#there's just nothing more sexy than a man in a black cloak holding a knife to your neck

[greensaplinggrace]

What Is There To Celebrate About the Darkling? (Part 3)

1 2 3 4

His shadow powers are so badass, literally how could you not celebrate him for that alone?

Villain wears black trope REPRESENT.

The way his cloak billows dramatically in episode one before Alina enters the Fold.

The way his cloak billows in general.

His little face in the background after his and Alina’s first kiss as he tries to compose himself.

Him knocking on the table in episode five when he gets back to see Alina. My mans was so hopeful that he’d finally get to third base with the love of his life. RIP.

Large hands. Very tall.

The way he literally cannot tear his eyes away from Alina during the entire scene where Alina dresses him and they have their first kiss.

The softest looking hair I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe Alina got to run her hands through it and she still left him.

How he urgently looks around for Alina outside after she leaves in episode five, right before he confronts Baghra. He’s very frantic and panting and clearly concerned and not being subtle at all about his emotions.

Also the way he walks when he’s leaving Baghra, with his hands stuck out to the side and his fists clenching and unclenching as his form grows smaller in the distance. He looks like a tiny penguin waddling away.

Son’s evil dastardly bastard plans once again thwarted by own mother. Can you imagine living for an eternity and never being free of your parents? Fuck all that other shit, no wonder he went darkside.

“She is all that matters now, not me. She is the future. She is the one-” SIMP

His little smile before he goes to answer the door after they kiss. The way his hold on her lingers as if he can’t bear to part with her. Forehead touch. They are giggling.

The way he runs back in for another kiss. This man is so gone it’s not even funny.

He calls her to him in the books and she spends the entire time agonizing over how upset he’s going to be. The man literally just wants to ask her about her day.

Defends Alina to Baghra after he witnesses her getting harassed. Defends himself to Baghra after she treats him like shit. Love that for him.

“I made something.” / “Let me make a mark on this world before I leave it.” / “It’s my own name I’m afraid of forgetting.” / “He understood then. The Grisha lived as shadows, passing over the surface of the world, touching nothing. Forced to change their shapes and hide in corners, driven by fear as shadows were driven by the sun. No safe place. No haven.” / “There will be, he promised the darkness, words written upon his heart. I will make one.”

Him offering Alina his kvas. They drink from the same glass.

Sasha “no thoughts head empty only Alina” Morozova having to look away and calm himself when Alina licks her lips after drinking his kvas.

Literally his entire confrontation with Kaz. Absolutely hilarious. Local centuries old Black Heretic gets bested by a teenager with one (1) flash grenade.

“I never intended for it to be the blight it’s become.” - Genuine regret. A+++.

Asks Mal what Alina’s favorite flowers are and then gives them to her. Was it manipulative? Yes. Was it awful? Absolutely. Was it the funniest and smoothest shit I’ve ever seen? 100%. I laughed my ass off.

Alina: *enters the fete dressed in the black kefta* *Darkling.exe has stopped working*

This man takes one look at her lack of guards and goes: what’s more important than how beautiful the wifey looks? her safety. *protective bf mode initiated*

He admires how pretty he appears in the mirror of his room with absolutely zero shame and 100% pride. We stan a vain icon in this house💕. Also the mirror is in front of the bed?!?! 👀👀👀

His knife ring.

“You looked like you needed saving,” as fire plays across his features and he looks at Alina with an expression that makes my soul want to splinter into pieces. The implications, the pain.

Will display his complete and utter adoration for Alina in front of the entire Court including the King and Queen despite the fact that that is the worst thing he could possibly do in the political environment.

“No ordinary tracker. No ordinary girl. Orphans of Keramzin reunited. AdOrAbLe.” - How do you say you have issues without saying you have issues?

The way he eclipses Alina when he’s stepping down from the dais. The inherent romantic symbolism of the eclipse and what that means for him.

