#ty to my future husband 💗

[pompompinkyy]

🌸

[madame-fear]

Okay but like am I the only one that thrives on angst?? Because imagine if Jacaerys and his young wife, who he by the way only married for the support of The Arryns, had marriage problems because there’s always been tension between her and Baela (just an idea, I love my Baela bc she’s my girl!!) as Jacaerys was supposed to be married to her instead..and might I mention that reader was shipped off to Dragonstone by herself to give birth to her son and she’s been alone and scared all the time, until she’s brought back to Kingslanding after her mother in-law, Queen Rhaenyra, finally claimed back the throne with a peace treaty between the Hightowers. His wife is so so shy and alone because she’s only used to being with their baby, and Jacaerys is just absolutely worried for her because he hasn’t visited her at all due to his duties as heir and it just so happens that his wife thinks he hates herr 💔💔 (this was a bit long..but idk)

𐙚 𝐐𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : the so awaited Arryn reader fic is here !! Hope it was what you expected, and overall enjoy it! Thought this was longer than 3.6k words! 😭🤲💗 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : ∿ request above! ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 3.6k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : angst to fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Arryn!Wife!Reader.

After many years of a long, nearly never ending war, it had finally subsided— bringing peace for once and for all. It had been the same war that provoked the death of innocent people, and the one responsible for your marriage with Prince Jacaerys, as well.

A rather complex marriage, you’d say it was— though, it was an engagement that could only be expected. Betrothals and marriages had never been done for the sake of genuine love, but only for the sake of allies & tying deeper bonds between the Houses; helplessly falling in forced, unhappy marriages.

There had been little to no time for any of you two to establish some sort of proper relationships between each other. It worked as an engagement with the sole purpose of gaining support from House Arryn amidst the war with the Greens. “A betrothal, in exchange for support”, and it served with it’s purpose as it should in a way, you guessed.

Except, for the looming tension that came along your marriage.

Jace’s previous betrothal to Lady Baela, firstborn daughter of the Rogue Prince, wasn’t unbeknownst to you; a betrothal that had to be broken off when you appeared in the picture, as the support from the Arryns would be placed as number one priority— with Jacaerys marrying you as the one and only condition for yet another ally. It was inconvenient, but very much needed.

The growing tension between you and his previous betrothed notoriously loomed in the air as soon as you both met one another— being presented with little to no words from Baela, and most of the time, all the endless attempts you did in order to establish a good relationship with her, were dismissed; thrown into the wind, as you were given a cold stare, with no words said... Being walked right past, left ignored.

Often times, you could feel her contemptuous stare fixed on you, each time you were sat next to Jacaerys.

Solitude had leisurely grown as a frequent monster lurking in your surroundings. “I can’t do anything about it, I can’t act as an intermediary to your relationship.” was the strict response given to you by your future Lord Husband, when speaking your mind regarding how the Lady Baela gave you a cold shoulder, despite the constant friendliness you had to offer.

Jacaerys didn’t seem to care much at all. You swore that the eldest Velaryon prince was as indifferent towards you, as his previous betrothed was— maybe, he even resented you for breaking off his already arranged betrothal. And you couldn’t say you didnt understand the situation, however.

Years of having known, trusted, each other, growing by each other’s side... Having their betrothal arranged for years— you could even silently observe the way in which they gazed at each other, occasionally. All of that had only been for it to turn into ash & dust when the time to seek support from allies had come.

But what other choice did you have, except none at all? Had you any blame, at all? Were you truly the one at fault? The growing solitude and the hefty weight of guilt was nearly asphyxiating. You felt desperately trapped in an escapeless labyrinth, being fully aware of how you had no one at all to release each one of your thoughts to— with your betrothed often giving you a cold shoulder as well, or simply, being far too engaged in his duties. Each private conversation, managed to quickly be dismissed; you had been forced to be kept to yourself, in a way.

All for a war between kin. All for the sake of allies. And you, right in the middle of it all.

Things hadn’t grown to become any better at all by the time you fell pregnant with your first child— with his child. Much less considering it was all still under the looming tension of war felt in the atmosphere.

Dragonstone had become your temporary home; one you had been sent to all by yourself, still being with child. Taking proper care of yourself throughout your pregnancy had been a difficult task, considering how the general situation provoked a constant state of fright and concern to you. Alone, with no one else to rely on; finding mere solace in talking to yourself... Or, rather, talking quietly to your unborn child.

It wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing for the fragile conditions you were mentally experiencing— it simply deepened that inner void, those bitter feelings of loneliness; poisoning you slowly with every quiet tear you dropped late at night in your chambers, after holding on to the knot that formed on your throat during the day.

