting barefoot in your backyard for a while, smoking the joint Eddie showed you earlier as the sun begins to set. Mom still hasn't come back yet. You're not sure when she'll return, or what particular mood she might be in when she does. You don't really care at the moment, however, as you're about to kiss your handsome boyfriend while under the influence of marijuana.

"My thoughts exactly." Eddie chuckles, leaning over to press his lips to yours. Immediately, you can tell that the drug has begun to take effect. This kiss feels absolutely amazing, all warm and fuzzy. You both let out low moans at the sensation, opening your mouths to play around with your tongues. You instinctively lay down in the grass you've been sitting on, allowing him to hover over you. His hands drag slowly up and down your body, lighting fireworks beneath your skin through your clothes. You do the same, starting with tangling your fingers in his hair.

You scratch your nails around his scalp, and he breaks his mouth away from yours to kiss your neck. "Fuck, Eds. This is incredible." You sigh, in total awe of how powerful everything feels. Your hands leave his thick locks, running down his back until you reach his ass. You squeeze the firm rounds of it, causing him to groan as he bites harshly on your throat. "Everything feels so fucking good, baby. We should go to my room, I need to feel you. All of you." You hate how goddamn needy you sound, but you can't help it. Every rush of hot breath or graze of fingers over fabric is amplified immensely.

"You sure we can't just stay here? I don't wanna leave this spot." Eddie says in an attempt to convince you to stay put. If it weren't for potential nosey neighbors peeking from their windows, or grass stains ruining your uniform, you'd absolutely let him take you right here.

"We can't, Eds. We'll get all dirty, and someone might see. C'mon, I also have a twig poking into my ass." You tap his shoulders, waiting for him to get off of you. He whines petulantly in response. But he knows you're right, despite his drug-addled brain telling him to keep going. He backs off, inelegantly standing on his own two feet before assisting you. You make the ill-advised decision to forgo walking through the whole house, opting to make an attempt at climbing through your bedroom window instead. You slide the pane along its track, and almost fall flat on your face as you clumsily climb over the sill. "Oh, fuck!" You yelp, catching yourself just before your head smashes onto the carpet. You laugh at your silly display, and how wobbly your body is.

"Take it easy, sweetheart." Eddie chuckles, enjoying your ass on full view for him as you haven't gotten up yet. He climbs in after you, lifting you off the floor. You both slump onto the bed, him laying behind you as your legs hang sideways over the edge. "I hope we don't wake Arwen again, I don't want her to see what I'm gonna do to you." He says breathily, trying to contain his laughter at the bumbling nature of your movements.

You poke your head up to look over at the kitten's bed, finding that she hasn't stirred one bit through all your racket. "She's still asleep. Can you shut the window, Eds?" You ask, beginning to undo the buttons of your dress shirt.

"Sure thing, doll." He replies. He hops off the bed with a grunt and slides the glass over to close you off from the world. You lay down flat on the bed, scooting yourself backwards with kicking feet as your fingers pop each button through their holes. By the time Eddie returns to you, you've got your shirt open, the sides splayed loosely on the bed. A sexy, pink lace bra you bought for this very occasion is on full display, making his eyes blow wide with lust. "Damn, princess. You wear that just for me?" He asks in a cocky tone, knowing full well the answer to that is a big, fat 'yes'.

"Mhm." You nod, biting your lip. You beckon him over with your finger, and he takes this as his cue to crawl across the bed like a prowling animal. "I wanted to wrap myself up all pretty for you, Eds. Even though I know you'll take it all off pretty quickly."

"Don't get me wrong, angel, I love the way you look in lingerie. You're absolutely gorgeous. But I enjoy what's underneath so much more, because it's you. Just you, baby, that's all I need." He says as he crouches over you now, his thick tresses hanging down on the sides of his face.

"Oh, then I guess you won't be needing the other present I got for you." You reply with a cheeky grin.

He scoffs, giving you a curious glance. "Hey, I didn't say that. What'd you get me?" He bites his lip, eager to know what your brilliant mind cooked up this time.

"Well...I guess you can have it, since I put in so much work to make it happen." You say in faux-defeat, reaching up to undo Eddie's shirt buttons as you speak. "I convinced Mr. Biggs to let us have a private screening of Heavy Metal after hours next Saturday. Just me and you, all alone, watching a silly, sexy movie together. Sound like fun?" You quirk an eyebrow, pulling the final button through its sewn loop.

"Sounds perfect, sweetheart. I look forward to it." He smirks, bringing his lips to yours in a thankful kiss. Your eyes slip closed, and you push the fabric of his shirt to shuck it from his shoulders. He tosses it away, and it lands somewhere nondescript on the floor. "How'd you know about that movie anyways?" Eddie asks, bringing a hand up to cup your breast as he waits for your answer.