Him getting excited about the stag to the point where he’s eagerly rummaging through the maps on his table and urgently asking Mal tons of questions.

The five second delay in his thoughts as he processes that Mal isn’t cooperating. Poor guy really thought that everything was finally coming up Sasha for once.

He constantly uplifts Alina after Baghra’s emotional abuse. He constantly helps her with her self esteem and reassures her that she’s doing well and that she just needs more time.

“Yeah I don’t know what Baghra’s summoning ability is,” he said, like a liar.

Even after Baghra suggests that Alina left he doesn’t believe it. He has to hear it from Kaz after searching for ages before he finally begins to believe it.

“You smuggle Grisha out of MY PALACE!”

Titty grab during the kiss scene.

He lifts her up onto the table!!

Local whipped dark overlord gets excited that Fedyor has found Alina and has to suffer through the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick fool when he learns it’s just about Nina.

His relationship with Nikolai.

The fact that Alina’s scarf blows past him before they even meet.

The way he nods with such an understanding expression when the Conductor is lying his ass off as if he sympathizes with everything the other man is saying and isn’t secretly planning his elaborate murder.

Puppy dog eyes all the time.

Every time his smile is forced and ingenuine and he looks like he’s about to stab someone.

Every time his smile is genuine and he looks super soft and loving.

“You have no chance, ShAdoW mAn.” Literally how is he ever going to recover from this.

His hands motions when he summons. I just think they’re neat.

He kills the Conductor. Hated that guy. And he looked sexy as fuck doing it.

He hates the Druskelle, he hates the Ravkan monarchy. I can relate.

He’s NOT a bootlicker, unlike some.

Dad mode gets activated when David raises his hand. Aleksander just goes along with it like an exasperated father.

Ben Barnes nose scronch.

He begs for Luda’s life.

“Merzost feeds on us. I forbid it!” two seconds later *frantic rummaging through notes on the merzost* *reading the Forbidden Knowledge™ without any hesitation* *Immediate Disaster Occurs*

“Mom look what I made!” “Your art is atrocious and you’re no longer my son.”

His history was written by the victors. The tale of the Black Heretic is straight up propaganda by the corrupt monarchy.

Immortal old man caught in a young adult love triangle: I read your letters. Malyen “what the fuck is happening on this here day” Oretsev: ??!?!?!!! who even are you??

Aleksander admitting he needs Alina.

Darklina hand holds.

He did not have to make that episode eight hand-hold on the skiff so sensual but he did it anyways.

The way he hides under his cloak like a turtle when Jesper shoots at him.

He looks so awkward and isolated at the fete surrounded by all of those colorful nobles.

He’s always ready to murder a bitch and honestly I respect that.

Would kill for his gf.

That entire scene where he kisses Alina in the snow in the books like the most awkward motherfucker and then goes “wtf just happened?! Darkling out” before fleeing the scene of the Emotion.

He’s eternally confused by his feelings for Alina and it’s hilarious.

“Looking for trouble, and if I cannot find it I will create it.”

He’s basically just a moth attracted to a fatal light. RIP.

The way he throws open double doors like a man on a mission.

“Follow.”

He’s utterly precious and I would die for him. 🖤

[kenzieam]

Regret - Chapter 2 (Eric X Fox)

Rating: M (swearing, violence, smut - everything you’ve come to expect from me :* )

Genre: Drama/Angst

****Trigger Warnings - Sexual Abuse, Domestic Violence, Child Peril****

Thanks everyone for the re-blogs and support!!! IT IS SO AWESOME!!!