The rocky castle had been the same place where you had birthed your child— a healthy boy, much to your fortune. Something that the Gods had finally graced you with. And that grace was, providing an heir for your husband... Though, you had given birth to your babe in the mere company of a few maids, and maesters. Your own mother-in-law couldn’t be there by your side, as much as she deeply desired to. Your own husband, with his duties as Rhaenyra’s heir, couldn’t assist, either— and much less, your own blood.

The Gods have a strange way of treating you, you thought. Blessing you with an heir to your husband, and, simultaneously, remaining to provide you with solitude throughout the entire way.

Not long passed after you gave birth, that war had finally subsided, moving from Dragonstone to King’s Landing with a small babe in your arms. Queen Rhaenyra had made peace treaty with the Greens, allowing her to claim her birthright, the Iron Throne, for once and for all— bringing a wave of relief, tossing aside a hefty weight burdening you.

Of course, just one small bit of a burdening weight had been removed from your life, and you dared to say, it was the most important heaviness lingering on the atmosphere— yet, you still had your own issues to solve. Moving all by yourself with a small baby boy towards the Red Keep wasn’t an easy task either, it simply stirred the occasional anxiety you suffered, along with bitter loneliness.

Those series of events happened in, what you considered, to be such a short time lapse— barely allowing you to process your wedding ceremony, the looming tension between you and his previous betrothed, not being able to have properly bonded with your husband as you married for mere alliances, having very little bonding with your mother-in-law, living in a whole different place from one day to another, having a babe, and moving once again this time with your child after the peace treaty...

... And you could keep naming each, and every single one of the little things that provoked an asphyxiating knot on your throat; one you had to bitterly swallow and keep to yourself. How could you not be overwhelmed with the circumstances?

You had grown used to being alone, with only the company of your little boy to keep your sanity hanging from a fragile, fraying thread. You briefly, and very feebly managed to interact with the rest of the members of House Targaryen— but you never throughoutly engaged in a deeper bond with them, or were often seen walking around the large halls, once the war had finished and you moved to the Red Keep.

The war had passed immediatly after the peace treaty with the Hightowers. No usurper on the Throne, no more dead men and innocent people— and all the burden you carried behind of you now, was that of the lurking solitude haunting you. It was just your small, sweet boy and you to spend time together; the one whom you found some warmth, despite still being practically a babe. Though, you couldn’t occasionally help but long for the company of anyone else from your new family.

At the present moment, you spent time on your private chambers. your little boy rested on your lap, as you quietly sat on the ground. On his hand, was a dragon wooden toy which he played with— making some cooing sounds. He had been your only companion for the moment, managing to spare you from any feelings of loneliness from the moment you had learned you were with child, being the one you often spoke to despite not receiving back an answer.

A faint grin graced your lips, with your hand gently caressing the back of his hair. You craned your head gently, releasing a soft chuckle at the sight of your boy engaged into his own world. You both were almost headed to sleep, but you preferred to spend some more time together— enjoying the quietness of the night, and the peace that came along.

The stillness looming in the atmosphere had been interrupted by a soft knock sounding twice against the wooden doors of your chambers. Raising your sight curiously as your boy remained playing in your lap with the wooden dragon toy. Not often having many visitors at the late hours of the night, you softly muttered “Come in.”

The door was gently swayed, revealing to be your Husband the one who knocked, closing the door behind him— which, it wasn’t a common occurence, for him to visit you in your chambers. The constant duties of the eldest Velaryon prince, on his role of being his mother’s heir to the Throne, were more than time-consuming; occupying the entirety of his attention.

But of course, with you being his wife, mother of his son, having shared little to nothing — plus having married only for alliances — and having some previous marriage problems regarding his broken betrothal, could only burden his thoughts. You had done an important effort to be a proper wife to him, one that couldn’t pass unnoticed.

You married to support what his mother fought for, you managed the notorious tension there was between you and his previous betrothed— you had given him a son, birthing all by yourself, and moved to Dragonstone, and then the Red Keep all by yourself, as well; only for him to spend his days focused on what was asked of him, leaving little time to even pay you and your baby son a short visit.

Guilt was overriding him in a constant, haunting manner. It was only natural for Jacaerys to be consumed by his preoccupied feelings towards you. Perhaps, you didn’t often engage or bond together in a convenient way, and you might’ve had troubles before when it came to discussing about your uneasy relationship with Lady Baela— but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you, much less notice your strenght in every sense.

It was only fair to show his appreciation, and his concern for your wellbeing.

“Hope I’m not troubling both of you with my presence?” Jace said in a lighthearted manner, with a faint grin appearing on his rosy lips, tilting his head briefly. His presence had been quite a surprise for you, and that expressed on the looks in your features, along with some tension in the air— not being used to being visited by Rhaenyra’s heir, your husband. Which, if anything, it deepened the looming guilt on him.

