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#and thanks again for Beneath A Broken Sky :)
victorluvsalice · 6 months
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Merry Christmas SatiricalDemon!
@thesatiricaldemon *waves* So you requested a fic about Daniel, Dommik, and N on an inter-dimensional vacation to one of my other fic verses...and the very first thing that came to mind was a follow up on a thread about a certain crystalline butterfly birthday present Dan sent to the Victors that my Secundus boy found very inspiring. XD So yeah, that's what you're getting. Hope you enjoy!
This Feels Like A Recipe For Disaster
“. . .and that allowed me to dampen the threat response! They still react if one of the flock gets injured, but it’s more of a ‘chase away the potential threat’ thing – they won’t try a full swarm unless you full-on shatter one of them.”
“Oh, excellent, excellent! And I see in your notes here you were looking to see if you could get different colors – I would imagine that if you added that lovely compound to the caterpillar mid-metamorphosis, you could get a truly acidic shade of green!”
“Maybe, but that also has a good chance of completely destabilizing the metamorphosis entirely. . .though I guess it’s all about how much I add. . .”
Alice looked over at the two, hunched over the main experimentation table in Victor’s greenhouse lab, and shook her head fondly. “I’m sorry, it sounds like they may be at this for a while,” she commented, turning back to their other two guests. “Victor was – very inspired by that little gift your Dr. Daniel sent along for his birthday.”
“So I can see,” Dommik said, grinning in that rather off-kilter way he had. Then again, Alice supposed that since he was really some sort of odd vampire-worm thing running around in a human suit (and how she wished she didn’t know that), it was only to be expected. “Daniel was hoping that he’d enjoy the statue, but I don’t think he expected him to try and recreate it.”
Normally it’s a bad idea for anyone to attempt to copy anomalous flora and fauna, N added, their cold gaze fixed on Daniel and Victor as they kept exchanging ideas on tweaks to the crystalline butterflies Victor was working on. But your husband seems to have a rare talent in that regard.
“Only because it’s a butterfly, I’m sure,” Alice replied, folding her arms. “Lepidoptery is Victor’s specialty. He can work with other insects too – we’ve got a hive of modified bees from a honey-making venture he attempted a little while back – and he’s got some talent with engineering, but butterflies and moths are where he shines.” She grinned. “Possibly because his very first project as a Touched was figuring out how to make them glow.”
“Oooh! I’d love to see that!” Dommik said, excitement shining through his eye sockets. “I’m sure they’re beautiful!”
“They are – and much less deadly than the creatures you lot apparently deal with on a daily basis,” Alice said, glancing between them and Daniel. “I thought Secundus could be a rowdy place to live sometimes, but after the stories you’ve told us of your world, it seems almost – peaceful.”
It is a difficult place to exist sometimes, N agreed. But we have found happiness there, regardless of the circumstances. They tilted their head at her. I do still find it interesting you do not exhibit the same Hume potential as the Alice we know at home.
“Oh, I’d love to be able to bend reality to my will,” Alice grumbled. “It’d make life so much easier. . .then again, your Alice seems to have had a very different life to mine, even if some of the broader events match up?”
“Mmm? Oh, yes – I’ve noticed your meta-narrative placement is much different from hers,” Daniel commented, looking up from the notepad he’d been sharing with Victor. “As is this Victor’s from the one I know. No waking up Emily means no potential for necromancy at all!”
“I’ll take raising butterflies over raising the dead,” Victor mumbled, scribbling something with a frown. “Hmmm – I’m not entirely sure that’s adding up right. . .”
“I’m just wondering where Smiler is,” Dommik said, looking around.
Alice blinked, then glanced over at Victor, who looked equally confused. “Ah – who?”
“You know – Smiler! Your themfriend?”
“Wrong universe, dearest,” Daniel said, with a slightly softer version of his trademark manic grin. “This romantic situation was resolved before their creation – though they may be here somewhere in potentia! Perhaps I could look into the matter!”
“Who are they?” Victor asked. “Other than a ‘themfriend.’” He smiled, tone light. “What, are we supposed to be a threesome too?”
Daniel laughed. “You could if you wanted to be! In fact, in studying the meta-verse for this trip, I actually located a reality where you and Alice are part of a nine-person polycule!”
Alice and Victor shared another, much more astonished glance. “. . .all right, now you have to tell us about that one,” Alice said after a moment, shaking her head. “Because I have got to know.”
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elizaleclerc · 20 days
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Hi, could we please get something for Charles winning in monaco finally breaking the curse
this is perfect bc i was already working on this piece when the request came in so TY <333
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the predestined ✤
charles leclerc x reader
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summary: after many years as best friends, driver!reader is there for charles's first win in monaco
song: the chain by fleetwood mac
author's note: cried during charles's win obviously so ofc i'm gonna write about it! so happy for charles i'll literally remember that race forever. <333
word count: 2.1k
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With a deep breath, Charles positioned himself behind the wheel of his car in the garage. A nervous energy pulsed through the air as everyone eagerly awaited the start of the prestigious Monaco Grand Prix. From your spot in the balcony with his family and friends, you could see the sea of faces in the grandstands. This was an annual tradition; ever since he had joined the ranks of Formula One racing, something seemed to go awry on this particular race day.
Four years ago in Monaco, it was your second season driving in Formula One alongside your best friend Charles. The roar of the engines filled the air as you pushed your scarlet car to its limits, weaving through the tight turns and tunnels of the famous street circuit. But then, a sudden jolt as you brushed the side of the wall, sending your car spinning out of control towards the barriers. Your heart raced as you fought for control, but it was too late. The impact with another car sent shards of metal flying and your body jolting violently within the cockpit.
Struggling to catch your breath, you tried to make sense of what had just happened. The world around you seemed to blur and spin as if you were caught in a whirlwind. The once clear sky now appeared hazy and distorted, making it difficult to focus on anything other than the pain coursing through your body.
Muffled calls from your team over the radio asking if you were alright echoed in your ear, but you didn’t have the ability to respond. Your senses were overloaded and all you could do was try to stay conscious as the world continued to spin.
Unbeknownst to you, flames had engulfed your car, licking at your helmet and suit. Red flags went waving, signaling danger on the track as fire marshals rushed to pull you out of the fiery wreckage. Their brave actions saved your life, freeing you from the burning prison that was once your beloved race car. Relief flooded through you as fresh air filled your lungs and cool asphalt crunched beneath your feet.
Your mind reeled as you processed what had just occurred. In an instant, everything could have been lost, but thanks to quick thinking and skilled rescuers, you were still standing. It was a stark reminder of the dangers of Formula One racing, but also a testament to the bravery and teamwork that binds drivers and their teams together.
The impact of the crash was so severe that it left you with injuries that would sideline you for multiple races that season. The ultimate decision to never race again weighed heavily on your mind, as the thought of even stepping back into a Formula One car filled you with terror. You often found yourself haunted by nightmares of the crash, each vivid dream bringing back the gut-wrenching fear and pain you experienced that day. The mere idea of getting behind the wheel again was enough to make your heart race and palms sweat uncontrollably. Even now, years later, the memory of the accident is still fresh in your mind, replaying itself over and over like a broken record.
The next year in Monaco, as Charles raced for Ferrari without you, he had a DNF. And another one the year after. It seemed that in the following years after your crash, Charles had nothing but bad luck in Monaco, and you partially blamed yourself for it.
You’ve been fiercely loyal to Charles, following him on his journey through the fast-paced world of racing. From the adrenaline-filled tracks of Monaco to the Formula One races across the globe, you were by his side every step of the way. As his best friend since childhood, he called you his good luck charm, and you took pride in knowing that your presence brought him comfort and confidence. The two of you used to spend afternoons zooming around karting, dreaming of the day when you would both be competing in Formula One and representing your home streets of Monaco. Memories flooded your mind, bringing back images of carefree days spent laughing and chasing each other around circuits, helmets bouncing with every turn.
From the first day you met, you and Charles were inseparable. Your bond was unbreakable, forged through countless shared experiences and deep conversations. You were always there for him, watching as he dated girls who only ended up breaking his heart. You felt his pain as if it were your own, but you couldn't bring yourself to express your true feelings for fear of ruining your friendship. You knew deep down that if Charles would just give you a chance, you could make him the happiest man on earth. But you guarded your heart, afraid of the consequences of revealing your love for him. Despite it all, your unwavering loyalty and devotion to each other remained constant, a shining beacon amidst the turbulent waters of young love and friendship.
So you stood in the garage anxiously as the five red lights went out and the race in Monaco began. Charles had earned pole, so everyone hoped he could stay first for the whole race. As the cars roared by, the tension in the air grew thicker. It was a difficult circuit for overtaking, and some spectators complained about the lack of action. But for Charles and his team, every second counted as they strategized and hoped he could maintain his lead until the end of the race. 
Even with the little action of the race, your body was riddled with nerves the whole time. You knew that Ferrari was not making any plans for a pit stop, as the two McLarens behind them were too close to Charles. You had faith that Charles could manage his tires well, but with 78 laps of racing, anything could happen.
As Charles completed his 50th lap, he expertly maneuvered around the track, his car gliding gracefully through the turns. With calculated precision, he would occasionally slow down, causing the pack of cars behind him to bunch up. You could feel the tension and intensity in the air as you watched from the sidelines. Having been in races yourself, you knew that at this point in the race, the tires were wearing severely and it was crucial to maintain control and avoid a mistake with the worn front tires. The smell of burning rubber permeated the atmosphere, adding to the adrenaline and excitement of the moment.
You clasped your hands, ignoring the cameras that would occasionally show your face on the big screen. Your crash and subsequent retirement from racing made massive media news, and your name was always brought up alongside Charles’s years later. 
It was lap 65, and Charles’s first win at Monaco was becoming more and more of a reality. You placed your head in your hands, refusing to believe that something that both of you had dreamed of for years might actually be real. At lap 70, a radio message from Charles popped up on the screen, “Tell Y/N that I’m bringing it home.” 
Tears streamed down your face, a mixture of overwhelming pride and joy. For years, you had witnessed firsthand the dedication and tireless efforts that your partner had put into his career in Formula One racing. The term "curse" had been thrown around by critics and skeptics, blaming your own past accident for his string of bad luck on the track. But in this moment, as he crossed the finish line with the checkered flag waving triumphantly above him, you knew that there was no curse to blame. It was his unwavering determination and relentless hard work that brought him to this victorious moment.
You could hear Charles's exuberant cries through the radio, his voice crackling with emotion and adrenaline. As someone who had experienced the thrill of winning an F1 race, you understood the magnitude of this achievement for him, far beyond what anyone else could comprehend. This win was pure euphoria, a testament to his unwavering passion and perseverance.
~
As you stood pressed against the cool metal barrier, your eyes were fixed on him standing tall and triumphant on the podium. The roar of the crowd was deafening, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heart beating in your chest as he caught your eye. A wide grin spread across his face, his eyes shining with excitement and pride. Despite the chaos around them, the two of you kept a steady gaze locked on each other throughout the celebration. And just before the three drivers uncorked their bottles of champagne and sprayed it everywhere, Charles blew you a kiss in admiration, making your heart skip a beat. It was a moment frozen in time, one that you would never forget as long as you lived.
You stayed in the paddock as Charles did post race interviews, just waiting until you could see him and give him the biggest embrace. You listened to his interviews, smiling to yourself over his sheer happiness and gratitude. While answering one question, your name was mentioned. “This win means more to me than any other win for sure, but it is not just mine. I have to share this win with Y/N, we’ve always dreamt of this moment for each other and this win is just as much hers as it is mine.” 
Tears of joy blurred your vision as you heard the endearing words spill from his mouth. As he finally returned to the paddock, you couldn't contain your excitement and ran up to him, throwing your arms around his broad neck. He lifted you up with ease, spinning you around in a blur of laughter and exhilaration. "We did it! We really did it!" His voice rang out triumphantly, echoing through the room.
"I'm so proud of you," you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion.
His hand cupped your face gently, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a momentary pause as he seemed to gather his thoughts before speaking again. "I couldn't have done it without you," he said earnestly. "And I want you to know...I love you.”
You couldn't help but let out a small laugh. The two of you had always been close best friends, and saying "I love you" was a common occurrence between the two of you. But this time, there was something different in the way he said it.
"I know you do, Charles," you replied, a small smile still on your lips.
Shaking his head, he spoke softly, for only the two of you to hear. "No," he said, his words filled with determination. "I mean it. I love you." Your smile slowly faded as his words sank in. This wasn't just a platonic declaration of affection - this was something more, something deeper.