"Well, I didn't...at first. I know you like those magazines, and I was asking Robin and Steve if there was anything similar in film form. Now, there's no VHS of it, apparently. But Robin said she'd been to a couple random screenings of it in Indianapolis before." You explain, gasping at Eddie's hand massaging your tit. He nods, wanting you to continue. "Then, I asked Milo if there was a copy laying around at The Hawk. He said it's one of his personal favorites, so I was in luck. All I had to do after that was promise Mr. Biggs that we would clean any mess we make, and lock up afterwards. And voila! Perfect anniversary present." You grin in satisfaction, moving to discard your own shirt. You awkwardly shuffle your arms, pulling the sleeves down to throw the garment away.

"I can't believe you went to so much trouble, just for me. You're the best girlfriend ever, you know that?" Eddie asks, cupping your cheek once you lay back down.

"Oh, I know. But it's only because you're an amazing boyfriend, too." You giggle, rolling your bodies over so you're on top. You're straddling his lap, and you can feel his stiff cock straining through the layers of fabric between you. You grind yourself against him, letting out a breathy moan at the friction between your legs. You're already so wet, and you can barely think straight. Eddie's hands move to your ass, massaging the flesh roughly through your slacks. "Fuck, Eddie." You whine, your head falling forward as you continue to roll your hips. He leads you to go harder in his grip, drawing more noises from you. The weed is taking full effect now, and you feel as though you're moving through molasses.

"You're so beautiful, angel. A perfect, moaning mess for me." Eddie coos lazily, barely keeping it together himself. He doesn't like to get high without you now, not since that first time at your father's funeral. He used to do it almost every day, trying to numb the loneliness he felt so strongly until he found you. It's something you get to share now, something you can use to enhance your closeness and intimacy.

"All for you, Eds. We're still wearing waaaaay too many clothes, though. I need to touch every last inch of you, feel your gorgeous body with my hands...and my mouth." You're surprised you can manage to be so coherent as a thick fog surrounds your mind.

"Does that mean you're gonna kiss my ass?" Eddie jokes, making you both burst out laughing.

"Maybe!" You cackle, letting yourself fall over him. The two of you continue to giggle like children as your mouths find each other again. You hum into a clumsy kiss, the laughter soon forgotten as you melt into one another. Eddie unclasps your bra, tossing it aside.

"Fuckin' gorgeous." He praises as he takes hold of your beautiful tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

"Oh, Eddie. That feels so good." You moan, breaking your mouth away from his. You lower your lips to kiss and suck his neck. He groans at the contact, pinching your sensitive buds a bit harder in response. "Jesus, everything shouldn't feel this fucking good. I can see why weed isn't legal, nobody would get anything done." You observe with a light laugh, reaching to open your pants to discard them. You undo the button, and slide the zipper down. You struggle to get them all the way off, unsure how you actually figure it out a moment later. You're left in nothing but a tiny thong that matches the bra you had on before.

"Damn, sweetheart. I've seen you like this at least a hundred times, but I swear each time always feels like the first." He says in a husky tone, licking his lips at how delicious you look now that you're pretty much naked.

"You always know exactly what to say to make me feel special, baby. I love you." You reply, blushing wildly at his words. He's quite the charmer, but nothing he says ever feels like a line, unless it's a genuine joke. You wonder every day how this is actually happening, how Eddie is truly yours and treats you like a queen. It all feels like a dream sometimes, but you're so grateful that it's real.

"I love you too, princess. Wanna help me with the rest of my clothes?" He asks with a kind smile.

"Don't mind if I do." You giggle, fiddling with his belt to get it open. You flick open the button and zip, yanking the pants down his legs. You remove his boxers afterwards, his dick smacking against his stomach before standing at attention. You take off your thong as well, leaving no barriers between you. You follow what your delayed mind demands, straddling his thighs as you lean down to kiss him again. Eddie's tongue slips into your mouth shortly after your lips meet. You want to take your time, to enjoy every single second of this.

Eddie breaks the kiss when he thinks of something that could enhance your experience even further. "Should we put on some music, sweetheart?" He asks, stroking your sides with his large hands. The metal of his rings drags cooly against your bare skin.

"Sure thing, Eds." You reply, understanding why he's asking. Having steady sound in the background can lead you through every touch and kiss and as the weed tantalizes your senses. You reach over to your bedside table, flicking on the radio. It just so happens to be set to the rock station from the last time you and Eddie listened to it, and the opening notes of "Dazed and Confused" by Led Zeppelin begin to fill the room.