You shook your head gently, looking down at your son timidly, using your index finger to delicately caress him on his cheek. “Not at all, we were spending some time before heading to sleep.” you muttered in response. “Is anything the matter? Has something happened?” you inquired with slight concern, furrowing your eyebrows, lifting your gaze once again, staring into his dark coffee eyes. The innocence on your features were most beloved by him, managing to properly appreciate them as, now, it was just the two of you in the room— no duties in between, no one else to bother you.

Jacaerys shook his head. “Nothing’s the matter, fortunately.” he answered, with a tone of relief. His lips frowned for a split second, thoroughly processing his words before continuing. “I... Simply wished to pay you, and our son, a visit— as I haven’t been able to do so lately with my duties as my mother’s heir.” his eyes lingered on the ground shyly, before returning to stare at your own. “I wanted to know if you were doing alright as well, and if you felt comfortable around, of course.”

The expressions on your face softened leisurely. “Oh,” your lips partly opened in surprise, stuttering for a moment, before closing them rather quickly. You had been momentarily taken aback by his unexpected statement, as you had never shared a private moment like this with him before. It had been a situation you would have never guessed you would ever experience, yet, here you were— and it felt as if the world surrounding you stopped for a second.

You swallowed thickly, looking down over your boy, who stared at his father, and then at you. “Keep playing with your toys, my love. I will be right back.” pressing a smooch on your son’s forehead, you carefully moved him so he would sit on the rug decorating the room beneath both of you. A wide, almost toothless smile graced his features, before continuing to play with his own toys as you stood, and approached Jace.

It was almost admirable how much of a dedicated, loving mother you were, Jace thought to himself, staring at the scene— with a grin helplessly increasing on the corner of his lips. Your hands turned into fists, meekly fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. You almost couldn’t stare at him in the eyes, allowing him to notice as well a growing fluster in your cheeks.

“I-I’m... Doing quite alright.” the words came off whispered, and stuttered, from your lips, “We have been managing together all this time, after the war.” you mentioned, staring at your boy — who was absorbed into his own innocent world — before returning to stare at Jacaerys. “Thank you... For asking.” the eldest Velaryon smiled sweetly at you, noticing how you very faintly stared at him in the eyes.

“I’m quite relieved to hear so.” he replied back, in a low, casual tone, continuing to offer a kind grin to you as his eyes guided themselves towards his baby boy playing in the background. Brief moments of awkward silence passed, with a palpable tension in the atmosphere.

You had been given little time — to not say , none at all — to bond with each other, before your wedding ceremony. You knew nothing about one another, and it could only be expected that you would be awkward in each other’s presence. But now that the war had ended, the possibility of engaging in a proper, sweet manner with each other was now given. You could softly hear Jace take a deep breath, before continuing to talk with you.

“I came to visit you to offer my apologies, as well.” furrowing your eyebrows, your stare darted at his own— which lingered on the ground, noticing a rosy taint beginning to cover his cheeks. “What for?” it was a rather innocent ask, or at least, Jace considered it to be that way. With a lingering guilt that weighed constantly on him, offering his apologies felt very little with everything he actually owed you, after all the things you had done for him.

The heir nibbled on his lower lip for a moment, allowing himself to properly process in words each and every single little thing he had to thank you, and apologise for. “For many things, I dare to say.” he scoffed in a teasing way, provoking a frowny grin to grow upon your lips, as you kept delicately fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in a discreet manner. “One of the things I would like to apologise for the most, is for... Not simply not visiting you, and our baby son due to my duties as heir— but for having given you a cold shoulder all this time, in a way.”

Your expressions began softening, not uttering a single word to allow him to continue. The looks on your face were almost puzzling to him, as it contained several emotions— all mostly ranging from surprise, to a... relieved one. But mostly, a shyly relieved look began expressing itself all across your features. “I never expressed to you my admiration for your strength and courage. Much less, I have given you my gratitude for marrying me and giving me an heir, all in order to gain new allies amidst war.”

“You have done everything by yourself. Moved to Dragonstone alone, birthed alone, and moved to the Red Keep after the peace treaty all by yourself, with our boy. I often scorn myself for not having done the slightest effort of accompanying you.” it was true. All this time, you had grown to be used only to the presence of your little child offering you solace, and company.

Hearing his words shed a light of understanding to the implicances of war when it came to the perspective— after all, being heir to the Throne is not easy at all, much less when your birthright is usurped. But for Jace, being an heir occupied with his duties, before and after war, was no excuse to give offer you a piece of his genuine love and admiration. If anything, he resented himself for not having visited you earlier.