"I told myself that if I won this race, I would finally tell you how I truly feel," he continued, his voice trembling slightly. "And I meant every word of it. I love you." Your heart swelled with emotions as his words washed over you, and your lips parted in shock. In that moment, surrounded by nothing but each other's presence and the sound of your beating hearts, everything changed between the two of you. And as his hand slipped into yours, you knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful and true.
As a small smile spread across your face, you replied in a soft, breathless voice, “I love you too, I always have.” A surge of emotions flooded through you, almost overwhelming in their intensity. 
His grin seemed bigger than it was when he was on the podium, his eyes shining with pure joy. “Since I won, can I kiss you now?”
You eagerly nodded, feeling your heart race as his lips met yours. In this moment, all the stresses and worries of the past weeks seemed to melt away. It was just you and Charles, finally together after so many obstacles and challenges. The realization that he was now yours and you were his filled you with a sense of contentment and happiness like never before. You held onto him tightly, basking in the warmth and love that radiated from both of you.     
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revasserium · 4 months
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hiii, can I still request a drabble? if yes, I want to ask for prompt 1, vocabulary list: stay with rafayel. bcs I think this boy is definitely a tsundere, will do and say literally anything but the truth that he wants you to stay with him. clingy rafayel is just so cute! thank you, I love your writings by the way ✨
send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble
24. vocabulary list: stay
rafayel; 2,073 words; fluff, fem!reader, pining, slight!spoilers, no "y/n", teeth rotting fluff
summary: 5 times rafayel asks you to stay + 1 time you do instead
a/n: it's just cuteness u__u
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001.
“Stay.”
You are both children, and the summer sea is lapping at your feet. Sand squeezes between your toes and shells glitter like diamonds scattered across your stretch of secret beach. Rafayel’s pinky is hooked through yours. You laugh a laugh that sounds like heartbreak, even though Rafayel is too young to know what heartbreak means —
He wonders, later, if creatures of the sea are both with heartbreak in their bones — because what is heartbreak if not the sea? With the way it sings to an endless sky, the way it cups the world in its palm, the way it loves so helplessly — the beach, the seafarers, the rain — only for its loves to sink into its depths and never rise again.
“I can’t — you know I can’t!” you’re still laughing, digging your toes into the sand, as if this were all just a game.
Rafayel huffs, “I don’t! I don’t know!” and he knows he’s being petulant, being childish. But he figures he still is a child, by the measure of the sea, so he should be allowed at least this.
“I’ll be back tomorrow!” you say, you promise, so carelessly, as humans are wont to do.
Rafayel bites his lips, and a part of him knows that you won’t be. Still, he forces a smile, a sigh, and nods.
“Okay then… I’ll see you tomorrow.”
002.
“Stay…” he’s drunk. He can taste it in the weight of the humid air on his tongue. It’s late — the summer moon hanging huge and turgid on the horizon. Even the tide is lazy as it sloshes against the long stretch of shore just outside his window, weighed down by the summertime dreams of long lost loves, the shrapnel bits of broken promises.
You sigh as you look down at him, your eyes bright in the dim lighting of his giant studio.
“I really should be getting back…” you glance at the large clock on the wall, but your eyes flicker back towards him and Rafayel seizes on the chance, pushing himself up and tugging at your sleeve.
“You told me you’d come back and now… you’re leaving again…” he knows he sounds like a petulant child but he feels like a petulant child, the half-bottle of champagne dulling his senses and muffling his usually razor sharp wit.
“I —” a frown creases your forehead as you crouch down beside him, looking over his face, “I said I’d… come back?”
Rafayel sighs again, letting his eyes fall shut, “You don’t even remember…”
He feels the cool of your palm against his cheek and fights down the urge to moan and lean in closer, to press you to him.
“You must really be drunk, huh…” your voice is soft and helpless, but he can hear the hint of your resigned laughter. A moment later, he feels the couch dip as you sit back down, tugging his head into your lap as you run an absent hand through his disheveled hair.
He shakes his head, “Not drunk…”
“Shh… just sleep, okay?” you murmur, pressing your hand to his forehead and smoothing out the tiny frown threatening to crease his brows.
“Will you be here when I wake up?” he asks, even though he doesn’t really want to know the answer.
Your laughter is soft, and maybe even a little sad as you caress his cheek.
“Maybe.”
003.
“Stay… still.” Rafayel has both your wrists pinned above your head, his eyes narrowed as he looks down at you. You tug at this grip, cheeks flushed as you glare up at him.
“Stop! It’s fine —!”
“It is not fine,” he bites out as he reaches down to tug up your shirt. You squirm beneath him, your skin burning hot as his eyes skate down the length of your torso to catch on your lower abdomen, where you can feel the wound you’d gotten during your latest mission splitting open, oozing a steady stream of warm blood onto your freshly laundered sheets.
“This — you —” his eyes are wide as he looks up at you before his gaze is drawn back down. A look of horror seeps into his face as he lets go of your wrists.
“I’m — it’s okay — I’m okay…” you say, wincing as you push yourself into a half-sitting position, him still half-hovering over you with an expression caught between anger, terror, and confusion. You sigh, looking down at the large, rather ungainly gash on your lower abdomen.
It’d hurt like hell, sure, but now, it’s mostly faded to a dull throbbing and the occasional zing of pain that shoots up your spine. Vaguely, you wonder how many stitches it’ll have to be this time.
“Y-you’re…” Rafayel sounds distraught, and even though he glares at you again, you can hear the tremor in his voice.
“I just need some sleep… and tomorrow, I’ll go get it checked out.”
Rafayel slumps sideways onto the bed next to you, an arm thrown over his eyes.
“I’ll come with you.”
“If you want,” you lay back against your pillow, shifting gingerly so as not to agitate the wound even more.
“Do you have a first aid kit?”
“Yeah, in the bathroom — but —”
You can only sigh as Rafayel makes his way to the bathroom and comes back a moment later with the first aid kit and a determined frown.
“Now really — stay still.
004.
“Stay close…” Rafayel’s voice is sweet and warm by your ear.
You bite down a rack of shivers a second before he pulls away, laughing at something someone is saying. The bright lights of the exhibition are a bit overwhelming but you’d promised to show up, and so you had.
The dress you’re wearing is a bit tight, but you hitch a smile to your face as a wealthy art collector smarms at Rafayel, waxing poetic about canvases and colors and the sea. You watch with a muted amusement as Rafayel charms the man into a purchase, and then, as soon as he’s got the signed check, sends the babbling socialite on his way before turning back towards you with a soft shudder.
“I think that’s enough networking for one night.”
You blink, blustering as he tugs you off to one side, grabbing two more glasses of champagne as he goes.
“Wh — but — what about the other buyers?”
Rafayel rolls his eyes, “I really only need to make one or two big sales a year, and then the rest —” he flaps his wrist with a painful, marked nonchalance, “that’s all just for clout, anyway.”
You heave a deep sigh, swallowing down a laugh as Rafayel sips at his drink.
“Shouldn’t you at least try to appease some of the other attendees?” you ask, looking around at the various glitterati of Linkon society.
“Nope!” Rafayel sounds too pleased as he grins at you, reaching out to clink his glass against yours, “I don’t really care what most of them think, anyway.”
“Most? So… you do care what some of them think?” you probe, curious now as to who’s opinion Rafayel might put above his own.
Instead, he leans in, pressing in so close that you feel his hot breath against the lobe of your ear, feel the weight of his words ricocheting down your spine —
“No… just the one.” He pulls back and your heart stutters in your chest.
“And… who might that be?” you ask, your voice breathy and thready and just a tiny bit jealous.
Rafayel’s smirk pulls wide, “Oh… a certain Hunter with a mean streak and a weird obsession with claw-machine plushies.
005.
“Stay with me… please…” his voice is hoarse with want, his pupils blown so wide they almost swallow the midnight magic of his eyes.
“Rafayel, you’re burning up!” you press your palm to his forehead and frown, your other hand wrapped around his wrist, his pulse fluttering beneath your grip.
“D-don’t worry — it’s just — it happens ever year —”
“Still! We should go see a doctor —!”
“No! No — no doctors…” his voice is harsh and he pulls you back towards him with such force that the wind is knocked clean from your lungs as you sprawl against his chest, held there by the weight of his arms and the aftershocks of surprise still coursing through you. Vaguely, you note that he’s much stronger than he’s ever let on — less vaguely, you note that his thumbs as pressing into the bare skin of your side as he bites his lips and looks anywhere but at your face.
“Rafayel? Are… are you okay?”
“It’s — I’m fine —” he lets out another ragged breath and you know implicitly that he’s lying.
“You’re not fine — I’m going to grab some ice — o-oh!” you topple backwards as he pulls you back, strong arms encircling your middle as you try too get up and make for the kitchen.
“R-Rafayel?”
He lets out a long breath as he hooks his chin over your shoulder; in your periphery, you can see the dark blush blooming across his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, can feel the heat seeping through his thin shirt and yours to your skin. You can smell slightly salty sweetness of his skin as he holds you to him, his eyes closed, lashes almost damnably long in the moonlight as he tugs you back and slumps against the couch.
“I don’t need anything else but you… so… can you just… stay?”
His voice is soft, almost pleading.
You swallow; you nod; you sink into his embrace, wondering briefly if you’d felt something similar to this before. Or perhaps you’d made a promise like this, once upon a time. But the moon is soft and low and heavy on the horizon, and the sea outside is sweet as it shushes against the long stretch of beach, the water casting a myriad of dancing starlight scattering across Rafayel’s studio ceiling.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, leaning back into his embrace.
“Good…” he says, nosing into the soft spot between your neck and shoulders; you shudder as his lips brush against the sensitive skin there, “good,” he says once again before leaning down to press a longing kiss to your shoulder.
006.
“Stay…” you peer blearily up at him through the haze of sleep, all your limbs feeling both heavy and weightless all at once. The events of the night prior flashes behind your eyes and you flush hot at the memory.
Rafayel lets out a soft chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”
“Hm?” you make an uncomprehending noise, frowning slightly as he leans in to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand, still sitting up, the soft white sheets pooling around his middle, the morning sun casting him in a halo of silver and gold.
“Nothing. I’m just gonna go grab some breakfast — I’ll be right back.”
Still, you pout, digging your fingers into his wrist as you shake your head and whine.
“Don’t… don’t leave.”
Rafayel lets out a soft sigh, laughing as he leans back down to kiss your bare shoulder.
“I’ll just be in the kitchen… I won’t go any further than that — I promise, okay?”
You loosen your grip ever so slightly, “Can your promises be trusted?”
He tuts, gently tugging his arm free, “Of course they can — I found you again, didn’t I?”
You hum, burying your face back into the soft linen cover of the pillow as Rafayel gets up to prep breakfast.
He returns less than ten minutes later with a silver tray and a helpless smile as he looks down at your slumbering form, before he leans down to press his lips to yours, curling his fingers into the baby hairs at the nape of your neck and shimmying back under the blankets with you.
He loops his arms around you and smiles to himself as you burrow deeper into his chest, mumbling incoherently.
“Stupid girl… as if I could ever, ever leave you again.”
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andvys · 5 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 30
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Warnings: 18+, MDNI. angst in the beginning, hurt/comfort. smut, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving).
Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader | past Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 14k+
Summary: For the first time in your life, you fight for what you want and don't let slip through your fingers.
A/N: @hellfire--cult ROE, I don't know how to thank you for being such a big help with ideas and editing (especially in this chapter and in chapter 27) but I'd literally bake the best cake for you. thank you so so much, ilyyy 🫶🏻
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The evening sun shines down on the trailer park, leaving an orangy pink cast on everything the sun rays touch. Your skin feels warm but your hands are shaking and your heart is pounding, not from fear but from excitement. You look down at yourself, at the sundress you bought on your shopping trip with Robin, last week. A smile tugs at your lips, she told you that Eddie will like the dress. 
You’ve been waiting for this moment all day and the closer you get to his trailer, the giddier you feel. You can’t wait to see him, to feel him, to kiss him. 
Despite what happened with Steve, you can’t help but feel happy even when a part of you is still feeling the sadness. 
It took some time to get your thoughts back in order and to calm the anxiety that took hold of you. You were scared that you had lost him for good this time, but when you walked back into your room and started cleaning the mess, you eyed every item that once belonged to him, you looked at the pictures that you had taken of him, the ones that were taken of the two of you together, ones from your childhood, ones from your early teens, ones from your relationship and ones that were taken recently, despite the heartbreak, the sadness, the goodbye that was shared earlier, you realized that you would be okay, that you would find your way back to each other because the bond that you share is one of a kind, a friendship like yours cannot be broken, no matter what. 