"Mmm, perfect timing." Eddie chuckles, before rolling you both over onto your side. His lips meet yours again, following the echoing strums of guitar to roll his tongue against yours. You moan into his mouth, arousal spreading rapidly between your legs. His hand drags along your silhouette at the same time, making the skin of your shoulder, elbow, waist, stomach buzz. As Robert Plant begins to sing, Eddie wanders between your bodies to feel your slick folds.

"Eddie." You whimper, a shock of pleasure jolting through your body. Your pussy is very sensitive, and wetter than ever before. You can feel your juices dripping down your thighs and onto the blanket. You lift your leg to lay over his, allowing him better access. He grins at you, stroking your cunt in slow, exploring circles. "Feels so good, baby." You sigh as your heart rate picks up. The languid yet foreboding music intensifies every sensation, sending pleasure signals to your brain in rapid succession.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, angel." He speaks lowly, eyes glued to your face to watch your every reaction. "I love making you cum, watching all the pretty faces you make, hearing all your filthy noises. It's one of the most beautiful things in the world. You're such a good girl for me, my perfect little slut." He pushes two fingers into your pussy on his final word.

"Oh, fuck." You gasp, arching your back instinctively.

"God, you're fuckin' soaked, Y/N. Already making a mess, just for me." His cock throbs against your stomach, the slightest amount of friction making his head spin.

"Just for you, love. Shit, I feel like I'm dissolving or something." You observe dumbly, unable to keep your eyes open at how amazing this all is. It's overwhelming in the best possible way, you swear you could lose it any second now.

"You gonna cum for me, darling? I can tell you're already so close, makin' it hard for my fingers to move inside you." He's absolutely right, your walls have begun to flutter around him, threatening to strangle his digits altogether. You can't help it, everything just feels so good.

"Uh-huh. Keep going, Eds." You moan, needing him to push you over the edge. You wonder how he's able to stay so articulate, saying dirty things to you to spur you on. You can barely string two words together as your mind is mixed up by electric beaters with every swell of the music. Eddie does as you ask, even increasing his pace. He wasn't moving very fast to begin with, which only proves beyond a reasonable doubt, that what you're doing right now is a fantastic idea. "Can't believe I'm gonna cum when you've barely touched me. You sure there wasn't anything else in that joint?" You ask through a lustful whine.

"I promise there wasn't. I'd never give you something without you knowing, sweetheart." He says calmly, finding entertainment in your disbelief of your own reactions to the pot. His free hand takes hold of your tit, massaging the flesh to give you even more. You moan loudly at the sensation, arching your back again. Your abdomen brushes against his dick, making him groan. A streak of precum rubs onto your skin, the idea of Eddie marking you with his release pushing you over the edge.

"Oh, god! Eddie!" You cry out, losing all control you once had over your body. You convulse around his fingers, trapping them inside as fluids spill out of your pussy. It runs down either side of your thigh to soak through the top layer of your bedding. Your eyes roll back into your head as you let out truly unholy noises. Your orgasm works its way through you mercilessly, and all Eddie can do is watch every second unfold in slow motion. If he didn't know any better, he'd blow his load all over your stomach at the sight before him.

"That's my good girl." He praises, caressing your sweat-drenched face with the back of his hand. He pulls you into a kiss, setting you on fire again before you've had a real chance to cool off. He removes his fingers from your cunt, bringing them up to your mouths. He sticks them between you, allowing you both to lick the sweet nectar from the moisture-wrinkled flesh.

"Mmm." You moan simultaneously at the taste, frantically licking every last drop away. Your teeth and tongues clash against one another repeatedly, though neither of you care how clumsy you're being. You just want to keep touching, and kissing, and devouring each other. When the musky flavor of your release has gone, you push Eddie's chest to make him lie down. He bounces harshly on the bed from the force, smirking at how aggressive you've become. You straddle his lap like before, bringing your hand to his throat. You wrap your fingers around his neck, not yet pressing down.

"You gonna choke me, baby?" Eddie asks, absolutely loving the idea.

"Do you want me to?" You ask, smiling ear to ear at the concept. You've never done it before, you only hope he'll let you try. But even more than that, you want him to like it.

"I would love it, sweetheart. Go ahead, I know you're dying to try it." He bites his lip, waiting for you to follow through on your promise. You gently start to squeeze the sides of his thick neck, cutting off the blood flow ever so slightly. "Fuck. Harder." He begs, groaning as his head lightens at your touch. You do as he asks, overtaken by a dark thrill as you increase the pressure. He moans again, but it comes out a bit garbled from you choking him.

"Such a good boy for me, I think you deserve a reward." You say darkly, leaning to speak into his ear. "You wanna fuck me, Eddie?" Your hot breath flows against his skin, turning him on even further. You loosen your grip a bit so he can answer you.