@emmysrandomthoughts @beautifulramblingbrains @iammarylastar @tigpooh67 @bookwarm85 @elaacreditava @badassbaker @captstefanbrandt  @treeleaf  @beltz2016 @lilu46  @girlwith100names @gaia25 @readsalot73 @slayer0507 @stone-met @lostinthebeans @lauraaan182 @girlslovestorys @tonyt1995 @lacy-love @fuckthatfeeling  @sparklemichele @vitaevandal @jojogoo65 @micolegg @frecklefaceb @jaihardy  @bookgirlthings @queenara4  @bluelassbird @mom2reesie @pathybo @letmagichappen @littlesouthernrebel @shaunarcanine @equalstrashflavoredtrash @sterek-foreverandever

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************TRIGGER WARNING - SEXUAL ABUSE, RAPE, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE***                                                        ****************************************************************************************************

Fox’s blood ran cold. Oh hell no. She’d put herself in this situation with Ethan, but keep her son out of this. Wordlessly, she launched herself at Ethan, maternal rage and protection racing white hot through her. But Ethan was cunning as well as smart and was anticipating her violent reaction, had deliberately stoked it. His hand closed around her throat as they crashed to the floor and he twisted their bodies, pinning Fox beneath him. Ethan, two years Eric’s senior and four years Fox’s, had excelled in his initiation year by being unparalleled at submission holds and anticipating his prey’s moves. He hadn’t goaded Fox without this exact plan in mind. In their nearly four years together there were still parts of his reptilian mind Fox had not seen, had no idea even existed.

Fox froze when she felt the blade of the knife bite ever so gently into her throat. Her eyes locked on Ethan’s, her chest heaved with a chaos of swirling emotions: shock, rage, dawning horror and genuine fear, the man gazing coolly down at her was one she’d never seen before.

“Are you listening now?” He continued with a conversational tone, even more out of place now, with their current positions. His free hand squeezed Fox’s breast and she slapped at it. The knife bit deeper and Fox froze, realizing with fresh horror what was about to happen. She’d given her body freely to this man’s younger brother, now he was going to take it back by force.

“Don’t move sweeting, don’t force me to demonstrate my knife skills. Now,” he yanked hard at her shirt, tearing it apart, “this is mine, no one else’s. And you will give it to me whenever I want it.”

“Ethan, no-”

“You were asking for it honey, now be a good little girl and lay still for me.” He flexed his grip on the blade just enough to make it move ever so slightly against Fox’s throat, and she felt a trickle of blood.

Fox’s mind raced as she scanned her limited options. The knife pressed to her throat and the fresh trickle of blood she felt on her skin had chased away any doubts she had about Ethan’s seriousness. He was willing to kill his own son to punish her, he was definitely going to take what he wanted from her right now. The knife in his hand was razor sharp and despite his nerdy appearance, he’d always maintained his Dauntless training. Fox had underestimated him today, and she was trapped, literally. His reflexes were sharp, and Fox knew with certainty that he would be able to slash her throat before she was able to twist out from underneath him. He had won this battle, Fox had to look ahead to the upcoming war.

Ethan’s lustful grunt grated on Fox’s ears, it was nothing like the sexy, mind-blowing sounds his younger brother made. His hand tore her boyshorts away, and she lay naked and exposed beneath him, Fox fought a shiver of revulsion as his hand trailed away from her breast to pull at his belt. She set her jaw, blinking away tears, closing her ears to her son’s wails and her eyes to the sight of her husband rising above her, his jeans pushed down his hips. A tear trickled down her cheek as he shoved inside her. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Fox sat up straight, stretching her back. In the week since Ethan’s attack, Fox had done her utmost to avoid Eric, he had been in meetings all week, but that wouldn‘t last. Her mind raced endlessly, turning over rock after rock searching for a solution, but few options were feasible, let alone palatable. She knew she had to avoid seeing Eric as long as possible, at least until her neck healed, if not longer. Eric had a sharp eye, even after her cut healed he would know something was wrong, Fox was chronically unable to keep her emotions off her face around him, he could read her like a book. And Fox knew that if Eric figured out what happened, he would kill Ethan, would lose control, hunt his own brother down and violently snuff out his life.