You and Steve will be okay. 
The gravel crunches beneath your shoes and the tires of your bike as you’re pushing it along next to you. You’re gripping the handlebar tightly as you run your fingers through your hair. 
You see his van first, it’s parked in front of the trailer. 
Wayne’s car is missing, he must be at work already. 
Your heart skips a beat when your eyes find him. 
Eddie is sitting on his doorstep, staring up at the pink sky. A cigarette in between his lips, he seems to be lost in his thoughts, not noticing you yet. 
You can’t fight the smile off your lips when you take in the sight of him. He looks so pretty. Your heart starts pounding faster. 
He is wearing the Megadeth shirt that you had gotten him a while back. 
He takes a drag from his cigarette before he stubs it out in the ashtray next to him. He blows out the smoke and stands up, he is about to turn around and walk back into the trailer when he sees you. 
He blinks, staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 
You are too happy, too excited to notice the sadness in his eyes, the dark circles beneath them. 
Your heart flutters in your chest and your hands itch to touch him. You drop your bike on the grass, not wanting to waste any more time, you rush towards him and jump into his arms and hug him tightly. 
“Hi,” you whisper against his chest, still smiling with your eyes closed. You breathe him in and press yourself against him. You don’t see the way his brows furrow, the way his eyes flash with confusion, you don’t even notice how long it takes for him to hug you back. You’re in a daze, just happy to be in his arms again. 
“Hey.” 
He wraps his arms around you, though he doesn’t hug you back as hard as you hug him. He leans his chin on the top of your head though, a sigh falling from his lips. 
“I missed you.”
Did you? He wants to ask. 
Did you miss him when he was with you? 
But he stays quiet, despite the anger, the sadness, and the heartbreak he feels – he felt all night. He stays quiet for now. 
He knows why you are here. 
Not because you want him. Not because you want a repeat of what you did the night before.
You pull back and look up at him, your eyes are shining with happiness, and the smile on your face is so bright, so beautiful. Though it’s not meant for him, is it? No. Only one man can make you this happy. Only one man can put that smile on your face. Only the one you spent your night with, the man that wasn’t him. 
You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his. 
He can’t take this. His heart can’t take this. He can’t even look at you without wanting to cry, knowing what you’re about to do. So he turns around and he walks back into the trailer, he pulls you in, squeezing your hand before he lets go. 
You’re still so blinded by your own happiness to notice anything. You just follow him inside and close the door behind you, still smiling, still beaming as you look at him, at the back of his head. 
He runs his fingers through his messy curls before he turns around. 
“Are you here to tell me that you went back with Harrington?” 
You blink at his words. 
It takes you a moment to understand his question or to notice the look on his face. 
The anger in his features, the downturned lips, the redness in his eyes. Your heart drops, aching in pain when you realize that he had 
Your smile falls, slowly as your face scrunches up in confusion. Your chest suddenly not feeling as light as it did just moments ago.
“Huh?”
He scoffs, shaking his head at you. 
“Sweetheart, I saw his car in your driveway last night. And I saw the shadows in your room, I can take a hint.”
Your blood runs cold, your heart starts pounding for different reasons now. 
Your eyes widen at his words as you start shaking your head at him. 
“No– wait, he did come over, but it’s not like that,” you say as you step closer to him, frowning. “Wait, you came by yesterday?” 
He clenches his jaw, looking away from you as he takes a step back. 
“Listen, I– I uh, I need time… I can’t really deal with this, right now.” 
You can see the tears in his eyes, the ones he is trying to blink away, the ones he is trying to hide from you. 
“Eddie, listen to me, just for one second–”
“I don’t need to listen to you! I knew I didn’t have a chance for fucks sake, I knew that I never would if he decided to come back and make things right, once and for all.” 
Your eyes start burning again. You look up at him in disbelief. 
He made up his mind about it all without talking to you first. You understand him, you really do. You wouldn’t be any different if you were in his position. But it hurts to find out how he thinks about himself. Because how can he think so little about everything that he is? How can he think he is not worthy? When he is the greatest man and person you’ve ever met. 
“No chance? I– Eddie, yesterday–”
“Yeah, and then I saw Steve Harrington’s amazing, polished BMW outside your house. Like I said, I can take a fucking hint.”
You shake your head again, biting back tears as you step closer to him. Annoyance and anger rushing through you when he doesn’t let you speak. 
“Are you going to let me talk!?”
“Why!? Why would I let you do that!? Do you even know how I–” he pauses, taking a deep breath, he turns away from you, raising his hand, he runs it through his hair. It’s shaking from all the anger inside of him. He sighs as he tries to calm down. “And it makes me so fucking angry that even when you hurt me like this, I still can’t leave your side. Fuck, I thought about it–”
The tears that you kept blinking away blur your vision. Your heart drops like it never did before and your eyes widen at his words. 
“You… thought about leaving me?” You ask, not even recognizing your own voice. It’s thick with tears, shaky and so small. 
You look away from him, you tilt your head down, looking at nothing as you get lost in your mind. 
He wanted to leave. 
Eddie wanted to leave you. 
Someone is leaving you again.
Someone is not choosing you again. 
Someone decided that you’re not good enough, again. 
Someone – Eddie, who you love with all your heart, is going to leave. Someone you thought would never even think about it. 
Your heart shatters at the thought of it. 
You can’t lose him. 
What will you do without him? 
What will you be without him?
Suddenly, you don’t feel as determined as you did before. The happiness that you felt is all gone and your heart is on the brink of shattering, once again. 
You want to turn around and walk away because you can’t stand this, you can’t stand to see him leave. 
You want to run. 
Eddie can see the way your bottom lip is shaking, the way your lashes keep hitting your cheeks as you blink so rapidly. It makes him feel guilty knowing that you’re about to cry because of him.
“I thought about it. I could never fucking do it, no matter what the hell you do to me. I could never leave you. Shit, you could break my heart over and over again and I’d still be here.” 
No matter what. 
You look up at him with blurry eyes and a racing heart. 
He can’t leave. He can’t leave you. No matter the circumstances. He won’t leave you. 
Steve left you, there was no reason for him to leave, but he did. He left you. 
But Eddie won’t leave. He’d rather hurt and get his heart shattered than leave you. 
You think about what Heather said to you, yesterday. 
You think about your interaction with Nancy, about the things she had said to you about Eddie. 
You think about your Mom’s words. 
You think about Steve, about how you didn’t fight for him when you wanted to, about how you just accepted it. 
You won’t do it with Eddie. 
So, instead of taking a step backwards, you take a step towards him, ready to change the course of your feelings, the course of your mind, and the course of your future. You step towards him ready to fight for what you want, selfishly. 
And you sniffled as you willed your tears away. 
“It’s time you listen to me–”
“No–”
Anger sparks inside of you as you look into his stubborn eyes, and you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. He needed to listen to you, he needed to because you won’t lose him, you won’t let him turn his back on you, and so– You raised your voice at him.
“You are a fucking hypocrite, Munson! Telling me I run away, now look at you! You don’t even let me talk! You wanted me to talk about my feelings yesterday night. Now you’re going to fucking listen!” 
Eddie is stunned. He stares at you with wide eyes, unable to form a sentence or even speak a single word. He never heard you yell, or cuss at him, you never called him by his surname. And you sure as hell, never looked at him with anger before. 
You take a deep breath. 
“He– Steve did come to my house last night. I also thought that he was there to make my life complicated again.. but.. he came to – he came to make it easy. To make me happy.. To say goodbye.”
Eddie tilts his head, furrowing his brows at your words. He watches the way your lips tremble, the way your glassy eyes stare up at him desperately. 
“He came to let me go, Eddie. He beat me to it.”
“Beat you to it?” He shakes his head. 
“I was gonna go to his house today. I needed to let him go. To finally cut that rope between the two of us.. And like I said, he beat me to it.”
Eddie is trying to process your words in his head, though he can’t make sense of them, he is lost, more lost than ever. He purses his lips, tilting his head even further. 
“I’m a little lost here.”
You sigh, only now noticing how nervous you really are when you feel your hands shaking harder than before. 
You’re scared. You’re scared of losing him. And you could go on and on, give him words that will confuse him even more, but instead, you do something else. Something you’ve been wanting to show him since yesterday. Something that you held close to your heart and never realized why. Something that even you took your time in understanding the reason as to why it is here. 
You look down and place your hand on the locket around your neck. 
“I– I wanted to be happy. I always thought that my happiness would be with him, planning a future together.. And I’ve known for a while that.. that I didn’t see Steve in my future anymore.” 
You take the necklace off, taking a shaky breath as you look at the locket. You raise your head and look back at him. You step towards him and take his hand in yours, placing the locket in his palm. 
He stares at you with widened eyes, confusion still lingering in them. And then, he looks down at the locket in his hand, at the one he always stared at, wondering what picture you had carried inside of it – deep down, he knew that it was a picture of Steve. 
But as he opens it, he finds out that it’s not. It’s not a picture of Steve. 
It’s a picture of him. 
His lips part and his breath hitches in his throat.
All this time, you carried a picture of him inside this locket? A locket that Steve gave you months ago? A locket that was gifted by the person you cried for?
You stare at him with shaky hands and tears in your eyes. You have never been more afraid than you are now. You have never done this before. You have never confessed your feelings in that way, so explicit and raw. And a part of you wants to turn heel and run to save yourself from rejection. 
But for Eddie, you will push through your nerves and embarrassment. 
“As soon as I got it, I cut your face from a picture we took at the carnival and put it inside.. Took me a while to realize why I did it without hesitation though..” You giggle, nervously. 
Eddie’s eyes well with tears as realization slowly dawns on him. The anger starts to dwindle and his heart feels lighter, happier again, after all the tears he had shed last night, thinking that you chose Steve, that he was just a meaningless thing you wanted to touch for once before going back to him. 
He looks back at you and finally, he notices the look in your eyes. A look he never noticed before because of his fear. A look he never thought he would ever get from you because it was the same one you directed towards Steve. A look that maybe if he had thought a little bit better of himself, he would have noticed way before. 
“Sweetheart, w-what–”
“I love you, Eddie. More than just my best friend,” you whisper, shakily. 
Eddie freezes. He is staring at you in shock. 
Did you really just say that to him?
You choose him. You love him. 
At the lack of answer you couldn’t help but feel like running again, the fear of rejection settling in deep in your gut, but your heart flipped it off and your heels dug in the ground even harder than before, not letting you go anywhere.
“And– if you don’t.. just give me some time, because I can’t live without you, Eds. I really – I can’t see anybody else in my future in that way that’s not you. I really can’t so– I will try and try..”
His mind still needs a moment to process your words, he is still in disbelief. Everything he thought he lost, is right here, right in front of him. His broken heart is mended, gone is the sadness, gone is the pain, all there is is the love he wanted to set free and show to you. 
“B-But if there is still a chance then I will wait.. I will wait for you and I will fight for you – for us.” 
You are still rambling, not giving him the chance to speak. 
He can’t stand to see you with tears in your eyes any longer, so after putting the necklace on the counter, he steps forward, with a racing heart, he takes a step closer to you and he cups your cheeks and he slams his lips against yours, taking your breath away with a kiss he had craved since last night. 
Your heart screams in joy the moment you feel his lips moving against yours. 
But you are frozen in place, staring at him with wide eyes. Your heart is beating so fast, you don’t even know how to react, what to think, what to do because just seconds ago, you thought that you were losing him, that he was about to reject you, tell you that he doesn’t feel as strongly as you do, that you would have to turn around and leave with a broken heart.
You are still staring at him, not blinking, not moving. 
But you can feel him. 
You can feel the softness of his touch, you can feel his hands on your cheeks, you can feel his lips moving against yours so gently. 
His hands move down to your waist and he pulls you closer and closer until you’re flush against him, you feel his heart pounding in his chest and only then do you snap out of it. 
Eddie is kissing you, he is kissing you again. 
You won’t leave with a broken heart. 
Not this time.
You close your eyes, you wrap your arms around him and you melt into the kiss so effortlessly.
Your heart keeps pounding, your stomach flutters just the way it did, last night, if not even more. 
He sighs in content, squeezing your waist as he deepens the kiss. 
Eddie is so desperate to feel you, to kiss you harder and harder, needing to feel you more and more. 
He can’t believe the words that you have said to him. He can’t believe that the girl he loves with all his heart loves him back and wants him just the way that he wants her. He can’t help but smile against your lips, despite the lack of air that is getting to him, he kisses you even harder as he backs you up against the kitchen counter. 