"Yeah, I wanna be inside you so bad. You're so hot and wet, shit, I can feel you dripping all over me." He replies desperately, dying to have his dick plunge deep into your velvet insides.

"That's right, Eds. I just can't help myself, you make me feel so good." You let out an exaggerated whine, rolling your hips once across his torso. Your clit rubs against him, smearing a trail of your arousal on his stomach. "You want me to ride you, love?" You ask in that same seductive tone.

"Please. Let me fill you up, angel." He begs, you've got him wrapped around your little finger at this rate.

"You got it, babe." You briefly bite his earlobe, shifting your lower half downwards. You take Eddie's length in your hand now that you can reach, working him painfully slow.

"Shit, you're always such a cock-tease, Y/N." He breathes out with a grin as he tries not to cum. You frown at his words, wanting him to submit to you completely. You squeeze his throat again, harder than before. Another strained moan leaves his lips, and more of your juices trickle from your pussy at the sound.

"Naughty boy, you know better than to talk back. I'll fuck you when you've earned it." You say through gritted teeth. You stroke him faster, noticing his stomach already beginning to tense. "Gonna cum so soon, baby? You wanna make a mess all over me?" You question mockingly, aiming his tip towards your stomach as you continue to pump him. Eddie only manages to nod, your grip on his throat makes it impossible to speak. His eyes stare deep into yours, wide and doe-ish as his release takes over.

"Fuck." He barely squeaks the word out, his mouth falling open helplessly. His hips buck upwards, and his sticky load lands in hot spurts all over your tits and belly. It drips down sloppily, the white droplets gleaming in the light. His toes curl as he empties onto you, and his large hands bunch the blankets below in sweaty fists.

"Mmm, good boy." You grin in satisfaction. You let his throat and softening cock fall from your grasp, and you look down your body to see the evidence of his orgasm splattered all over you. You wipe up one of the streaks from your breast with your middle finger. You bring it up to your lips, accepting the entire length of it into your mouth. You moan at the taste, keeping your eyes on Eddie the entire time.

"Fuck, that was hot." He pants as his chest heaves, struggling to catch his breath.

"Sure was, baby. You wanna clean me up until you can go again?" You ask politely, slipping off his body to lay beside him.

"Of course, sweetheart. Trust me, I'm just getting started." Eddie chuckles, angling himself so his mouth can reach every bit of the sticky mess he left on you, while keeping his legs next to yours. He leans over your torso, dragging the flat of his tongue over each streak of his release to wipe them away. He licks one off your nipple, playfully biting the hardened bud afterwards.

"Fuck." You murmur. You follow his head traveling downwards while he cleans every last drop of cum off your body. It's such a filthy sight. Whimpers and moans leavE your lips at how warm his tongue feels against your skin. He keeps going, putting himself between your legs as he spreads them. It seems he's had an ulterior motive to doing as you commanded, secretly wanting to make you cum on his face. "You sneaky bastard." You laugh, rolling your eyes at his unrelenting sexual appetite.

"Don't pretend you aren't loving this, babydoll. Is it so terrible that I wanna please you?" He asks, teasing you while his hands grip your thighs.

"Not at all, Eds. Knock yourself out." You lay your arm under your head to prop it up, wanting to see everything he's about to do to you. The song changes, a glam rock tune that you recognize instantly. "Lady Grinning Soul" by David Bowie, naturally. It appears whoever is in charge of acting as local radio deejay tonight, has taken part in the same substance as you and your boyfriend. They may or may not be a bit horny, as well. Eddie's eyes meet yours, and he brings his mouth to your drenched pussy to lick a small stripe along your slit. "God, that feels amazing, baby." You sigh, legs twitching at the overwhelming sensation.

"You're so unbelievably pretty like this, sweetheart. I don't think I'll ever get enough of you." Eddie speaks sweetly. He takes his time, pressing wet kisses to your inner thighs at random intervals between slow strokes along your clit and entrance. He's playing around with you, but in a most pleasurable way. It's far from teasing, as everything he does has an intense impact on you. He's savoring it, savoring you. The saccharine tang of your arousal coats his lips, his teeth, even his throat as he swallows every last drop. You're an ever-flowing fountain to him, your offerings slaking his thirst for love and companionship. "You're everything to me, Y/N." He says earnestly.

"You're everything to me, too, baby. You doin' okay down there?" You ask in kind concern, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah! Yeah...I'm fine. I just一" His breath catches, almost like he might cry. He shakes his head, keeping the tears at bay. "You're just perfect, that's all." He says with a smile, rubbing your thighs to ground himself. This never happens when he's high, but he can't shake the dialed-up emotions swarming over him. It certainly doesn't help that his brain is twisting and turning, due to certain mind-altering drugs you both smoked earlier.