Fox carefully touched the bandage on her throat. As Ethan had raped her, as he’d forced himself inside her, he’d kept the knife at her throat, and, when he came his hand had slipped, biting deeper into Fox’s throat. As he’d arched above her, groaning in orgasm, his hips snapping against hers, forcing his seed inside his unwilling lover, Fox had felt a brief moment of mortality. Fuck, she was going to die here, right now, raped by a pig and with her throat cut like an animal. But his hand had stilled and he’d collapsed on top of her, muscles trembling and she’d felt the blade pull away.

The doctor on duty at the infirmary had just spent the last hour breaking apart fight after fight between two drunken assholes in his care who were still arguing over a woman, who’d no doubt already gone home with someone else and had replaced the stitches they had torn out of each other three times already. He’d accepted Ethan’s lie about Fox’s wound with a tired nod, a black eye already darkening his face. Seven stitches, first blood.

“Okay Tanner,” Fox returned to the present, addressing the man laying on the table in front of her, “we’ve been here before, you know how to care for this new tattoo, right?”

The black-haired man nodded and gifted her with a grin. His eyes flicked briefly to her bandage. “You cut yourself shaving?” His tone was light, but there was a deeper question attached.

Fox shook her head and grinned. “Nah, never take the dare to stand in front of the target, no matter how drunk you are.”

It was a weak excuse and Fox knew it, but Tanner nodded nonetheless. This was Fox Coulter in front of him, the dominant female in her initiation year, there was no way she was being manhandled by anyone. Definitely not by her husband, Ethan was a nice guy, refined and smart; nothing like his younger brother Eric, known throughout Dauntless as not only it’s youngest leader, but it’s most ill-tempered.

Fox sagged on her stool after Tanner left. She’d seen that in his eyes, she knew how the compound viewed Ethan, he was the good brother, an Erudite genius who was humble enough to mingle with the savages, head and shoulders above his younger brother, who was cold and arrogant and volatile. Few, if anyone would believe the truth; that behind closed doors Ethan was capable of being a coldly cynical jerk, arrogant and selfish. He played a good game, and was always careful to project respectability and professionalism. Those few times his temper had betrayed him on the job, his normally spotless reputation had given him the benefit of the doubt, had gifted him with an invisibility cloak.

Eric was the ‘bad’ brother, the troubled one. Moody and cruel, he tormented his initiates and swaggered through Dauntless like King Shit. Only with Fox, only with Remy, only alone with them did the true Eric appear, the side he could no longer show freely; because his reputation was so tied to the idea of him, no one would believe he was genuine. The true Eric was kind and gentle, loyal to a fault. His circle of trust was so small that no one else but Fox and her son fit in it, and it hurt Fox endlessly to hear him dismissed throughout the compound as ‘an asshole’, or ‘that dick, he should take lessons from his brother’. Why he had decided to project such a contrast was anyone’s guess, and Eric himself had never had an answer for her when she’d asked, so she’d dropped it, accepted him because she knew the truth, the truth about both Coulter brothers.

It hadn’t always been like this. Fox’s thoughts wandered as she cleaned her tattooing equipment, her motions practiced and automatic. When Fox had transferred from Amity to the warrior faction she too had been deceived by appearances, had been charmed right away by the elder brother, wary immediately of the younger. Eric had been her trainer, and a hard-driving one at that. Fox was never hung over the chasm personally, but she had witnessed two in her class cling desperately to the walkway, and another outright quitting, choosing a factionless life to death on the rocks. Ethan had started sniffing around right away, still in the first stage of initiation, and Fox had been naive, starved for love and a father figure, willing to overlook more than what was healthy because she hadn’t known any better. There had always been a slight edge to Ethan, a hint of manipulation with Fox, but he loved her, right? She had never witnessed depravity to such a level as she had seen this last time, and she still reeled from the shock of realizing that he was capable of such acts, had successfully hidden it from her this long.