You whimper against his lips as you tangle your hands in his hair, pulling at his curls. 
“I need you to repeat what you just said to me,” he murmurs against your lips, pecking your lips again and again. 
You open your eyes to look into his, giggling. “Everything?” 
He smiles fondly, tucking your hair behind your ears, he caresses your cheek, “No, just that one part.”
The look in his eyes is so different from the one before. They’re soft, his features are now filled with nothing but happiness, and his smile widens when you peck his lips. 
You can’t even begin to describe the feeling in your chest the longer you look at the man you love. 
“I love you,” you whisper. “I love you so much, Eddie Munson.” 
Eddie doesn’t know whether to scream in joy or to cry in happiness. He grasps you harder, blinking away the tears that welled up in his eyes from your confession. 
“Holy shit.” Kiss. “I can’t believe this is real.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you so much, princess.” 
Your gaze softens, and your eyes burn with tears, though this time, it’s happy ones. 
His words are so genuine, so real. 
He looks at you in a way that makes you feel seen. 
He holds you in a way that makes you feel safe. 
For the first time in your life, you feel like you can genuinely let yourself fall. Because even when Steve felt love for you as he said he did, it was never like this, never this unconditional. 
Eddie wraps his arms around you and he pulls you in, he hugs you so tightly, almost crushing you in his arms, he kisses the top of your head as he runs his fingers through your hair. 
“You don’t have to wait. You don’t have to – I have loved you from the first moment you sat next to me and cried on my shoulder. I just – I just thought, man – this girl can love.. this girl really knows how to love, that hooked me to you, sweetheart.” 
A tear falls from your eyes when realization rushes through you, that his feelings aren’t newfound, it’s not something that he just discovered, it’s something that had always been there.
He loved you from the very first moment. 
He loved you when you still loved Steve. 
He loved you even when you still pined after him. 
He loved you and still told you that you and Steve might get back together in the future. 
He loved you and still let you go on a date with another man. 
He loved you and he still let Steve into the friend group, all while knowing that he might lose you to him. 
He loves you. 
Eddie loves you so much that he would rather get hurt than ever hurt you. 
Your tears fall harder when you think of all the times he was hurting because of his feelings for you. 
You pull back and tilt your head up, looking at him with your tear-filled eyes. 
“I hurt you, I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
His eyes soften when he sees the guilt and the sadness in your eyes, the tears that roll down your cheeks. He shakes his head at you, wiping them away as he leans in to kiss your lips – something he thought he would never get to do again after last night. 
“I get to hold you like this now, I get to tell you that I love you. I get to kiss you, I get to make you mine, sweetheart. It was worth the wait,” he says to you with all his heart. 
You smile through your tears and you lean in again, “then make me yours, Eddie. Please, I want to be yours.”
Eddie feels like he is in a dream, to get to hear these words from you, to get to hear those special, magical words falling from your lips make him the happiest man alive. This is all he ever wanted. You. Your love. For you to reciprocate the feelings that had always been there for him. 
He can’t believe that this is real, that you want him in that way, that last night wasn’t just sex for you, that it was more than that. He can’t believe that you are desperate for him, that you’re standing here in front of him, begging for him to make you his. 
But it’s real, so very real. 
He wraps his arm around your waist and leans down, hooking his left arm behind your knees and picking you up with ease. He smiles when a squeal leaves your lips. He kisses your cheek as he begins walking. 
“What are you doing?” You giggle as you hold on tightly to him. 
“Gonna make you mine, sweetheart.” 
His words would make your knees buckle if you were still standing. 
Excitement rushes through you when he carries you into his room, slamming the door with his foot. He sets you back down on your feet, grinning at you when he cups your cheeks again, not wasting a second before he slams his lips back to yours, unable to fight the smile off his face when you moan against him and desperately cling to his body. 
His hands find their way to your back, he pulls you closer and closer until there’s no space between you two. His palm slides down, further and further until it rests on your butt, he can’t even hold himself from grabbing a fistful of it, causing you to moan again. 
Your fingers rest on the back of his neck, you’re pulling at his hair, kissing him deeply, desperately. You feel his tongue on your bottom lip and you instantly part your lips more for him. 
He groans into the kiss when your tongue meets his and your hand slides down his stomach, making his heart flutter and his skin tingle. He wants you, god, he wants you just like he had you last night. 
He wants to worship your body, leave no inch unkissed. He wants to show you just how much he fucking loves you. 
But you want to do the same. 
You want to feel him, fully. 
You reach for the hem of his shirt, only breaking the kiss to tear it off of him. The second his shirt hits the floor, your lips are back on his. 
The kiss is desperate, filled with lust but most importantly, it’s filled with raw feelings, it’s filled with love. And you don’t know whether to smile or cry in joy because you got what you wanted so so much. 
His hands are gentle on your skin despite the desperation behind his touch, he is still so gentle and soft with you. 
You break the kiss when the lack of air gets to you, breathing heavily as you press your lips to his again and again, smiling when he looks at you with awe in his eyes. His fingers dig deep into your butt as he starts to push you towards his bed. 
He bites his lip, looking you up and down, hands moving up to your waist as he plays with the thin material of your sundress, “that’s such a pretty dress, sweetheart.”
You giggle, blushing at the way he’s looking at you. 
“I bought it just for you.”
His eyes widen at your words. 
You were thinking about him when you bought it?
A shy smile is playing on your lips, one that is enough to make him melt into a puddle. 
Your cheeks heat up the longer he stares at you like this. You use his distraction to push him down on his bed, placing your hands on his shoulders, and then you step in between his legs. 
He looks so pretty like this, with his cheeks flushed, his hair laying so messily on his shoulders, his pale skin that looks so perfect, you want to kiss every inch of it, you want to show him how much you love him. 
“Do you like it, Eddie?” You whisper as you shudder at the feeling of his hands gripping your hips. 
He licks his lips, nodding his head, “I fucking love it, sweetheart,” he whispers as his hands move up and down your sides. “I love everything about you,” he says so genuinely and honest as he looks at your body, his eyes tracing your beautiful face, your skin, your lips, your nose, your eyes that he loves so much, your hair, and the rings you wear on your fingers, the ones you never took off ever since he had gotten them for you. 
You stand in front of him, looking like the prettiest angel that has graced this world. His heart is beating so wildly in his chest, it’s so full of love and joy. 
He snaps out of his thoughts and his eyes widen when you get down on your knees in front of him. 
You lay your palms on his thighs and slide them up, moving closer to him, you reach for the cuffs on his belt and you start to undo them. 
“Sweetheart, w-what–”
“Let me do what I wanted to do last night. And guide me if you want, I want to learn what you like, Eds.”
To see the girl he loves kneeling before him, tugging at his belt and the button of his jeans, desperate to feel him, desperate to touch him, to taste him, to make him feel good makes him feel like he’s gone to heaven. 
“Please, Eddie. Let me,” you whisper with a pout on your lips as you tug on his jeans. Nervousness lingering inside of you and yet you feel eager to show him how much you want him, how much you crave him, not just sexually but emotionally. You want him to feel good, you want him to feel pleasure and you want him to feel your devotion and your love for him. 
Holy shit. 
He blinks, gulping as his dick strains uncomfortably against the rough denim. 
Who is he to deny you? To deny something he dreamed of at night since forever?
With your help, he takes his jeans and boxers off, pushing them down his legs hastily. He stares at your eyes, at the way they flash with lust when his dick springs free, hitting his pelvis. 
“You have such a pretty cock, Eddie,” you purr and glance up at him lovingly. 
He is big, you already knew it, you already felt it. You knew that you would struggle to take all of him, but your mouth only waters even more at the thought of him hitting the back of your throat. His tip is an angry red, already leaking with pre cum and suddenly, your lower stomach tightens, your skin begins to tingle and you can’t wait to feel him inside of you again. 
You feel excited for this new and raw feeling. Something you didn’t let yourself enjoy before because you never felt as comfortable as you do with Eddie. 
Not only did you express yourself in words, something you have never done before. You surprised yourself even. 
Your reaction now surprising you even more, the way you have to press your thighs together, bite back whimpers despite not feeling any pleasure at all, yet. 
All because of Eddie – because of what is doing to you. 
He watches the way you bite your lip, the way your pupils widen as you wrap your hand around him– that is enough to make him moan. A simple touch from you and he is gone. 
He watches with wide eyes as you lean forward, licking your lips before you press the tip of your tongue against the underside of his cock and lick a stripe up his length with a moan. 
“O-Oh, holy shit,” he gasps, gripping the bed sheets beneath him. 
You giggle at his reaction, taking him by surprise again when you spit down on his dick, using it as lubrication to jerk him off.
Eddie’s brows furrow and his eyes darken as he stares down at you in awe. He didn’t expect you to spit on him like this, he always expected you to be a little clueless when it comes to this, knowing that you and Steve didn’t really do much except for soft ‘love making’ – that’s how you described to him, at least.
He loves the way you look as you sit on your knees in front of him, the way you’re jerking him off, looking at his dick like you’re ready to drool all over it – and that is exactly what you do, moments later. 
You wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it with a moan. Your hands grip his thighs roughly as you take him deeper into your mouth. 
Eddie’s eyelashes flutter, and a shaky moan falls from his lips as he feels warmth engulfing him. You moan around his dick, sending vibrations through him. 
“Sweetheart,” he whimpers as he keeps his eyes on you. “Y-You’re so – oh my fucking god,” he gasps out when you hollow your cheeks around him, whimpering as you start bobbing your head. 
He moans your name out, trying not to move his hips but it’s hard to stay still when his dream girl is sucking the soul out of him. 
Excitement floods through you, happy to hear him whimpering your name, happy to see him falling apart for you. 
Eddie is so taken aback but so fucking happy – when he got up this morning, he didn’t expect his day to end like this. With you here, with you doing this to him. 
He lets go of the bed sheets and instead, he reaches his hand down to brush the fallen strands out of your face. He runs his fingers through your hair, making you moan even louder when his fingertips graze your scalp. 
“Jesus christ, baby,” he whimpers, breathing heavily as his heart pounds in his chest. 
Your eyes water when he hits the back of your throat and you try to not choke, keeping your throat relaxed as you continue to suck him off, loving the way it feels to do this to him. 
“You’re so good, y/n. You’re so fucking perfect, such a good girl for me,” he praises you as he keeps on holding his hips still so he doesn’t gag you. 
You moan at the pet name, pressing your legs together. 
His moans and whimpers make you shift uncomfortably and it takes everything in you not to push your hand into your panties for some relief instead, you dig your nails into his thighs. 
Through watery eyes, you look up at him as you moan filthily and Eddie feels as though he truly has gone to heaven. 
You bring your hand up, surprising him yet again when you start playing with his balls and smirking when he whimpers even louder than before. You can feel him twitching inside your mouth and it only makes you more desperate to make him feel good. You blink your tears away, bobbing your head faster than before, hollowing your cheeks harder than before, ignoring how much you’re drooling on him. You wrap your hand around his dick again using it along your lips to pleasure him. 
In response, he tightens his grip on your hair and throws his head back, chanting your name as though it’s the only word he remembers. 
The carpet beneath your knees is rough on your skin but you couldn’t care less right now. All that matters to you is Eddie and his pleasure. 
There are so many things he wants to say, so many praises he wants to give you but he can’t, he is speechless, so deeply lost in the pleasure, so deeply lost in you. 
His body feels on fire, he feels love and lust, so much of it. 
Sweat is already building up on his skin, coating his forehead and his chest which is rising up and down heavily. Only as he feels himself getting closer and closer does he snap out of it, not wanting to cum just yet – he gently pulls you off of him, groaning at the way you whine as you release him with a pop! 
You blink at him in confusion, eyes flashing with concern as you look at him with puffy red lips and tears beneath your eyes. Eddie almost busts at the sight of you alone. 
“W-What’s wrong, was that not good–”
He simply cuts you off by grabbing you underneath your armpits, pulling you up with ease. He sets you on his thigh, groaning at the feeling of your soaked panties against his skin. He cups your cheeks, “don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he murmurs before he slams his lips against yours, surprising you with a kiss. 
You moan into the kiss, feeling needier than ever after the way he just grabbed you so roughly. You wrap your arms around him and kiss him back. Sighing in amusement when you feel him struggling to take his shoes and jeans off without breaking the kiss. 
You tangle your hands in his hair as you move your lips roughly against his, surprised at the fact that he doesn’t seem to mind that you just had him in your mouth. 