“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t thought about you, or haven’t grown any more preoccupied. And I’m sorry for not having shown it earlier, when I should have. Your efforts have never passed unnoticed.”

A gentle sigh spurred from you, nibbling shyly on your lower lip, with your gaze meekly darting towards the ground. Hearing such statement coming from him felt almost surreal, considering each moment you spent alone, wondering to yourself if your husband felt mere disdain towards you after breaking off his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. You had to process the moment for several seconds, leaving a few seconds of silence to hang in the air until you gave your response, but you couldn’t deny that a part of you was satisfied to know his true thoughts about you.

“I would’ve thought you... Resented me for breaking off your betrothal, and occupying the place of Lady Baela.” you muttered timidly, maintaining your eyes gazing at the floor. His eyes widened faintly in surprise. Gods, your words didn’t help with the intensely growing guilt-feelings he suffered, almost as if your statement sharply stabbed him in the heart— how could he ever resent you?

You had nothing to do with anything. You simply did your required duties, what was asked of you.

Jace stood silent for a moment, “How could I ever resent you?” he began, a certain desperation, and disbelief, vibrating on his tone upon hearing your statement. It almost shattered him, knowing you thought that— and all because his mind was consumed in war strategies and responsibilities as heir. The tip of his index finger placed itself on your underchin, delicately — yet firmly — lifting your face so you would stare at each other.

His dark coffee eyes stared profoundly into your own, “I could never resent you for something that was not your choice, much less after all the efforts you did.” you swore you could feel a knot beginning to form on your throat, from both the overwhelming sensation of having thought all this time that Jacaerys disdained you, and from content. “The idea of breaking off my betrothal to Lady Baela and become used to your presence for alliances might have been complicated initially, but I could never resent you for it.”

“Quite the contrary, I have grown to love and silently admire you.” both his hands had gone to cup your cheeks affectionately, taking the moments of quietness to admire every inch of your features. That was, before his arms rapidly embraced themselves around you, tightly wrapping you into a hug. One of his hands went to the back of your head, interwining his fingers in between your hair, as his other hand softly moved up and down, caressing your back; nuzzling the tip of his nose against your hair in a discreet manner— finding comfort in your sweet scent.

For a moment, you stood there, being firmly hugged by Jace, as you leisurely processed the — quite abrupt — situation. Your eyes had widened slightly in surprise, only to feel your body relaxing a few seconds after the eldest Velaryon held you in the warmth of his arms, slowly giving into the embrace. Your arms delicately wrapped themselves around his own body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. A wide range of emotions came afloat at the moment, but all you could feel, was a gleeful sensation of relief.

What you had so longed for, had been finally given in your life— to seek and find comfort in your husband.

“All I can only do, is constantly cherish the lucky fact of your existence, I have never felt a single ounce of resentment, or hatred.” he muttered, continuing to nuzzle his nose against your hair in a loving manner, before firmly pressing his lips against your temple for several seconds. “I hope you can forgive me, and know that I’ll be visiting and spending time with both of you more often— because I adore you, immensely.”

The ghost of a soft, shy grin began growing on the corner of your lips. You knew everything would be alright, from now on— it would all be less dreadful, and less lonely, knowing that your husband would now be accompanying you in a proper manner.

The Gods did have a strange way of treating you, but all for an ultimate good.

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[soleilnomoon]

could i also order a mocha latte with a chocolate (carmel) mousse with some poppy seeds! he/him ftm with eren pls💖

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა ty for your patience, this was a lil labor of love. also i love a good fake dating trope!! and eren, i love him sfm (obvy but yk) 💗💗it's probably more angst than necessary but that's just how i live my life.

2.8k words, ftm reader (he/him pronouns), nsfw, 18+ mdni; hurt/comfort, angst~, smut obvy, some fluff if you squint real hard; modern au feat. fake dating/marriage of convenience, arranged marriage, eren living in denial bc that's what he does best, fingering, a lil bit of tlc on eren's part (shocker), mutual (unrequited) pining. reader is better than me bc i'd never have that much restraint but that's just bc i'm weak (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝); both of them need to get it together *washes hands* (if u see spelling/grammar mistakes, no u didn't (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝))

“i pray you do not fall in love with me, for i am falser than vows made in wine.” — william shakespeare

HORS D’OEUVRE

you remind yourself, for the twentieth time this week, that it’s simply business.

as your parents’ only child, it only made sense that they’d try to marry you off to the highest bidder — the business world is all about making meaningful connections, and you know that better than most. marriage was never something that you envisioned for yourself, but your parents rarely ever demanded anything from you, so the least you could do was adhere to their wishes.