Eddie's been on his own in almost every way for as long as he can remember. Sure, he has the club, and Wayne. But when he's not leading a campaign, or his uncle is sleeping or away at work, he's left alone with his own thoughts. The dreadful, awful thoughts of not being good enough, of being a worthless asshole who doesn't deserve love or happiness. Booze and drugs can only do much to block said thoughts out, often leaving him immobile in bed for hours on end. Staring at the wall or ceiling, his heart aching in his chest for something more. He never once thought he'd be so lucky to have someone like you in his life.

"You're perfect, too, baby. C'mere." You beckon him to you, wanting to hold him close. You can see it in his eyes that he's feeling so many things at once. He crawls back up the bed, laying on his side next to you. You mirror his position, his face just a couple inches from yours. You watch his troubled expression, knowing he's holding back from you. "Tell me what you're thinking." You coo, cupping his cheek.

"I-I didn't think I'd meet anyone like you, princess." He stutters at the thought, recalling how unpleasant life is without you in it. "I didn't think I'd meet anyone at all, really. At least, nobody worth...sticking around for." His eyebrows knit oddly at those two words in particular, his voice dipping to an ashamed whisper. 'Sticking around'...

"What do you mean? Like...staying in Hawkins?" You ask, confused as to why he'd say it like that. Nobody thinks all that highly of this sleepy little town, most plan to get out by the age of five, and give up by the time they're thirty.

"No." Eddie replies, his mouth staying open as if he's going to say something else. He closes it again, averting his eyes. He shakes his head, he can't possibly tell you this. You'll hear him say this terrible thing, and you won't love him anymore. "Nevermind, it's not a big deal." He says shakily, wanting to drop the subject.

You're watching closely as fear, almost panic spreads over his features. He's breathing unevenly, his heart pounding in his chest. He can't possibly be saying what you think he's saying. But given his behavior, you suspect the worst. Regardless of what it is, you intend to stay by his side and support him. You take his hands in yours, reeling him back to you before he disappears inside his head. "Eddie, please tell me. I'm here for you, you know that. Don't hide this from me, you promised we wouldn't do that." You say as calmly as you can, not wanting to scare him away. His pupils flick to yours again, finding your empathetic face. This makes him relax a little, and he nods. He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I'm sure it's no surprise that I've always been...kind of a loner, Y/N. I'm not a popular person, friends are few and far between for me. I dunno if Dustin told you, but after we graduated, and my bandmates moved away, I've been on my own a lot." He pauses, feeling the sting of tears pricking his eyes. "And, uh...that's not great for me. I don't think very highly of myself, quite the opposite, actually. I won't bother you with the details, I'm sure you can imagine." He chuckles dryly, clearing his throat after. "So, being alone leads to lots of...dark thoughts. Thoughts I've never shared with anyone. Not Wayne, not the kids in Hellfire, nobody." He sniffles, a couple salty drops rolling down his cheeks.

"Would it help if you told me, Eddie?" You ask, offering every ounce of comfort you can give.

"I have a feeling you already know what I'm getting at, sweetheart." He says, his tone stiff and unwilling. He doesn't want to say the words aloud. He's never dared to do such a thing. It's like they're forbidden to fall from his lips.

"I think I can hazard a guess, love. And I'm sorry you've felt that way. No one should have to go through that. Especially not alone." You squeeze his hands and wonder if you should ask the question bubbling inside your head. You don't want to push him too far, but it's only natural to be curious. "Did you ever try to一"

"No." He cuts you off, shaking his head emphatically. "I couldn't do that to Wayne, but I thought about it all the time. How I'd do it, when, where, what my 'last meal' would be, of all things." He explains, his eyes squinting shut as more tears fall. He opens them again, red and glassy as they gauge your every reaction to his words. You keep yourself calm on the outside, but internally your heart is cracking at the seams, breaking for the crying man before you. You've known about his rough childhood, and the bullying through school and afterwards. But the idea of Eddie being suicidal, it just makes everything else all the more harrowing.

"Do you still think about doing it, Eddie?" You ask, willing to accept whatever the truth might be. You'd love to think that being present in his life has helped him feel better. And you're sure it has, to some extent. But it's unfair and unreasonable to think he would be one-hundred-percent 'normal' all because he started seeing you. You of all people know that love can't magically make your problems go away.

"I'm not gonna lie, Y/N. I still do sometimes, but a lot less than I used to. You've helped me feel so much better than before, I promise you that. But I'm fucked up, angel. I'm not sure it'll ever fully go away." He sighs, hoping he hasn't disappointed you. "Do you think less of me? I understand if you do." His thumbs rub mindlessly over your knuckles, steadying his state of mind while he waits for you to answer.