You can’t even stop yourself from moving your hips and grinding down against his thigh.
“Mmmh, I need you,” you whimper against his lips. “Please, fuck me.”
He groans, grabbing your sides harder before he flips you over, lying you down on your back, he pecks your lips, “no,” he shakes his head. “I’m not gonna fuck you today,” he whispers as his fingers start to fumble with the buttons on your dress, “I’m going to make love to you, baby.” 
Your eyes widen, your heart skipping a beat at his words as your chest fills with warmth. 
“I’m gonna show you how much you mean to me, how much I love you.”
“Please,” you whisper. 
He smirks at you with his flushed cheeks and his dark eyes. He continues unbuttoning your dress, taking it off slowly as his hands touch your skin gently. Unlike the night before, he takes his time with you, he leans in to kiss your neck, your collarbone, your arms after sliding the straps of your dress down before taking it off completely, not knowing that this makes you feel so overwhelmed with love – in the best way possible.
“My beautiful girl,” he whispers against your warm skin as his hands grab at your boobs, his fingers pinching your nipples as he keeps peppering your neck in kisses, tracing the marks he had left behind yesterday. 
A smile tugs at your lips, “Eddie..”
His name fell from your lips so many times before, though never like this. 
“Please.. I don’t want to wait any longer,” you whine, wrapping your hands around his arms as you try to pull him closer. “I need you inside of me now.”
His heart couldn’t flutter any more than this. 
He quickly takes your shoes off, throwing them down next to his before he makes his way back to you, kissing up your legs and giving some love to your inner thighs as he hooks his fingers around your panties. 
“Eddie,” you whine, reaching your hand down to grab at his hair. “Don’t tease me.”
His lips are so soft against your skin, smacking with each kiss that he blesses you with. He spreads your legs further after taking your panties off, pressing his fingers against your soaked entrance. 
You grip at the sheets beneath you, bucking your hips up. 
“E-Eddie.” 
He moans as he moves his fingers through your folds, teasing your clit with his thumb as he slips two fingers inside of you, stretching you open. 
“Eddie, I need you,” you whimper, already clenching around his fingers. 
“Let me taste you, sweetheart–”
You grab his wrist, trying to pull him closer, “please! You can do it later, I need you,” you beg. “We got all the time in the world for this,” you say, driving him crazy with your words.
“Fuck,” he whispers, surprised with your desperation but more turned on than ever. He pulls his fingers out of you and presses his lips to your hip bone, trailing kisses up your body and enjoying the way you’re breathing so heavily beneath him as you tangle your hand in his hair again. 
“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs against your chest as he leaves kisses there. “My pretty pretty girl.” 
You whine at his words, wrapping your arms around him when he finally hovers over you. You hook your legs around his waist, gazing up at him with needy eyes. You lean up to peck his lips. 
“My pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips as you move your hand down, wrapping it around his dick and lining him up with your entrance. “I need you now.” 
He shudders against you, heart nearly exploding at your words, he moans as he leans his forehead against yours, pulling you into a kiss again as he presses into you slowly, making you both moan against each other. 
The ache between your legs gets more and more intense as he pushes in deeper and deeper. 
Eddie’s hands reach for yours, his fingers tracing you softly as he intertwines them with your own, squeezing them tightly as he thrusts into you completely, pinning your hands down beside your head. 
You’re both whimpering in pleasure. 
Your walls are fluttering around his cock, your hands grab his tightly, you pull away from the kiss and bury your face in his neck. 
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You chant into his ear as you squeeze his waist even tighter with your legs. 
Everything inside of him screams in pure joy. His heart couldn’t be filled with more love. He can’t even stop the tears from building up in his eyes, his emotions getting the best of him. 
Your lips touch his skin, your voice is calling out his name. You are trusting him, loving him, letting him love you. 
“I love you so much, Eddie,” you whisper those words into his ear that he never thought he would ever get to hear, let alone from you. 
He lets go of your hand, cupping the back of your neck to pull you back so he can see you. He pinches your chin between his fingers, tracing your bottom lip as he takes a moment to admire you. He gently brushes your hair out of your face, smiling when your lips twitch. He looks into your eyes, the look in them matching his own – there is love, so much of it, it makes him want to cry in happiness. 
“God, I’m so in love with you, y/n.” 
These words are ones you had craved for so long, you had yearned for them, longed to hear them back from someone you love so unconditionally. 
You blink, your eyes burning with tears now. 
His eyes are soft, so filled with unconditional love, he admires you, taking you in like you’re the best thing to ever exist. No one has ever looked at you like this before. 
“I love you,” he whispers as he presses his lips to yours. “I love you more than anything, sweetheart.”
“Show me,” you whimper, clenching around him. “Please.” You beg, needing him to show you just how much he truly wants you, how much he loves you. 
He slams his lips back against yours, kissing you deeply, passionately as he starts rolling his hips. 
You wrap your hand around him as your other clings to his, still intertwined with his fingers. You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel him hitting you so deep inside that it makes your eyes tear up even more. 
You both whimper against each other as your tongues meet and the kiss deepens into something more. This isn’t just a kiss. This isn’t just sex. This is more, so much more. 
He holds you close as he thrusts in and out of you with slow but deep motions. He moans into the kiss so desperately, sending vibrations through you. 
You’re skin to skin, clinging to one another desperately as you get lost in love and pleasure. 
He is so deep inside of you that you’re already on the verge of falling apart and you know that he is too, he is twitching inside of you, his moans turning into whimpers as you squeeze around him. 
You taste him along with the saltiness of the tears that mingled into the kiss, the ones that fell from both yours and his eyes but neither of you care, you keep kissing each other like there is no tomorrow, like you don’t need to breathe – like you need this to breathe, each other. 
Only when oxygen truly does go out and you both pull away just enough to catch your breaths, do you open your eyes to look at each other. Eddie wastes no second to attach his lips to your skin, kissing away your fallen tears, kissing your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your lips before he moves down, tilting your head to the side so he can love on your neck. 
Your fingers dig into his skin, holding onto his back tightly as you grind back against him, wanting more and more of him. 
“You’re the love of my life,” he whispers into the crane of your neck before your name falls from his lips in a whimper. 
Your chest compresses in joy, more tears spill down your cheeks and even in the pleasure you can feel the lump in your throat. 
Everything feels so right with him. 
Everything feels so perfect. 
He feels like home. 
You press your hand to his chest, feeling his heart, the beat of his matching your own. 
“You’re mine too,” you whimper as you press your lips to his shoulder, kissing and sucking on his skin. 
You squeeze your eyes shut as he grabs your hips tightly and starts moving faster, harder. His hips snapping against yours roughly while his lips touch your skin so gently and his words are nothing if love filled. 
“I can’t believe you choose me,” he whispers, unable to hide the shakiness of his voice as tears fall from his eyes and onto your bare skin. “I can’t believe you want me.”
You reach for his face, cupping his cheeks gently as you urge him to look at you. His soft brown eyes meet yours and they look back at you so lovingly that it makes you want to sob in happiness. 
“You’re my everything.” 
“You’re mine too, Eddie.” You whimper.
You never thought that someone would look at you like this, that someone would love you like he does. 
And you are so desperate to give it all back to him, to show him how much you love him, to show him how he means everything to you. 
“I’m yours, Eddie,” you whisper, raising yourself up to kiss his lips. “I belong to you.”
He kisses your lips again and again, moving his hips faster, reaching his hand down as your moans get louder and more high pitched. 
The chain around his neck dangles in front of you and you use it to pull him closer. 
“And I belong to you,” he murmurs against your lips. “My heart is yours.”
“Mine is yours too.”
He kisses you passionately as he presses his fingertips against your clit, rubbing circles against it, causing you to jerk against him and hold his hand even tighter than before. 
You clench so tightly around him that his hips stutter, almost cumming right this second. 
“F-Fuck,” he whimpers against your lips. “You’re close, aren’t you baby? I can feel it, you’re so tight around me. J-Just let go for me, yeah?” 
You nod your head hastily, blinking rapidly as you keep your eyes on him. 
He looks down at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down so heavily, the way your face contorts in pleasure because of him. You cling to his hand, your rings pressing against his. 
“Cum with me, Eddie,” you beg with pleading eyes, arching your back in pleasure. 
He cups your cheek again, pecking your lips. 
“I’m gonna.. fuck… I’m gonna cum. Y-You’re so perfect, baby. I love you, I love you so fucking much,” he moans as shockwaves grip his body. 
You’re both panting, eyes filled with tears from pleasure but neither of you are ready to look away from each other’s eyes. He pounds into you faster, a little rougher as his fingers play with your clit. He tears a loud gasp out of you when he thrusts deeper into you. 
“Eddie!” 
“Cum with me, baby,” he begs, kissing your lips. 
You claw your nails into his skin, you let go and cum around him just as your name falls from his lips and he spills inside of you. 
He holds your hand tightly and he keeps moving for another few seconds before he collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 
“Oh my god,” he whispers. 
You’re breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. Your body is shaking beneath his and that makes you cling to him even harder. 
He can feel your walls pulsating around him, that keeps on tearing small moans out of him. 
He keeps on kissing you, praising you with sweet words even as he comes down from his high. His fingers touch your skin so softly and he treats you with so much love and care, something that puts a smile on your face. 
You trace his back, moans of pleasure escaping your mouth whenever his lips meet that sensitive spot on your neck. 
Neither of you want to move, both so content with this. 
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you, Eddie.” 
He pulls back after a moment, facing you again with a dopey smile on his face. He kisses your lips before he pulls out, making you whimper. 
“You okay, angel?” 
Your heart soars at the soft look in his eyes as he caresses your cheek. You feel so loved with him. It makes you both so giddy and happy. You never thought that you would ever feel something like this. 
“Mhmm,” you smile, taking his hand in yours to kiss it. 
He smiles at you, licking his lips before he leans down to kiss your forehead. He then gets up. 
“I’ll be right back, sweets.” 
With curious eyes, you watch him put his boxers on before he leaves his room but not before winking at you. 
With a smile on your face, you lay your head on his pillows and look up at the ceiling, giggling when you hear him cursing after something hits the ground in the kitchen. 
He comes back with a wet cloth and a glass of water. He puts it on his nightstand before he gets back on the bed, pushing your thighs apart so he can clean you. 
You blush at his action and look away. Steve had only ever done it after your first time together, after that, he stopped caring. 
He notices the look on your face and furrows his brows, “what?” 
You shake your head, “nothing,” you murmur, biting your lip. 
He chuckles at you, smiling fondly as you keep your eyes locked on anything but on him. 
You’re still blushing, trying to hide from him. 
“You’re so cute,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your hip bone before he pulls his blanket over your bare body. 
Your heart skips a beat at his words, you look back at him with a shy smile on your face. 
He stares at you so lovingly, scooting closer to you, he reaches his hands out to cup your cheeks, “yeah, you’re truly the fucking cutest.”
Leaning into his touch, you protest with a simple ‘no’ as you put your hand on his arm, “I think that’s you, Eds.”
“Me?” He asks, blushing just the way you do. “Nah, I’m not cute,” he snorts. 
"Yes, you are,” you giggle, pinching his pink cheek. “Now come here and cuddle me.” 
His eyes light up at your words, heart fluttering inside his chest. 
He hands you the glass of water first, making sure that you drink all of it before he complies to your wish. 
He lies down beside you and pulls you on top of him. Hands instantly reaching into your hair. He plays with it, smoothing down your strands as he stares down at you with a happy smile on his face, watching the way you stare at his tattoos, tracing them with your fingertips while a smile plays on your lips. 
Silence fills the room as the two of you enjoy your moment of bliss. 
You listen to his heartbeat, getting lost in your thoughts and the feeling of his hands on your skin. 
Eddie admires you, running his finger up and down your spine. 
“Hey Eddie?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
You look up at him as you prop your chin up on his chest, looking into his eyes. 
“I wanted to come see you, last night.” You say, needing him to know that. 
He furrows his brows, pursing his lips as he tilts his head. 
“I couldn’t fall asleep without you. I wanted to come here but when I was about to leave, Steve was there.. on my front porch.” 
His gaze softens.
You wanted to be with him last night. 
Just like he wanted to be with you. 
“Oh,” he whispers, tugging you even closer. 
You nod, seemingly not wanting to talk about anything else from the night before, you lay your head back on his chest, letting the silence greet you again. 
Eddie doesn’t push you, not wanting to ruin this moment by talking about your ex boyfriend. 
He knows that whatever happened between you and him last night, was about more than just your past relationship. 