and if you knew your husband-to-be would be this standoffish and hard to read, you might not have agreed — it’s a lie that you like to tell yourself, because it makes it easier to deal with his constant rejection. still, you did sign a contract — one he drafted outside of his parents’ prying eyes, one that he had you sign secretly; that you both agreed to one full year of marriage for appearances, that you refrain from interfering with one another’s private lives, and that you’d never fall in love.

you didn’t think much of it at the time, because there was no way in hell that you would fall in love with a man like eren jaeger. not when he looked at you like you were a nuisance that he was forced to deal with; not when he was so stiff and curt with you whenever you tried to drum up conversation; not when he barely sat for meals with you; and not when he refused to share a bedroom with you after you moved in together.

still, you hold your head up high, determined to see things through; the sooner this sham of a marriage was over, the better.

and eren was of the same mindset.

he argued with his parents until he was so fed up that he had to leave for a few days to calm down; an arranged marriage was always in his future, he just didn’t think it’d happen so soon. maybe it’s because his parents were tired of seeing him galivant with a different partner each week — maybe because the image of their company desperately needed a more family-oriented look (to draw in the masses, of course).

or maybe they wanted to punish him for being impulsive and hard-headed, for not wanting to take the path that was neatly laid out for him, and for simply rejecting the last twenty marriage candidates they presented to him over the past few years.

so, imagine their surprise when eren agreed to marry you — someone who kept to themselves, who didn’t cause trouble for their family, who seemingly looked obedient to the point that it made him sick. he figured the best way for him to live his life would be to use you as a cover up; you didn’t look like the type to complain, nor did you look particularly interested in getting married either.

it was the perfect solution to his problem, and it didn’t hurt that he found you attractive, too. not that he was going to tell you that just yet.

APPETIZER

despite how terrible his personality is, you can’t deny that your husband is handsome. you catch yourself staring at his profile while you wash dishes in the kitchen, eyes lingering on the shape of his jaw as you scrub the same plate over and over. he’s on the phone again, arguing with one of his friends — jean, maybe? — so you’re safe to admire him from afar, like you’ve always done. you try not to do it too openly because he tends to act smug when his ego is stroked, and you don’t have the capacity to deal with that just yet.

but also, more importantly, because you don’t ever want him to know that you’d give anything for him to come over and—

“i don’t care,” eren says loudly, his voice echoing from the adjacent hallway as he paces around. the noise startles you, so you turn to focus on the dishes before sneaking a glance at him again.

eren turns when he feels your eyes on him, and you don’t have a chance to look away fast enough. his eyes are a startling shade of green that matches his intense and audacious personality; you grip the wine glass in your hand a little too hard as he watches you. curiosity at your behavior makes him narrow his eyes and you assume he’s annoyed with you again. except, that’s not true at all.

he’s mostly annoyed with himself.

the marriage, in theory works just fine — he just did not consider the possibility of him developing feelings for you, not after being together for six months already. he finds every excuse to not touch you; barely looking your way in the mornings and evenings — the only time he even shows a modicum of interest is whenever you’re both whisked away to events that require both of you to be in attendance.

it’s out of duty that you comply, but you find it harder and harder as time goes on.

the first time eren kissed you was after you exchanged wedding vows — his lips were much softer than you thought they’d be, and while he’d only intended to give you a quick peck, he’d become entirely too immersed. you’d always found yourself disappointed with past partners because of the way they’d kissed, but eren truly made you feel like you would float for eternity. his hand was warm against the back of your neck, and you thought your heart would shoot out of your chest when his tongue brushed against your lips.

even though your lips parted immediately, eren remembered himself and refused to let himself get carried away. you were a little disappointed when he pulled away, but when you looked up at him you noticed the faint flush on his cheeks. you smiled to yourself, committing the sight to memory — which would become your anchor afterward — and genuinely enjoyed his presence throughout the rest of the evening.

where he was usually gruff and blasé, he’d suddenly become the perfect, loving groom. it unnerved and confused you; he was very adamant about keeping this as superficial as possible.

you wondered if it was part of the act? but if that was the case, why wouldn’t he mention before so you wouldn’t get so caught off guard. it made you skittish whenever his hand brushed against yours, whenever he offered you secret smiles and prolonged looks, and whenever he leaned down to whisper words of encouragement when it seemed like your anxiety over the whole affair was eating you alive.

it helped ground you but did nothing to stop your heart from beating rapidly when the realization set that you were married to him.

but by the time you got into the car to head back home, he sat as far away from you as possible, his posture stiff, expression unreadable. he’d gone from sociable and charming, to his usual petty self.

incredible.

“it’s just business,” he said out loud; you wanted to ask if those words were meant for you, or if they were meant for him. the question never leaves your mouth; you swallow back the rejection as best as you can, steel your features, stare out the window and remind yourself that falling in love with eren jaeger would be your downfall.