"Of course not, Eddie. I would never judge you for something that isn't your fault. I love you so much, baby. And nothing is ever gonna change that, okay?" You give him a gentle kiss, bringing a hand up to stroke his hair. He softens against you, his tense body loosening to accept your affection. You can feel more of his tears raining onto your skin, and you just let him work through everything he's feeling, kissing him tenderly and repeatedly through it all.

"I love you too, Y/N. Thank you for being here for me." He wipes his eyes, letting out another deep sigh.

"Any time, darling." You flash him a kind smile.

"Fuck, sorry for ruining the mood." He groans, flopping onto his back in annoyance with himself.

"It's okay. We've fucked many times before, and I'm sure there'll be many more opportunities after today. But for now, we can put some pj's on and watch a movie if you want. We can eat some cake, cuddle with Arwen on the couch." You suggest, sitting up in bed.

"That sounds perfect, babydoll." Eddie replies, getting off the mattress to get some pajamas from his bag. You do the same at your dresser, the sound of which disturbs Arwen's nap.

"Mew!" She cries as her eyes open to blink at you.

"Aw, poor little baby. I'm sorry we woke you up, but we're gonna cuddle and have cake." Eddie coos at the kitten, slipping on his lounge pants and an old band tee before scooping her up into his arms.

"You're so sweet with her, it's fuckin' adorable." You giggle, watching the cat's eyes close blissfully while Eddie scratches behind her ears.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Further evidence that I'm a big softy. I can't believe I talked like that in front of everyone at the party." He laughs, rolling his eyes. He has a reputation to uphold, and here you are making him so vulnerable, even in public.

"Yes, you are a very soft man." You start, making his head whip to you in offense. You continue, explaining what you mean. "But that's not a bad thing, Eddie. It just means you're a good person. You're loving, kind, and understanding. Those are things most people struggle with, and it comes to you naturally." He nods in response, realizing you were only giving him a compliment.

"It's nice that you think so, sweetheart. I don't always feel like a good person." He says sadly, pulling his eyes away again.

"I've found that the best people typically put themselves under a lot of scrutiny. Any little misstep, and it makes them question everything. But that's good, because bad people never really think about their actions, or how they affect others. People like that go through life justifying every move they make, as opposed to weighing the consequences." You explain, trying to get through to him that he's not as bad as everyone says he is.

"You know, you'd be great at public speaking, baby. You're very convincing, and smart as hell. I could listen to you talk all day long." He smiles, turning this conversation back onto you. You can tell he still doesn't quite believe what you've told him, but self-esteem can't be rebuilt in a day.

"Thanks, Eds. But I don't think my anxiety would allow such a thing." You giggle, reaching for his hand to walk down the hall together. He gives it to you, holding Arwen up in the other to go sit on the couch. You cut two more slices from the cake, bringing the plates over while Eddie picks out a movie. You're both still a bit stoned, but you sense you're on the precipice of the come-down. You plop down beside the kitten, who's waiting for you and Eddie to shower her with attention. "Hey there, furry little thing. You're just too cute, it makes my heart wanna explode." You say to her, in that same silly voice only meant to be heard by her fuzzy ears.

"Mew." She replies, her tiny mouth opening briefly to let the sound out.

"She's very talkative. Have you noticed that?" You ask Eddie as he pulls his choice of VHS from the drawer below the TV.

"Yeah, she's got a bit of an attitude, too. I imagine she's very smart, despite being just a baby. How's this one? I figure we could use something comforting tonight. It's been a long day." He says, showing you the worn paper cover of Labyrinth.

"That's perfect, Eds. Pop it in and get over here." You smirk, patting the spot next to you on the couch. He slips the tape into the VCR, hopping enthusiastically onto the sofa once it begins to play. You hand him his slice of cake, and the two of you dig in as the movie starts.

About halfway through the film, there's a knock at the door. "Ms. Henderson, this is Chief Powell. Can you open up, please?" You hear the man speaking sternly on the other side of the door. You and Eddie look at each other, wondering what he wants. He could be here for Eddie regarding the fight with Jason, or if something happened to your mom. You swallow hard and pause the movie. You go to the door, opening it slowly.

"What's this about, Chief?" You ask, keeping the door mostly shut to block Eddie from his view.

"It's nothing serious, Y/N. We've got your mother in the back of the squad car. She tried to drive home drunk from the Hideaway. Jack, the owner, called us to stop her." The chief explains, giving you a comforting look. He knows you're worried about Eddie's standing in the Carver case, thankfully it hasn't become an issue. Not yet, anyway.

"Oh my god. Is she okay?" You ask, looking around him to see Mom slumped in the backseat. The red and blue lights flash on the roof, shining brightly through the darkness of the night.