He leans down, kissing your forehead softly before he lies back again, watching the way you smile at him as you snuggle closer. 
You’re the first to break the silence again after a few minutes of staring at his corroded coffin poster. 
“Eddie?”
“Mmm?”
When you lay your hands on his chest, and you look at him with curious eyes, Eddie knows that you will ask something that will leave him a blushing mess. 
“Did you ever try to kiss me?” 
He raises his brows, a laugh falling from his lips. 
“Try? I almost did, sweets.”
“What!?” You ask in shock. 
He shakes his head at you, he always knew you were oblivious, he noticed that in those moments. 
“Okay, when we cuddled or you sat on my lap when we watched movies? Remember how I just kissed your cheek out of nowhere?” He asks. “Or your nose?”
Your eyes widen in shock, flooding with realization. 
He chuckles at the look on your face, “yeah, no. I got too lost in the moment many times and  almost kissed you.. unconsciously.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah!” He says with widened eyes. “And I just dodged when I realized I was leaning in, desperately, because what excuse can I give if you noticed me leaning in?”
You giggle at that, “holy shit.”
“Yeah, I yelled into my fucking pillow many nights. – I’m glad you’re amused though,” he chuckles, tickling your sides. 
You grab his hands, giggling even louder, “stop!” 
He chuckles, shaking his head. 
“When did it start?” 
“Huh?”
“You loving me… when was it Eds?”
Eddie falls silent, he tries to pinpoint the moment he caught himself falling in love with you. 
He thinks about the beginning of your friendship. 
The late night drives. 
The movie nights. 
Tuesday nights at the hideout. 
Your sleepovers. 
But truly, Eddie loved you way before all of that, already. 
He had his eyes on you before he even knew your name. 
He chuckles as warmth spreads in his chest. 
Loving you always felt like a blessing, even when he thought he knew that he would never have a chance with you. Loving you still felt so.. safe. 
“Beats the shit out of me, sweetheart. I always fucking loved you – shit, I failed classes because I was too busy staring at your pretty face,” he admits with blushing cheeks. 
Eddie is so in love with you that he can’t even think back to a time when he didn’t love you yet. 
Your eyes widen with both shock and love, tearing up with happy tears as the overwhelming feeling inside your chest makes you want to cry. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, staring at him in awe. 
When did you fall in love with him?  
Just like him, you can’t remember a time when you didn’t love him. 
“Well, I can’t remember either,” you admit as you lean closer to him. “But I’ve loved you for a long time now.”
He squeezes your waist in response, heart swelling in his chest. He kisses your lips before you both start giggling. 
“We’re fucking idiots.”
He snorts, nodding his head. 
“Platonic my ass.”
“You always said that we’re platonic!” You laugh. 
He rolls his eyes with a smile. 
“Yeah, well. What did you want me to say? I am in love with her, like fucking crazy, but it’s cool, we are just friends. Does that sound better?”
You giggle, staring back at him with happy eyes. 
His smile widens at the look on your face, he places his hand on your cheek, caressing it, softly. 
“Did you talk to anyone about it… about your feelings, I mean?”
His smile falls a little. 
Yeah, he talked about them to Dmitri and Robin, even Gareth. But the first person was someone entirely else. 
He takes a deep breath. 
“Steve..”
Your blink. 
“W-What?”
“He confronted me about it. Told me that I was a fucking liar about my feelings, that I was a moron really,” he chuckles as he thinks back to the few conversations he had with him. “Told me to stop lying to myself about it.”
“Oh..” You murmur, slowly realizing just how much Steve had really changed. Even while he was fighting for a second chance with you, he never did anything to harm your bond with Eddie, he never did anything to drive him away from you, even while knowing about his feelings for you. 
“Sweetheart, want me to be honest with you? I think everyone knew about our feelings for each other except for us.”
A smile appears on your face, your eyes find his again. 
“I think we should get a medal for most clueless people in Hawkins. How does that sound?” 
You both giggle at your words, continuing to joke around until you both get tired and fall asleep in each other's arms. 
Not as friends but as something more for the very first time. 
-
The smell of coffee and food is the first thing you notice when you wake up, the next morning. 
The sunlight peeks through the closed curtains, lighting up the room ever so slightly. You open your eyes and sink deeper into his pillows. Breathing in the smell of his cologne which makes your stomach flutter in an instant. 
You stretch your arms out before you sit up, holding the blanket against your body. You look around the room, eying the discarded clothes on the ground. Eddie’s shirt is still on the ground next to your dress, you pick it up and put it on, smoothing your hair out before you place your feet on the ground after pushing the sheets off of you. You bend down, picking up your panties, you put them on as well. A smile tugs at your lips when last night’s events start catching up to you. 
Your heart skips a beat when you hear Eddie’s voice in the kitchen, singing along to a song that plays on the radio. 
Your eyes fall on the framed picture on his nightstand – it’s one of you, just you. Well, you and sweetheart. His guitar is in your hand, his jacket thrown over your shoulders as you look into the camera with a big smile on your face. 
There’s traces of you around his room, a forgotten shirt, earrings you had taken off and left behind, a denim jacket you have been looking for, polaroid pictures of you and him, your perfume on his dresser next to his. 
And Eddie never bothers to put these things away, he loves seeing your stuff in his room. 
With a smile on your face, you walk over to the window and slide open the curtains, squinting your eyes when the sun hits you in the face. You open the window to let some fresh air in before you leave the room, making a quick stop in the bathroom before you join Eddie in the kitchen after washing your face with cold water. 
He is standing with his back to you, not noticing you yet. 
Your heart soars and you have to clench your thighs together when you take in the sight of him. He is shirtless, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His hair is pulled into a messy ponytail. He is bobbing his head along to the music as he cooks breakfast. 
You bite your lip, making your way towards him. You wrap your arms around his waist and press your lips against his back, kissing him. He doesn’t even flinch, instantly melting into your touch. 
“Good morning, sweetheart.” 
You hear the grin in his voice and it only makes you smile even harder. 
“Morning, Eddie.”
He puts the spatula down before he turns around to face you. Smiling just as happy as he did when he woke up with you in his arms, this morning. He cups your cheeks and leans down, smacking his lips against yours. 
“How’d you sleep, pretty girl?” He asks, tucking your hair behind your ear as he pecks your lips again before he pulls you into a hug. 
“It was the best sleep of my life,” you mumble into his chest, causing him to chuckle as he presses his lips to the top of your head. 
“Yeah? Mine too. I couldn’t believe that I got to wake up with the love of my life in my arms.”
You giggle, unable to fight the smile off your face as you look up at him. Taking a moment to admire his pretty face. 
This is certainly not the first morning you spent together but this is different. So very different. 
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” 
A shaky breath falls from your lips as your chest tightens. 
He leans down to kiss you again, his ringed fingers gripping your waist tightly as he suddenly picks you up and places you on the counter. 
You giggle at him, making him smile even harder. 
“Sorry sweets, I’ll kiss you some more in a second, don’t want the food to burn,” he says as he pecks your lips once again before he turns back to the stove, checking on the scrambled eggs. 
He throws some toast into the toaster before he reaches for a mug in the cabinet, pouring some coffee into it, he adds creamer and sugar into it before he hands you the mug, “for my lady,” he grins, winking at you. 
You giggle at him as you wrap your hands around the mug. 
“Why thank you, sir,” you grin, pulling the mug up to your lips, you take a sip and place it on the counter next to you. 
You lick your lips, staring at him, at the tattoos on his pale skin, the marks you have left on his neck, the happiness that shines in his eyes, the smile that won’t fall. 
He is so beautiful. 
He is so happy, in a way you had never seen him before. Not even when you got him Metallica tickets for christmas – and he was really fucking happy about them. 
Your heart has never felt this.. alive before. Just watching him be so happy, so in love with you makes you the happiest girl in the world. 
The moment Eddie turns off the stove and puts the pan to the side, you reach for his hand and pull him in, he gladly makes his way in between your legs, his lips curling into a smirk when you cup his cheeks. 
“You’re so beautiful, Eddie,” you smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “And you’re all mine.”
His eyes light up even more, brown eyes that are filled with nothing but love, shine even brighter now. He steps even closer to you, grabbing your waist, he presses lips to your jawline. 
“I’m all yours. I’ve always been yours.”
You place your hands on his shoulders, your heart beating strongly in your chest.
“And I’m yours, Eddie. All yours.”
The silly grin on his lips tells you how happy and giddy he is to hear these words from you. He suddenly grabs your face and starts to kiss all over it, making you giggle louder than before. And then, he kisses you deeply. 
“Mmmh.”
He smiles into the kiss when you moan so prettily against his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist as you kiss him back. 
His hand slides down to your hip, squeezing it tightly before he slips it under your shirt – his shirt. 
He only pulls away to ask the question that he has been dying to get off his chest since the night before. 
His heart is racing in his chest as he opens his eyes to look at you again. 
“Can I be your boyfriend?” 
You giggle loudly, “I’d be mad if you weren’t.”
His smile widens and he almost fist bumps the air again but instead, he pulls you in for another kiss. 
You’re both smiling, both happier than ever. 
Neither of you can contain the excitement and the love you feel for one another. 
You get so lost in each other, so lost in the kiss that you don’t hear the car parking in front of the trailer, or the footsteps echoing outside, or the door opening, neither of you notice Wayne standing in the doorway or the unfazed look on his face.
He is not surprised to see this. 
He clears his throat, which makes you both pull away from each other, still smiling. 
You both greet him cheerfully, not even bothering to hide the fact that you were making out in the kitchen. 
He looks between the two of you, staring at the marks on Eddie’s neck. He shakes his head, though a smile tugs at his lips. 
“Finally,” he grumbles as he simply takes his jacket off and walks into the kitchen to pour himself a coffee, like he didn’t just walk in on something new. “Was wondering how much longer you’d take,” he says, walking over to the kitchen table with his favorite mug in hand. 
“Well, we made it Wayne,” Eddie grins, happily. “And now I can do this.”
You give him a questioning look, giggling when he slides you off the counter and takes your hand in his, pulling you towards where Wayne is now sitting. 
The older man was just about to take a sip of his coffee, though he pauses and looks between the two of you, giving his nephew a questioning look. 
“Wayne, this is my girlfriend,” he grins, gesturing to you. “Girlfriend, this is my uncle Wayne.” 
You giggle at him, blushing at the way he is staring at you. 
Not even Wayne can hide the smile on his face. He is happy to see Eddie like this, so full of life, so happy and in love. 
He puts the mug down, looking towards you, he grins at you, holding his hand out, “well, welcome to the family, sweetheart.” 
You take his hand, smiling just as happily as Eddie does, “thank you, Wayne.”
“Hell yeah, welcome to the family, baby.” Eddie says before he smacks his lips against your cheek again as he hugs you tightly after you let go of Wayne’s hand. 
You lean your head on his chest, smiling brightly. 
Wayne smiles as he looks between the two of you. 
Finally, he picks up the mug and takes a sip of his coffee. 
Eddie kisses your temple before he pushes you down on the chair. He runs back to the kitchen. He grabs three plates and fills them with scrambled eggs and Wayne’s beloved bacon, placing the toasts on both yours and Wayne’s plates before he throws two more into the toaster. 
He carries the plates over to the kitchen table, placing them in front of you and his uncle. 
Wayne pats Eddie on the back, throwing you an amused smile, “should’ve gotten with him sooner, I didn’t know that he’d turn into a chef once he’d started dating you.” 
You giggle at him. 
“He didn’t cook breakfast for you before?” You ask. “He always cooked well for me.” 
Eddie winks at you as he brings you the mug you abandoned on the counter earlier. 
“I’m always taking care of my girl.”
You blush at his words and smile fondly. 
Yeah, Eddie has always looked after you and you don’t even know how to thank him for it. He did so much for you. 
He places the coffee mug in front of you and you take his hand before he walks back into the kitchen. 
“Thank you, Eddie.”
By the look in your eyes, he can tell that you are thanking for more than just the breakfast he had cooked for you. You are thanking him for so much more. 
He smiles at you, giving your hand a squeeze before he pulls it up to his lips, kissing it softly. 
“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.”
Wayne smiles at the two of you. 
“Now eat before it gets cold,” Eddie orders, trying to give you a mean look but failing to do so. 
“Yes sir,” you chuckle. 
He joins you a few moments later, placing his plate on the table. Instead of sitting down next to you, he picks you up and settles on the chair you just sat on before he pulls you down on his lap, making you blush for yet another time this morning. 
He starts eating his breakfast, scarving down his eggs and toast like a man starved. 