ENTRÉE / MAIN COURSE

after that, he makes it a point to only touch you out of necessity; he figures it’s the most logical and diplomatic solution to his problem. jean continues jabbering in his ear about nonsense, and he leans against the kitchen island, eyes tracing down the length of your neck and the slender shape of your shoulders. he really should take his conversation elsewhere, but he’s a masochist without meaning to be.

“uh huh,” he says noncommittally, a heat passing through him the moment you glance his way again — again, you’re doing that thing where you act as if you’ve been caught red-handed, like some doe-eyed deer in the middle of the night. and maybe you are, or maybe it’s all an act.

little does he know, you’re much too aware of his presence now, and your hand slips when you grab a plate and it shatters in the sink.

“damn it,” you say loudly and start to pick up the large pieces without thinking; you cut your hand and try to clean out the wound as best as you can. eren hangs up the phone in the middle of the conversation to make his way over to you; the scent of his cologne suffocates you in the best way, and when you turn and offer a small smile so you can rebuff his offer to help, you hesitate.

“let me see,” he demands, “don’t even think about arguing.” he casts you a sharp glass, one that tells you to behave, and for some reason, you find yourself wondering what would happen if you didn’t follow that command. but eren’s already grabbing onto your wrist and inspecting your palm carefully, long fingers gliding along your skin softly, making you a little dizzy. goosebumps prick your skin down your arms when he drags you to the bathroom so he can properly dress the wound.

you don’t know what to make of any of this; the questions pummel through your throat, bouncing around your mouth, desperate to escape. you never let them, though, and swallow them back with as much patience as you can muster.

“hop on the counter.” he lets go of your hand and rummages through the cabinet; surely, he’s joking, and you stand there stupidly, blinking at him, not moving an inch.

he grabs the first aid kit and narrows his eyes at you, the look he gives you is disarming and he steps close enough to place his hands on either side of you, gripping the counter tightly. “that wasn’t a request, you know.” your skin burns fiercely, and suddenly it’s hard to swallow; you do your best to hop on top of the counter in the minimal amount of space he allows you.

unfortunately for you, he does not let up. eren takes his time cleaning the wound properly before applying some ointment and wrapping it. he holds your hand much more delicately than you’re used to. you watch him, wide-eyed, breathing unevenly as you contemplate how to proceed with this man. for all the bullshit he puts you through, you know he’s lying to himself about his feelings towards you.

especially when he keeps looking at you tenderly, but also with slight annoyance — like he can’t figure out what to do with you yet. on impulse, he leans forward, lips brushing against yours and he knows that if he kisses you, there’s no turning back. you don’t make it any easier for him when you allow him to stand in between your legs, his hands gripping your hips and causing our mind to go blank.

you let out a soft noise, one that nearly incapacitates him; his cock strains at the front of his pants, making everything that much more difficult to deal with.

he knows he should leave, but he can’t — not yet, anyway. it’s eren who grabs the back of your neck and holds you steady as he kisses you, mouth moving against yours agonizingly slow, tongue gliding into your mouth with familiarity. the kiss leaves you both breathless, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing you again, nor does it stop you from helping him unzip and tug his pants and underwear down. his cock is smooth and heavy when you stroke it with your uninjured hand; the kisses transform into something feverish and frenetic, your skin warming significantly when you feel his hips jerk forward the faster your hand moves.

pre-cum slides down his tip, a welcomed sight in your book. you smile against his lips when his patience wears thin — he tugs on your clothes to strip you bare, and you do the same for him. you wrap our legs around him, hold him close to kiss him one more time — mind a muddled mess the moment his fingers enter you, scissoring around, pumping in and out lazily. you moan against his lips, hips rolling forward as your nails drag along his skin.

after plucking his fingers out of you, he rubs the head of his cock against your needy entrance, a shiver crawling through you at the sensation. you whine and fuss, telling him to hurry up.

he tsks quietly and shoots you a mischievous look, one that makes you nervous in a good way. there’s nothing soft or gentle about the way eren fucks you; but every time he does, it becomes much more intimate in its own way. you both knock things off of the counter, his cock sliding in and out of you, lips dragging along your throat, littering your skin with kisses and bite marks.

you clench around him desperately and he angles his hips to power into you faster and deeper. you moan his name so loud it only makes him want to fuck you harder; so he does. he’s not sure if it’s his heart or yours — or maybe both? — that beats loud enough to make him wonder if any of this is real. you’d say yes, if he ever had the courage to ask — but, as usual, his cowardice somehow wins out.

still, you can’t really complain; not when he keeps whispering in your ear, giving you the sort of praise that makes your toes curl. when you wrap your legs around him, hold him closer to you, he gives you short, brutal strokes, hips knocking into yours roughly.

it’s then that you really scream for him, and his lips find yours again as a lightheaded feeling takes over your entire body. you both cum simultaneously, a feat that surprises him; he rolls his hips lazily, cock sliding in and out of you for a little while longer until you both can’t take it. he doesn’t pull out right away and allows you to rest your forehead against his chest; a faint sheen of sweat coats your skin, but he holds onto you anyway.

when you place a soft, chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, he realizes he’s in too deep. he pulls away suddenly and is already putting up his walls again.

with great difficulty, you climb down and reach for him, but he evades your touch and grabs his clothes so he can put them back on.