"She's fine, and we'll have her car towed back here. But um... her license has been suspended. She managed to drive a few blocks before we stopped her, and she almost hit a couple teenagers crossing the street." He sighs, regretting every word coming out of his mouth. Claudia hasn't been this bad since George left, he can't imagine why she'd do something so stupid.

"Jesus christ. Well, I'm sorry she caused you trouble, Chief. I'll get her in bed, and I can drive her to work until the suspension is up." You reply, subtly rolling your eyes. You're absolutely pissed. What the hell was she thinking? She could've killed someone, or got herself put in the hospital or a body bag. And then where would that leave you? Or Dustin? It's also really fucking rich that she had the nerve to yell at you only hours ago about how irresponsible you are, and then she goes and does this? What a fucking hypocrite.

"It's no trouble at all, Y/N. I'm just glad nobody got hurt. We'll bring her inside for you." Powell says calmly, reading the anger all over your face.

"Great." You say flatly, opening the door all the way so the officers can escort your mother inside. You sit on the couch beside Eddie, shaking your head with pursed lips.

"Is everything okay?" Eddie asks, putting a hand on your thigh.

"No. Mom got wasted and tried to drive home. She almost killed someone before she got pulled over." You state, avoiding his eyes.

"Shit. I'm sorry, Y/N." He tries to relax you, but you can't stop the boiling rage.

"Don't be. If anyone should be sorry, it's her. She could've gotten hurt, or died! And then me and Dustin would have NO parents!" Your volume rises, almost shouting. Dustin's bedroom door opens at the sound, and he comes down the hall to see what the ruckus is about.

"What's going on?" He asks while rubbing his eyes. Fuck, he was sleeping. And now you're shouting and Mom is drunk off her ass with a DUI.

"Shit, Dusty. I'm sorry I woke you. Mom's drunk, that's all you need to know right now." You say as Powell and Callahan bring Mom inside the house. She's barely conscious, more drunk than you've ever seen a human be before. "Are you sure she doesn't have alcohol poisoning? She looks awful." You ask the cops, wondering if they got her any medical attention.

"We had her checked out, they said she should be fine. Just keep an eye on her, I'm sure she'll have one helluva hangover tomorrow." Powell replies, struggling to keep a hold on Mom. Her eyes flutter open a moment, and she looks at you.

"I'm sorry." She slurs, her face scrunching into what looks like sadness and regret. That is, until she vomits onto the carpet. It lands a few feet away from you, stinking of booze and chocolate cake.

"Jesus christ." Callahan exclaims, adopting a look of utter disgust.

"’Kay, safe to say I'm not hungry anymore." Eddie grimaces, putting his half-empty plate down.

"Maybe a stop to the bathroom would be beneficial." Powell suggests, looking to you as a way to ask where it is.

"Yeah. It's just down the hall, the last door on the left." You say, glancing at Mom in pity. A dribble of vomit sits on her bottom lip, a translucent dark brown. The officers take her down the hall, and you hear more vomiting that hopefully all lands into the toilet this time. You sigh, letting your head fall into your hands. "Great, now I gotta clean up puke tonight. That's the last thing I wanted to do." You groan, your own stomach turning at the acrid smell filling the room.

"We’ll help out, sweetheart." Eddie offers, rubbing your back with his hand.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have to do that all by yourself." Dustin chimes in, heading into the kitchen for the cleaning supplies.

"Thanks, guys. Let's take care of it before it soaks in too far." You get off the couch, slipping on some rubber gloves your brother hands to you. First, you soak up as much fluid with paper towels and toss them away. Next, pour carpet cleaner on the spot, letting it foam up for a few minutes. Then comes the scrubbing, you scrub the fibers of the carpet until you're sure there's no barf left clinging to them. After that, you wipe away any excess cleanser and let it dry. Easy peasy.

"Okay, safe to say I never wanna do that again." Dustin says as the three of you thoroughly wash your hands.

"Same here." You and Eddie reply at the same time. It really was far from pleasant, the smell alone made you wanna add to the mess. Thankfully you held it together, save for a couple compulsive gags. The officers are finally leading Mom to her room once you finish, she's been puking this entire time. She must have racked up quite the tab at the Hideaway.

"Shit, you guys work fast. Your mom must be thankful to have such helpful kids." Powell comments when he returns to the livingroom to find the mess already cleaned away.

"You'd think so, right?" You retort, still quite peeved at needing to do so at all.

"Right." He clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. "We'll get out of your hair. Just make sure she has water and aspirin, and a wastebasket by the bed wouldn't hurt." He gives a weak smile, turning to leave.