“Jesus christ, boy,” Wayne mumbles, giving him a disapproving look. “Slow down.”
“I’m starving, uncle,” he mumbles after gulping down his food. “We had an intense workout last night.” 
Wayne groans at his words while you giggle and shake your head in embarrassment. Hiding your face behind the mug in your hand. 
“So, are you two ready for your trip?” Wayne asks, leaning back in his chair. 
You and Eddie look at each other, yours and his eyes sparkling with excitement – Excitement that got even more intense after last night. 
“Yeah,” you both whisper, smiling at each other. “We are.”
-
The warmth of the summer still lingers, though the leaves are turning yellow now as fall creeps closer and closer. The wind blows through your hair, the fresh breeze reminding you that something new is upon you – a spontaneous plan you and Eddie had come up with weeks ago when you changed your mind about the road trip and came up with a different, better plan. 
Your mom has already said goodbye, after shedding one too many tears and making Eddie promise to take care of you, she left for work – which she was ready to miss just so she could stay a few more minutes with you. You had to convince her to leave, not wanting her to be late for work but also not wanting to wave goodbye and make it harder than it already is. 
You look around, a sad yet excited smile resting on your features as you squeeze your arms tighter around your friends. 
“I’m gonna miss you so much,” Heather whispers into your ear as she hugs you tighter than ever. 
“I’m gonna miss you too, Heather.”
“I’m gonna come visit you next week,” she jokes, sniffling as she tries to hide the shakiness in her voice behind a chuckle. 
“I’m gonna miss you too, so so much,” Chrissy sighs. 
“You guys are gonna be off to college next year, don’t act like you wouldn’t leave my ass behind,” you joke as you pull away from them both. 
“Says who?” Chrissy asks, raising a brow. “Maybe I’d force you and Robin to come with me.”
Heather turns to look at her with a frown, pouting at her. “But not me?”
Chrissy giggles, wrapping her arm around Heather, “all of you, actually.” 
“Me too?” Argyle jokes as he stands next to Eddie, leaning against the van as they both smoke their cigarettes.
Chrissy chuckles, “sorry, no boys are allowed in my room!” 
“What a shame,” Argyle sighs. “How am I supposed to visit my girl, Chris?”
Eddie chuckles, nudging his shoulder with his own, “you rent a place and have her move in with you, that’s what I’d do with mine,” he winks at you, making you blush. 
Heather and Chrissy giggle at the flustered look on your face. Both of them are happy to see you so giddy and in love. 
You blink as you stare at your friends, hoping that you won’t cry again, but it’s hard not to when you’re about to leave your life behind. 
“I’m gonna get back inside for a moment.” You gesture to your house, as you hold the keys tightly in your hand. 
“Okay!” Chrissy smiles. 
Heather smiles at you sadly, noticing the tears in your eyes. She takes Chrissy’s hand, “come on,” she whispers, pulling her along with her as she walks down your porch steps.
You turn away from them and step into your house for the last time. 
You still smell the cookies that your mom had made for you and Eddie earlier. The coffee you had this morning. You sniffle quietly as you look around your home. 
You always knew that you would leave someday and you are so happy and excited for your future with Eddie, but leaving things behind will never be easy. 
You have made so many memories in here, good ones, bad ones. Ones that put a smile on your face, ones that made you cry. Ones that you will always carry with you, even when you’re leaving. 
You hold onto the railing of the stairs, looking up, you now know for sure that you won’t be coming home tonight or tomorrow. 
You’ll be in a different place tonight. A different state, a different town, a new home. You would probably break into tears if you did this by yourself but you have him with you and that’s all that matters to you. 
A knock echoes through the hallway, snapping you out of your thoughts. 
You quickly wipe away the tears that managed to escape your eyes. You turn around, freezing in your spot when you lock eyes with someone you didn’t expect to see. 
Steve’s soft eyes sparkle with kindness, a smile tugs at his lips as he leans against the doorframe. His arms are crossed over his chest, he’s wearing a brown leather jacket, aviator sunglasses hanging on the black shirt he’s wearing underneath it. 
“Hey,” he whispers. 
His gaze softens when he takes in the sadness in your features. 
“Hi,” you smile, blinking. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
It’s been two weeks since that night. You always wondered how he had been doing. 
His sadness still runs deep, you can see it. But he looks good, better than he did that night.
“Couldn’t let you go without saying goodbye,” he shrugs as he steps into the house. 
You smile, eyeing his face, you take a step towards him. 
Your heart is aching a little – he is still your friend, still your childhood best friend. 
“How are you doing?” 
You take a deep breath, looking around for a moment before your eyes settle back on him. 
“Good, a little sad but I’m good. And you?”
He takes a moment to answer your question, he is looking at you, at your face that he won’t see anytime soon. He ignores the pangs in his heart. 
“I’m alright.”
You nod. 
The longer you look at him, the harder it gets to hold back tears. Tears that are already sparkling on your eyelashes. 
“I’m gonna miss you, Steve.”
He gets teary eyed as well as he memorizes your features, as though he could forget you. 
It hit him a little harder than it should have when he found out that you were leaving. Yeah, he let you go and he said his goodbye but he wasn’t prepared for this. You have always been the biggest part of his life, even when he left, you were still around. And he would rather have that again than watch you leave, completely. 
Knowing that he will pass by your house every day, without catching sight of you in your driveway puts a new kind of sadness in him. 
Knowing that you won’t be behind the counter at the record store whenever he will walk in, makes him even sadder. 
He would rather risk the chance of running into you with Eddie than knowing that there won’t be a single place in town where he will find you.
“I’m gonna miss you too.” 
You step closer to him and he can’t help himself but pull you into a hug, wanting and needing to hold you, one last time. Not knowing when he will see you again, drives him crazy. 
He is sad but he doesn’t want you to be sad. You have spent enough time wallowing in sadness, shedding tears and living in darkness. 
You stepped out of it, and he doesn’t want you to take that step back, not even through memories. 
He squeezes you tightly, leaning his cheek on the top of your head as he holds you, rubbing your back. He smiles when you hug him back just as tightly. 
“You got the apartment that you wanted?” He asks. 
You nod against him, “yeah,” you whisper. “How’d you know?”
“Robin told me about it. And about the jobs – shit, I can’t believe you’re moving to Chicago.” 
You giggle and pull back, looking up at him with sadness yet excitement on your face. 
“If someone told me last year that you’d be moving to Chicago with Eddie Munson, I’d probably think they’re on drugs or something,” he says, chuckling. “No offense to Eddie, of course. I just – well, I never saw it coming.”
You laugh through your tears, wiping them away as you tilt your head up. 
“Who knows, maybe we’ll hate the big city life so much that we’ll come back in a week or two.”
He shakes his head in amusement, laughing, though it doesn’t match the look in his eyes. 
“No. It will work out. You always make it work out,” he whispers, smiling fondly at you. His eyes fall on the necklace around your neck, loving that you’re still wearing it, just like he will always wear the wristband you had given him. 
“What about you? How’s the job search going?” You ask, knowing that he wanted to quit his job at Scoops Ahoy for a while now. 
His eyes light up a little, he runs his fingers through his hair, nodding. 
“I actually have an interview today a-and I found a place.”
You raise your brows, eyes widening at his words. 
“You did?” 
“Yeah, my dad has been bitching about everything lately, I just don’t wanna be around there any longer. And hey, maybe Robin will move in with me, I got a spare bedroom there.” 
Your face saddens at his words. You know that he doesn’t have it easy with his dad. 
“I’m sorry about your dad,” you whisper. 
His brows knit together and he waves his hand, “nah, it’s fine. I’m just happy to move out.”
You nod, “I’m happy for you, Steve.” 
He smiles at you, “and I’m happy for you.” 
You stare at him, thinking about your childhood, your teen years, your friendship that you have to leave behind for now and you can’t help but get lost in the bittersweet sadness again. 
He watches the way your eyes get glassy again but he doesn’t want you to cry anymore. 
“Yeah, I know you’ll come back in two weeks. I know you can’t live without me. Remember that one time my parents took me to California that one summer? Yeah, you cried when I came back.” He jokes, giving you a teasing smile. 
A laugh falls from your lips, you roll your eyes at him. 
“That was in second grade!”
“Yeah and look at us now. Still crying, Dolly.”
You can’t even fight him on that but you chuckle through your tears. You reach for his hand, taking it in yours, you squeeze it tightly. 
“I love you, Stevie.”
He smiles, knowing the meaning behind your words. 
“And I love you, y/n.”
You hug each other one last time. 
“Have fun in Chicago,” he whispers, squeezing your arms. “And don’t forget about me.”
You lay your head on his chest, holding onto him for a moment, you’re greeted with sadness but you will leave it behind, it won’t follow you into your future. 
“I won’t.”
How could you ever forget Steve Harrington?
You tilt your head up and lock eyes with him for the last time, for now. You try to not let the hurt get to you – but you feel his pain and you see the longing in his eyes, you see the way they flash with regret. 
Even though he is happy for you – and you can see that he truly is. You still know that he wishes that he would’ve changed his mind when he still had the chance to. 
You know that this will haunt him for a long time but you don’t want it to. You don’t want him to get stuck in the past and think about what he should’ve done. You want him to move on and find the same kind of love that you did. 
You pull away from him after a moment and you leave the house together. You lock the door and put the keys in your pocket, looking at the home you grew up in, one last time before you walk away. 
Steve doesn’t tear his eyes off of you. He keeps looking at you, enjoying the last moments he gets to stare at you. 
He watches the way you cling to Robin, hugging her goodbye. 
He watches the way you shed a few tears as you hug Chrissy and Heather, one last time. 
He watches the way you giggle at something Argyle said to you. 
And then, you walk towards your boyfriend with a smile that transforms into the happiest one that Steve had ever seen. One that he could never put on your face. 
Even through the sadness, he can’t help but smile as he watches you. 
With a sigh, he walks towards Eddie, ignoring the way the man’s eyes flash with surprise when he halts in front of him. He takes a deep breath before he holds his hand out to him, both as a peace offering and to say goodbye.
Eddie stares at his hand for a moment before he takes it, still staring at him with furrowed brows. 
“Take care of her,” Steve says, glancing at you. 
Eddie shakes his hand, nodding. 
“I will,” he promises. 
“And if you hurt her, and I know I am a hypocrite for saying it, but if you do, I will hunt you down and chop your head off and feed it to Higgins dogs.” 
Eddie’s eyes widened in amusement. 
Steve sees the way you shake your head as you look down with a smile on your face, happy to see him be so protective of you, still. 
“Now that’s a good threat, Harrington. But I’d rather feed myself to those dogs than hurt her.”
Yeah, he would rather hurt than hurt you. 
That’s why he is the right one for you, Steve thinks. 
Steve watches the way you reach for his hand and he has to ignore the pain in his heart. 
“You ready to go, sweetheart?” 
Steve watches the way your eyes look into Eddie’s, the way they shine so brightly for him, the way his shine so brightly for you. 
You’re in good hands, that’s all that Steve needs to know.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
He watches how happy you look with him. 
How full of life you are again. 
How in love you are with him. How in love he is with you. 
You will be happy, he knows you will be. 
And when you turn around, you flash him a smile that he knows he will never forget. 
“Goodbye, Stevie.”
“Goodbye, Dolly.”
He will see you again. He knows that you will come back to Hawkins someday but for now, you will be gone. 
And even then, he knows that you will always linger. 
-
Well, we made it to the ending. I'm sad that it's over, but you guys are still getting an epilogue. And oneshots/blurbs about this fic.
I hope you liked this story and had fun with it as much as I did.
Thank you for all the love and support I got from you guys, you're amazing and I'm forever thankful for all of you! 🩷
@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @trashmouth-richie @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @munson-mjstan @succubusmunson
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cambion-companion · 10 months
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Glimpses (Baldur's Gate 3 x reader)
A collection of x reader snapshots as follows: Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale and Raphael. Part II will have more!
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"Careful darling, I bite."
"I don't think most people know what you fully mean by saying that, Astarion." You whispered to the Elven vampire spawn as you made your way to the tavern table, flickering firelight making the bustling atmosphere cozy and warm. "It's hardly an appropriate disclaimer."
Astarion's red eyes flicked over to you, a self-satisfied smile curving his lips. "You sound jealous, my love. Don't be, my fangs are all yours."
"I'm thrilled." You deadpanned, your gaze drifting back to the barmaid Astarion had definitely been flirting with. "Do you chat up everyone or were you just trying to get discounted ale?"