DESSERT

panic settles in your chest, the sinking realization that he’s going to run away from you again makes you clean up quickly so you can follow after him. he knows you won’t let this go, so he decides to cut to the chase. eren faces you and with a stern, severe expression, he says, “i can’t do this right now.” and he really can’t — or, rather, doesn’t want to.

to him, that’s the end of the discussion, but you’re so damn persistent — something that both was admirable and obnoxious to him — and stop him again.

“no,” you say firmly, which surprises him, “yes the fuck you can. we’re doing this right damn now.” you leave very little room for argument, so he relents; maybe if he lets you talk at him for a bit, you’ll drop this.

“what is it?”

your bravado slips but you still hold strong. “eren, we can’t keep…,” you trail off, lips pursed as you try to find the best way to say this, “i mean you can’t keep stringing me along like that.” you had feelings and a fragile heart, one that you willingly give to him over and over. his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he mulls over your words. “what are you so afraid of?”

he almost blurts out the truth, but instead balls his hands into fists at his side and attempts nonchalance again.

you won’t let up, though and poke at his chest with your finger. “i never pegged you for a coward,” you say harshly, which gives him pause. “i’m not going to have a half-assed relationship with you, i deserve more than that.”

he doesn’t speak for a long moment, the silence choking you, making you want to hide under your covers for the rest of the day; but then the strangest thing happens. resigned and wholly captivated by you, eren sighs and pulls you close to him. it’s an embrace that makes you question his motives, but his lips ghost along the curve of your ear and you can feel your heart pummeling against your rib cage. you will it to keep quiet, but it never slows. despite trying your best to remain calm and patient, you wish eren would hurry up and give you his answer, and before you can pester him about it again, his arms wrap around you and he whispers, “okay.”

[moeitsu]

Can i ask you about your OC Kate?

Where did your inspo for her character come from? Does she represent anything about yourself?

I really love your fic. I think it’s an interesting approach to Arthur’s character to explore the parental guilt he has for what happened to Eliza and Isaac. And I love the way you do that by introducing a character that’s pretty much a mirror of himself, but under different circumstances. And she has broken the cycle already. Her backstory literally gave me chills when I read it. You have a great way of adding so much detail in such a short amount of words! I really look forward to each chapter :)))

AHH OF COURSE YOU CAN!!!! 💗♥️💜

Ty Ty Ty for asking it means so much to me when you guys ask question/give feedback/leave comments on my work. I’m so serious it literally brightens my day.

I wish this wasn’t anon so I can thank you properly, but please DM me and if you want I will add you to the tags for the next chapters!!

I’m so ready to dive into the Kate McCanon lore, I’m sorry if I get carried away:

I can’t really take any credit for her name. It’s from a Colter Wall song called “Kate McCanon”, but her character is nothing like the woman he’s singing about. I just really loved the name tbh. (And I’m a big fan of his music)

As far as my inspo for her character traits, they kinda just developed over time. I began forming ideas of her as I played rdr2 for the first time, at first I kinda pictured myself in the time period and how I would respond/react to certain events. Then as the story progressed I was like hm, I would definitely be dead by now if this was me. So i made someone stronger but also kept certain aspects like her humor, sarcasm, honesty, intelligence and kindness that I think are sorta reflection of myself.

In a nutshell, the Kate we see with Arthur and the gang is a free spirited tomboy who fully embraces the freedom and possibilities of life in the west and she also defies the gender stereotypes of that time period.