"Will do, Chief. Thanks for bringing her home." You follow behind him, closing the door once he steps outside. "I am sooooo gonna tear her a new one tomorrow. What the fuck was she thinking?!"

"I don't think she was, angel." Eddie says quietly.

"No shit! God, I'm still high. I shouldn't be this angry!" You keep shouting, pacing around the floor wildly.

"I think you're being a bit hard on her, Y/N." Dustin says, coming to Mom's defense.

"No, I'm not! You wanna know what happened? She got absolutely wasted because of our stupid fight! And then she tried to DRIVE HOME! She almost hit some teenagers, she could have killed them! Do you understand how pissed she'd be if some drunk asshole almost hit one of us in the road like that? She'd be calling for their head and you know it! So now, her license is suspended, and I'll have to drive her to work like she's a goddamn child!" You're practically screaming now, going red in the face as you try to get Dustin to understand the gravity of the situation.

"I can drive her if一" He replies, focusing on the wrong thing. As if you actually think having to cart her around is the issue.

"That's not the damn point, Dusty! Did you not hear what I just said?" You question in disbelief. Neither of them have much to say about Mom's reckless behavior, more so they seem to want to justify it. And you'll hear absolutely none of it. "Ugh, whatever. I'm going to bed. Eddie, you can come if you want and bring the cat. Or not, I'm too pissed off to give a shit." You say with a resigned laugh, your arms clapping at your sides as you give up. You storm off down the hall, slamming the door to your room shut as hard as you can.

You flick off your bedroom light, and flop face first onto your bed. You press your head into the pillows, screaming into their fluffy bodies to muffle the sound of your frustration. You yank the blankets over your head, hiding away from the world. You don't care if Eddie comes to bed, he honestly might stay on the couch with how angry you've become. Maybe that's best, you don't feel all that deserving of comfort or cuddling at the moment. You know you're not wrong in your sentiment towards Mom's actions, but you definitely flew off the handle a bit. You groan loudly, rolling over to stop suffocating on the pillows. You face the window, letting your eyes peek out to look at the moon outside. The glowing orb in the sky gazes down upon you, the craters on its surface seemingly forming a look of shame and disappointment in your direction.

"Y/N?" Eddie says, quietly opening the door to your room. He tiptoes in with Arwen, hoping you're still awake. He feels awful for coming off like he wasn't supporting you. Of course he thinks Claudia was being an absolute idiot. But he doesn't think it's his place to say anything about it. He's certainly no angel. Who is he to judge someone else for their mistakes?

"Yes." You whisper, unable to say anything else.

"I'm sorry, love." He replies, crawling into bed with you. You turn to look at him, finding Arwen laying in the small space between you.

"For what? You're not the one with a DUI." You sigh, trying to stop a bout of tears.

"I know, baby. But I shouldn't have made it seem like I don't care that your mom was being reckless. Of course I do. Claudia's like a mother to me, despite the fact that she doesn't seem to like me much anymore." He lets out a light laugh at that. "And I know you love her so much, and you're worried about her. I'd be just as pissed as you if the roles were reversed." He scoots closer, putting the kitten into a warm cuddle sandwich. She mews happily at the coziness, nuzzling her head against you.

"It's fine. I didn't exactly let you have a chance to speak. She just一 I can't believe she'd do that. Like...what the fuck?" You say, looking to Eddie for the answer. That's the thing, more than anything else, you're utterly stumped as to why she would do this. Given the fight earlier today, and the constant lectures she's bestowed upon you and Dustin about the dangers of drinking and other serious topics. She rejected her own advice, and did something that has left you dumbfounded.

"I dunno, princess. I wish I had an answer for you. I guess you'll just have to ask her tomorrow." Eddie says sadly, tonight was supposed to be your night. Just the two of you, enjoying a nice time together. But no, instead it became about him telling you more of his deep dark secrets, and your mother throwing up all over the carpet. "You gonna be okay, love?" He asks, taking your hand in his.

"I'll give it my best shot, Eds. At least I have you here." You reply, giving him a chaste kiss. Arwen squeals in protest, annoyed at you squishing her. "Sorry, little one. I just had to kiss your daddy goodnight." You pat her head to put her at ease, and she lies down, placing herself into your touch. She purrs against your palm, settling in to go to sleep.

"Take it easy on your mother, Arwen. She's had a very long day." Eddie says to the cat, smiling at how silly the idea of talking to an animal like it's a person is. It feels right, though, natural. Arwen is essentially your child, and you both want to love and take care of her the best you can. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you." He speaks to you now, taking your free hand to hold.

"Goodnight, Eds. I love you, too." You reply, closing your eyes shortly after. You really hope tomorrow pans out better than today did, but would it really be your life if things didn't go sideways?

To be continued...

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