Fox had become pregnant not long after graduation, and had decided on a career of tattoo artist, transferring to a trainer during the initiation cycle. Her life with Ethan had never been completely smooth, either before or after the wedding, but everyone had told her how lucky she was to be with him, how he was such a catch, and such a stand-up gentleman to ask Fox to marry him so soon after meeting, since she now carried his child. That rumour had rode her for awhile, everyone saying she’d ‘trapped’ Ethan into marriage by becoming pregnant. She hadn’t trapped him really, she had panicked at the thought of becoming a mother so soon, but Ethan had seemed to take it all in stride, smiling at her indulgently when she’d confessed to her new condition.

It was during her pregnancy that she’d started to see Eric more. She’d avoided him like the plague since initiation, interacting with him only when necessary, and only about upcoming initiation training matters, but Ethan was finding himself gone from Dauntless more and more often, and he’d asked his little brother to check in on her. At first it had been stilted and awkward between them, his visits short, their conversations shorter. Eric had made it perfectly clear right from the start that he was only doing this because Ethan had asked him, and for awhile they had endured near silent meetings, Fox nervously darting through Ethan’s apartment, not yet used to a hostess role and Eric following stonily behind, asking her monotone questions and sounding like he was reading from a list from the ‘unwilling baby-sitter’ handbook.

Gradually however, they had started to thaw around each other. Fox got used to Eric’s abrupt manner and long silences, and he in turn seem to relax around her, lighten up. Fox was surprised to discover that, not only did Eric possess an actual sense of humour, but, underneath his grumpy exterior he was startlingly considerate towards her, bringing her foods he’d learned were her favourites, books he’d found out she’d like to read. He paid attention to her, and not in the negative or domineering way she was so used to. Ethan’s attentions had started to skew towards overbearing and paternal, often treating Fox like a disobedient and stupid teenager.

Although he’d been a hard trainer, and then an awkward pseudo-babysitter, Eric had never been condescending or autocratic towards her, and it was balm to her soul, to be treated like an equal.

As they grew more comfortable around each other, a normal progression considering that Eric was now spending more time with Fox than Ethan was, the stringent barriers they’d erected at first encounter had began to crumble. Fox had little time to ensure she was well-groomed, little drive to maintain a flawless appearance anymore, she had better things to do, like care for her baby. As a result, even around Eric she found herself wearing less than clean clothes, wrinkled shirts, pajama pants, her hair caught up in a messy bun, no makeup beyond lip balm. Eric relaxed his personal appearance as well, it was a surprise the first time Fox looked up at Eric’s entrance to the apartment to see him in jeans and a t-shirt, rather than the leader’s uniform she’d always seen before.

On more than one occasion Fox found herself watching Eric hold Remy, cradling him gently in his arms to put him to sleep, or soothe his cries and was struck with the thought that Eric was more of a father to Remy than Ethan was. When he was home, Ethan paid little attention to the baby, saying he would interact with Remy when the infant could interact back. Eric was always gentle with the newborn, always listening for sounds that he needed to be held or changed or fed. When he passed Remy to Fox, she would do her best to ignore the tingles she’d begun to feel when their hands brushed each other. More than once she saw Eric jolt ever so slightly at their contact, but didn’t say anything.

Fox even grew at ease nursing Remy in Eric’s presence, fuck, he was around so much helping that the little guy would starve if she didn’t eighty-six her modesty eventually. More and more she’d glance up from Remy, content at her breast, to see Eric gazing at them, his eyes soft, almost longing. At first they would both flush and look away, but soon would only exchange companionable smiles and go back to their tasks.

Fox felt faint stirrings of guilt as her feelings towards Eric grew stronger, so she did her best to ignore them, telling herself it was only natural to begin to feel a fondness for someone who was unfailingly at your side during a hard time, that what she felt towards her former trainer was gratitude, nothing more. Surely Eric didn’t feel the same, he was quite attached to his nephew sure, but he had his pick of women at Dauntless, why would he want her, a drab Amity transfer with a self-esteem problem? He had promised his brother to care for his family while he was gone, nothing more.