However, the lack of description of Kates appearance was entirely on purpose. I dropped little snippets of her looks at the beginning such as her height and size. (She’s a big woman) But tbh i didn’t want the focus of the story to be on what she looked like or what she was wearing. I purposely mentioned she is half Italian on her mothers side, (bc that will come up again later in the story for the plot) but I also wanted you guys to picture her however you felt was right. In my mind, she is a woman who appears intimidating but once you get to know her she’s a total sweetheart (much like Arthur hehe)

One of the reasons why I choose to keep Kate out of most missions is because she genuinely wants to be done with hurting people. She gave that life up and vowed to do better. Only when she’s pushed and survival is at stake do we see her break that promise. It’s almost ironic considering she is with a gang of outlaws, but like the girls, and Arthur too, she sees them as just people trying to get by. When she meets Jack and Abigail she sees a future dangling on a thread, and decides that if there’s something good she can do here. Then it’s going to be helping that family escape this life. Falling in love with Arthur just happens to be a bonus ;)

I had always intended to give Kate a traumatic backstory (sorry girlie). It started with her family, I wrote out an entire detailed timeline of her life. With names and dates and even random life events that will never make it in the story. But it helped me so much with building her background. It made her feel more real to me. I did so much research on the time period and what Boston was like in the 1800s. Even though I didn’t go into grave detail about her childhood or the death of her family members. But by doing so, it made it easier for me to write about that hopelessness and vulnerability she felt when she finally lost everything.

I chose to open the story with her burying her husband and child because (spoiler alert, but not really if you’ve been actively reading) that is the tie that links her soul with Arthur’s. Even though she does not blame herself for their deaths, it’s something that is engraved into the very being of her identity. And it pretty much dictates the person she becomes throughout the story.

When Kate is captured and taken to a military fort, that is where her “rock bottom” hits its “peak” so to speak. She has nothing left to lose at this point but herself. And in a way, she does lose herself. River is a character I hold very dear to me. And i might write a small spin off about him and Kate in the future. He was a reflection of what Kate would have become if she did not make a change. At first, he was her hope. But when his family met the same fate as hers, he became consumed by the darkness and rage. And unfortunately, she was in a state where Rivers anger nurtured her own. (I want to make it clear River is not a villain, he’s a victim)

I do kinda regret not exploring their relationship more in the chapter. But tbh it probably wouldn’t have added anything. However, I will say the two of them pretty much trauma bonded. They loved each other deeply, but not really in a romantic sense. River offered to marry her, but it was more out of “you are the only one i have left” kind of way. He was never going to give up that life and settle down again, getting married to Kate would just be a way to seal their relationship and vow to stand by each other till the very end. (Does this kinda mirror Arthur/Mary? That might be a reach idk)

All in all, I wanted to give Arthur someone who already understands him, but doesn’t know it yet. Someone that he doesn’t need to explain himself to because Kate has already been there. Arthur knows he’s a bad man, and he knows Kate has been a bad woman. He believes he is beyond saving, beyond redemption. But Kate sees someone who can be saved, he just need the support to do it.

I’ve been trying to plant the seeds over time that Kate truly misses being a mother, and feels robbed of the life she should be living. Raising her daughter. Jacks character has helped me manifest that in the story a lot. Especially that first kiss scene. Kate longs for a family. But she’s pretty much convinced herself that she will never have one again. So by helping the Marstons it alleviates some of that yearning. Arthur believes he has failed as a father, but what Kate sees is the potential for him to be a very loving parent. And it makes her head dizzy with adoration. (There will be many more tender moments with Jack/Arthur/Kate in the future btw)

I hope you guys don’t think my Arthur is too out-of-character. In the game, his son really isn’t mentioned a whole lot, and we know the reason he gives John such a hard time is because he doesn’t want to see him make the same mistakes. But I honestly believe Arthur would have made a wonderful father. The motivation behind this whole fanfic is really just exploring grief and parenthood. Which is ironic because i don’t have children lmao.

TLDR: Kate McCanon domesticates the wild outlaw known as Arthur Morgan 😂

I can’t believe I rambled so much on this. I hope I didn’t overwhelm you. But I guess it just goes to show how much I appreciate your question, and the fact that you’ve taken time out of your day to read my story.

I love you guys! ♥️

[ivystoryweaver]

the with you fic. oh MY DAYS. WHY IS IT SO GOOD.

IT FLOWS SO WELL. THE DOMESTIC LIFE OF THE BOYS IS SOOOO NICE AND THE DIALOGUE IS SO SMOOTH AND NATURAL.

and I LOVE HOW THE READER DOESNT FREAK OUT AND IS LEVEL HEADED WITH MARC. EXACTLY WHAT HE NEEDS 😭💗

The personalities of the boys are so perfectly written. and jake. JAKE. COME HOME (FUTURE) HUSBAND WE MISS YOU 😭

it's so good. insanely good. I would love to be tagged as well when you update! and thank you for writing & sharing this with us 💗💗💗💗💗💗

i have no words - ty you so much!

i love domestic moon boys. i could write a 30 chapter story in one room of the flat istg...but i won't do that to yall reader is used to marc and steven but jake is a whole new world! i am glad the personalities work for you - jake is a lot more difficult without (television) source material so i made him a little more chatty than ive read him other places. i'm having a blast - everyone has been so nice with it being my first MK and tumblr-posted fic. ofc i will tag you! 😘