Eric too fought his burgeoning feelings for Fox. At first she was only an initiate, then an obligation, tied to him through family, carrying his brother’s child, but then he woke up one morning and his first thought was of her, specifically the gentle smile she’d given him the night before as he’d held Remy, found himself tenderly stroking his nephew’s cheek. Soon, his heart would ache when he wasn’t near her, he would find his thoughts drifting in the office, wondering what she was doing, how she was faring alone for the day because Ethan was off in Erudite or Candor, banging away at a keyboard. He looked forward to changing clothes at home and heading over to her apartment, the latent tension he always carried disappearing when he crossed the threshold. More than once now, he’d indulged in a tender caress of Fox’s cheek as he’d pulled a blanket over her wherever she’d fallen asleep, on her bed or the couch, usually with little Remy cradled to her. Eric would find himself just standing there, gazing down at the mother and son and thinking to himself that Ethan didn’t deserve them. And you do? a voice in his head would growl back. Yes.

It was only a matter of time.

Remy was a month old, and Ethan was gone again. He was heading a major computer systems upgrade for Erudite and had been home one night in the last nine. Eric had been all but living at the apartment, to the casual observer who didn’t know any different, he would be mistaken as the father of little Remington Maxwell Coulter.

Remy was fussy and Fox was overwhelmed. She’d healed physically from the trauma of birth, having ingested a vial of healing serum at Ethan’s request, but was still tired, hormonal and awkward. Her body had not yet returned to it’s pre-pregnancy shape and she still felt ugly and disgusting, a sagging milk machine that constantly stank of panic and baby spit-up. Ethan’s latent disapproval of her when he was home, of her seeming inability to bounce back quickly wore at Fox, her sense of worth too strongly tied to her physical appearance and Ethan’s opinions. Ethan had always found stealthy ways of voicing his preference for a thin, fit woman and Fox now found she was similarly hard on herself.

Finally, she’d nursed and soothed Remy enough that he’d fallen asleep and she’d stumbled out to the living room, collapsed onto the couch. Eric had been cleaning up in the kitchen, and, seeing her slumped over, brought her a glass of water, sitting easily at her side. Fox lifted her head when Eric nudged her arm and smiled wearily in thanks.

���Can I bring you anything else?” He’d murmured.

Fox shook her head before mumbling, “a nanny? My husband? The drive to get off my ass and do something?” She scrubbed her hands over her face, exhausted. Eric grabbed her wrists and turned her to him. His actions surprised Fox, he’d never been this direct before.

“Don’t think like that. You are doing just fine Fox. You have a newborn, it’s going to be tough for awhile.”

Ethan’s words tumbled from Fox’s lips. “I’m not trying hard enough, I’m being lazy and self-indulgent.”

Eric blinked in surprise, his grip on her wrists tightening. “Who told you that, Ethan? Fuck. Fox you are not being lazy and what? self-indulgent, you are busting your ass to take care of a baby while my asshole of a brother runs around the city! Fuck him, he’s never home for you!”

Fox was already shaking her head. looking down at her feet, “no, Eric he’s right. I’m not getting back in shape fast enough-”

“What?!” Eric sounded aghast. He let go of Fox’s wrists and grabbed her shoulders. “Fox, look at me.”

Fox shook her head, she had started to cry, tears of misery dripping into her lap. Eric let go of her shoulders and cupped her face, his touch startlingly gentle, and raised her head to meet his gaze.

“Fox? Look at me…. please?” His thumb stroked across her bottom lip.

Sniffling, Fox raised her eyes, focusing unwillingly on his gaze, blinking rapidly.

“You are not lazy. You don’t need to be busting your ass at the gym, you’re beautiful….. I’ve always thought so.”

Fox scoffed and tried to pull away, “you’re supposed to say that Eric, I’m the crazy new mother and your sister-in-law, it’s expected-”

Eric’s lips crushed to hers, startling Fox silent. A flash of heat and what could only be described as relief shot through her and she frantically deepened the kiss, reaching up to claw at the back of Eric’s head, pulling him closer. Eric’s arms wrapped around Fox, pulling her into his lap as they continued to devour each other’s mouths. Finally Eric pulled back, resting his forehead to Fox’s.

Panting, he gasped, “Fox, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” his words were lost as Fox cupped his face, pulling him back to her, their lips connected again and Eric’s fragile hold snapped.

Turning, he pushed Fox back down onto the couch and crawled over her. Their bodies snaked together, both making desperate sounds of need as they ravished each other. Fox pushed Eric’s shirt up, hands grazing over his muscular abdomen and he grabbed it with one hand, yanking it roughly off, tossed it carelessly away.  Neither could stop, they were feeding off each other’s desire and pent-up attraction, the floodgates finally opened. Eric curled his hands under Fox’s shirt, skimming along her fevered skin, pulling it over her head. Her bra quickly followed and his lips closed around Fox’s nipple, she arched underneath him with a mewl, her hand starting to stroke roughly at the bulge in his jeans. Groaning, Eric attacked her mouth again, clawing at Fox’s shorts while she pulled at his zipper. Frantic now, Eric ripped Fox’s shorts away, and yanked at his jeans, pushing them far enough down his hips to free himself. Spitting on his hand he rubbed his cock then pushed urgently inside her; Fox moaned sharply underneath him, he was larger than Ethan. She wrapped her legs around his hips, desperate to feel him deeper.

“Oh fuck,” Eric groaned into her neck, thrusting violently, completely lost in bliss.

Fox clawed at Eric’s back, crying out his name. A wave of unbelievable desire had crashed over her, Eric felt so fucking good inside of her, his helpless groans in her ear igniting her blood all the more. There was only them, only this moment and Fox let herself explode. Screaming his name Fox writhed in ecstasy, and Eric roared in release, throwing his head back, slamming his hips to hers, his cock pulsing deep inside. Gasping for breath, they collapsed together, too spent to move just yet.

Fox panted, curling into Eric’s heaving chest. Sex with Ethan had never affected her like this, never made her body sing and heart race. This brief, desperate encounter with Eric was far and away the most passionate and visceral she’d ever felt. Fox tried to feel anger, tried to feel used or wronged, but she couldn’t. All she could muster was the strangest feeling of rightness, that she was finally….. home.

Eric groaned above her, his hand stroking her hair and she felt the exact moment he came back to his senses enough to realize where he was and what had just happened. His muscles went tense and his breath caught in his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Fox heard him breathe and he scrambled off of her, the sudden lack of his body heat making Fox shiver. She sat up quickly, abruptly aware of her nakedness and looked for her clothes. Unable to reach them she pulled a cushion against her body instead. Eric glanced at her as he scrambled for his shirt, and the flash of emotions in his eyes took Fox’s breath away; if he hadn’t been feeling so goddamn shocked right now, he’d be reaching for her again. He was still cursing as he pulled his shirt over his head and Fox was suddenly terrified that he was going to run out the door and never come back. She scrambled to her feet and moved to stand in front of him, gripped his biceps, sobbing his name, hating the way her voice broke but more scared of losing him.

“Eric, please!” She begged, tears streaming. She pressed her face to his chest, letting the cushion drop and cried, felt her tears soak his shirt, felt the way his chest heaved underneath her. Eric exhaled raggedly, and his arms reached slowly up, wrapping around Fox and pulling her closer. His hand gently stroked her hair and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, let his lips linger.

“Fox-” he tried but couldn’t finish.

Fox lifted her head and pain flashed in Eric’s eyes as he saw the misery in hers. His hand came up and stroked her cheek.

“Don’t leave me,” she begged.

Eric swallowed hard, then shook his head. Hating himself, hating more the way his movement made Fox cry harder, he pulled out of her arms and strode to the door.