"You are jealous!" Astarion chuckled and you squeaked slightly as he pulled you by the waist to sit next to him. "Now, don't go off in a huff." He leaned in and you smelled his familiar scent of cloves and iron. "
"I'm not going anywhere." Your familiar words caused Astarion to still, his hands softening their teasing grip on your hips.
"Darling..." Astarion murmured. He hesitated and then you felt his soft lips touch your neck, no scrape of his fangs against your skin this time. He buried his nose in your hair, and you heard him inhale deeply.
"Like what you smell?" You teased gently.
"Mmm." Astarion murmured, kissing your neck once more before moved his face away again. "Like wine and death."
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Moonlight filtered silver through the latticework windows, turning the stained glass to broken shards of ice against the starry sky. You heard footsteps approaching you, soft upon the deep carpet of the hallway. You turned, your breath catching in your throat as you saw Shadowheart walking to you dressed in a gown that seemed to be made of the shadows themselves, hugging her every curve.
"You look beautiful." You said, the words leaving your lips feeling like they did no justice to how your heart was skipping.
Shadowheart looked uncomfortable, pulling at the edges of the fabric that draped so elegantly over her hips. "I can't remember when I last wore something so impractical." Her green eyes met yours. "But thank you for your sweet candor."
You closed the distance between the two of you and touched her hands, coaxing them away from where she was tugging at the dark dress and pulling her into you. You pressed a kiss to her forehead and brushed your nose against hers, feeling her body begin to relax at the familiar affection.
"We must make our required appearance at this gathering, and then we can slip away." You promised, your hand ghosting up the side of Shadowheart's neck until your fingers tangled in her long thick hair. "Get into something more comfortable."
"Can we indeed?" Her voice lilted, always an edge of playful teasing to her words. "I suppose it'll do."
You pulled her in by the nape of her neck and kissed her plush lips, dragging a small groan from the woman you'd grown to love deeper than the shades of Night Orchid blossoms.
"Now let's go show Faerun how lucky I am to have you at my side."
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"She is the most darling little thing I have every laid eyes on." You spoke fervently, but kept your voice soft as you looked down at the winged cat sleeping in your lap.
Gale approached quietly, his smile fond as he looked at the two beings he treasured most in the world. "She's quite taken with you."
"And I with her." You looked up at him and smiled, it was always such a pleasure to hear his voice and share his company.
Gale crouched down beside where you sat with Tara, his hand reached forward and stroked the Tressym's feathers gently and scratched her sleeping head. Tara yawned widely, showing off her sharp white teeth before she tucked her head beneath a wing and went back to sleep.
You pouted a Gale as he continued showering affection his sleeping friend. Gale caught your eye and chuckled. "I'll pet you too, if you ask nicely."
You snorted but your expression softened when you felt Gale tuck his fingers beneath your chin and tilt your face back up to his. He leaned forward and placed a loving kiss on your cheek. He moved his lips to press against the top of your head and lingered there for a moment. "You'll never know how grateful I am for you." His voice was as gentle as Mystra's weave, it carried notes of magic and the promise of safety. "
"I love you too, Gale."
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You grumbled in frustration as yet another wooden match broke in your fumbling fingers. "Gods above..." You muttered, yanking another from the box to try again.
"Not quite." A familiar voice said, and you turned to see a well-dressed noble with dark hair and eyes. He gave you a devious smile and clicked his fingers.
A spark of fire, the smell of sulphur, and your campfire burst into flames that quickly took purchase on the sodden logs and warmed your face pleasantly.
"Ah." You grimaced, fighting down the feeling of elation at seeing your favorite cambion. "Raphael...thanks for that."
"You're most welcome." Raphael said dryly as he approached you, glancing over your bedraggled figure. "Did my mouse get caught in the rain?"
You rolled your eyes, smirking at the familiar needling banter between the two of you began. "What does that make you? The cat, making sure its meal is warm and dry?" You grinned at him as he stepped even closer, pushing into your personal space. "A guardian devil as it were."
You felt his hands dig into your waist, the sharpness of his claws growing more apparent as Raphael slowly dropped his human guise. "You should know better by now." He rolled his shoulders, stretching his wings to their full extent, the flames of your campfire dancing wildly in the gust of wind the motion created. Your hand slid up between his shoulder blades, the heady scent of musk and cherries filled your nostrils as you felt his teeth on your neck. The devil's voice sent a vibration to your heart. "The fox, rather...luring you in inch by inch until you belong to me."
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saradika · 3 months
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— invisible string
din djarin x vaguely force sensitive!reader
rated e - 1.7k
tags: divergent timeline, soulmate!au, takes place across season 1 & 2, missed connections, the Razor Crest lives, PiV, marking, creampie, magical elements
a/n: for the TS Challenge by @beskarandblasters! This was so fun, thanks so much for hosting this event! 💖 I was so excited to get this song & character
There's something about him, this man.
Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.
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You feel as if you are always out of step.
Too early. And then somehow - just a little bit too late.
As if you've missed something crucial. A prickle on the back of your neck. Eyes scanning the crowds of people as you weave through cities - looking for someone.
As to whom, though - you're never quite sure.
You think it's always been there. A similar sort of feeling that flickers when you're in danger. That was something you had cultivated. Manipulated into a force you can wield. A push and pull, an aid - when you need it. Something you draw from often, during your days as a smuggler.
But you're not sure what to do with this.
The feeling is pushed down on Nevarro.
Contacted for a job, one that had been easy enough. Your goods exchanged in a dingy cantina - a shipment of stolen fuel cells furtively traded to an irritated man that went by Karga. Your eyebrows raised at the charred hole in the man's fine clothes - a half-hearted wonder at how the man was still standing.
The Imperial credits he offers you do not get you far. He's unable to offer you a puck - his trade was in bounty hunting, not smuggling. You're not sure if you'd take one, and the cells are enough to keep his crew afloat for a while. A dead-end for now, but you think - not always.
After, your ship drifts along an unseen track.
To Tatooine this time. A big job for the Hutts that takes you two weeks. Days in the sun spent waiting for the payments to transfer to your account, and so in the meantime - you tinker.
Trading your way up. A broken blaster fixed, exchanged for ship parts. The parts installed, the labor paid for with two, beat-up old speeders.
Only to sell them both to a cocky hot-shot bounty hunter for double their value - his over-blown self-confidence eclipsing the fact that you were absolutely swindling him.
It’s not your problem.
Though here, you can't help but feel the urge to linger. An itch beneath your skin, as if you've missed something, again.
You ignore it. Trading up one more time - swapping Mos Eisley for the sea. The choppy waters of Trask washing away the grit and sand that clings to your skin.
There's always work to be found here - deals to make with the Quarren and Mon Calamari. Those days spent at the inn, with lunches of warm homemade chowder and wrapped in chunky-knit sweaters.
Eyes snagging on a couple that often sits together at lunch. Their features frog-like, affection clear in their soft chatter, the slow blink of their large, black eyes. You imagine it to be a stolen moment - meeting up in the afternoon, too eager to wait until evening to see each other.
It’s nice.
It follows you, back to your room.
You think about them later - the obvious connection. A bone-deep urge to find another that matches a part of you. Something you've never had.
Somehow you know it’s out there.
But it's not time.
The next day, your ship takes off again.
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There's a feeling deep down that for once, you're right where you need to be.
Your path is not guided by a job. Something spinning inside your chest like the point of a compass, your fingers keying coordinates with a mind of their own.
It's not a sea. Not a desert. Not a growing town, slowly rebuilding.
You're taken to a forest. The trees are unlike those you've seen - stretching tall and thin towards the sky. Their leaves sparse, but still filling the space with the sheer number.
There's a village - but you're drawn away from the tall walls. There's nothing inside that you seek. Drawn back to the trees you had seen from above. There's no tracks for you to follow, it's only your own boots pressed into the earth.
But you still go out, day after day.
It's on the third day, as you sit by the edge of a clear, shallow pool, that you hear the crack of branches under boots.
It should frighten you… but it doesn't.
It feels like an inevitability.
Your head turns, and there's a man there. His limbs encased in armor of shining beskar. A Mandalorian, you realize, when your eyes meet the dark visor that bisects his helmet.
"It's you." The words are a flat buzz, through his helmet. Unsurprised, somehow. Just as you are.
And it's him.
There's something about him, this man.
Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.
You're not sure what that something is...
But think you are finally ready to find out.
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His touch is familiar, though you've never known it. Much like everything else, it feels almost destined.
You know he feels it too. A slow circling dance, the weight of his eyes following you from behind the visor. That string inside no longer feels like a leash, but instead - a lifeline.
Finally being able to acknowledge that he has been what you've been orbiting around this whole time. Easing that ever-present ache of loneliness that had always followed you.
For some time, he had thought you would be the one to train Grogu. That perhaps this had been the reason why the fates had pushed you together.
You had tried, and failed. That part of you still too raw, too unfashioned. It lived inside you, but it was something you had been unable to teach another. How could you, when you did not even know the word for what it was?
And as time passed, you realized deep down that you were truly meant to be here now. Not for the before.
An aid at first, of course. You had gone with him to Tython. Traded in your ship, and traveled on the Slave 1. Had faced death by his side, staring into the black chrome of the Dark Troopers.
Had grieved with him, after.
You think this had been your place all along.
This liminal space, in those months that follow.
Giving him something to grab onto. Fingers sinking into flesh, your back hitting the mattress as he follows.
It’s dark, in the belly of his ship. With anyone else your senses would be screaming, a ringing alarm.
But you’ve come to know each room, fingers tracing the cold metal. From the walls, to the bunk, to him - the tips slipping under to tug at the fastenings of his armor.
He is quiet, like he often is now. But you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves. The harsh buzz of his breath through the vocoder, before the light cuts out completely.
Before it’s just him and you.
His knees nudge your thighs wider. Pressing into muscle and flesh, forcing them up and apart. Your fingers twist in his curls, angling your mouth up to meet the kiss that is all teeth and tongue.
Fingers dip down, thick and calloused. Parting you, nudging inside to where you’re wet and waiting. Pumping deep with his thumb pressed snug against the button of your clit - leaving you dizzy and clenching and wondering if he just knew, as well.
You think he did. He does.
And when he works himself inside you, you finally feel full. Ripping a sound from each of you - his rough and swallowed, yours a broken murmur of his name.
Something else given in the dark, on another night akin to this. Pieces of himself peeled back and gifted, only to be carefully wrapped up and buried deep.
The pound of his hips itches at something you’ve been missing. Those hands tugging at your hips, pulling you to meet each harsh thrust. Fingers slipping down to swirl against you again - a spark rising each time you fit together, building swiftly to an inferno.
“Din,” You breathe, as something heavy flickers inside you, just out of reach, “Stars, please. Don’t stop-”
“I won’t,” It’s a low oath, as his cock grinds deep, “I’ve waited too long for you, cyare.”
He wrenches it from you, setting you ablaze. Your is cry loud in the tiny room as you come undone. The wild swirl of your senses narrowing down, until it’s just him. Din’s mouth against your neck, warm breath and teeth nipping marks into your skin - the pleasure flowing from you in pulsing waves, sinking into him.
Making him follow, no more than a dozen thrusts later. A gritted, bitten-back moan of your own name, before his hips are stuttering. Giving back what you passed to him, his cock throbbing inside you, buried deep.
Where he stays, until he’s gone soft. A pang of loss shuddering through you when he slips from between your thighs - expecting him to return to his own bunk.
To leave you, again.
But the mattress dips, next to you. The space narrow, a short sigh when you wiggle too much trying to get comfortable. Hands hooking around your wrists, hauling your hips over his. Settling you down on top of him.
And in the dark - he stays.
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“Should have met you on Tatooine,” Din tells you later that night, unbidden. Letting your legs twine with his, thighs parted to make room for you. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had-”
His words end abruptly, hanging. Both of you thinking about all those moments when time hadn’t lined up. The synchronicity of your movements, just barely nudged out of time.
Both there, during that same moment. If you had stayed another day, maybe that would have been your meeting.
But you had left early, and he had came late.
“We’re here now.” You tell him, chin pressing against his chest. Eyes finding his in the dark, though you cannot see. “Isn’t that enough?”
There’s the brush of his hand along your spine - knuckles, and then fingertips as they unfurl.
“Yes.”
It is enough, for now.
You’re not sure if it’s forever. If, for some reason, you’ll be forced to part again. But tonight, you’re not worried.
Because, if you were to reach inside yourself and pluck that golden string right now - letting it thrum…
You think that he would feel it, too.
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thanks so much for reading!! 💖
cyare - beloved
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miss-daisy04 · 1 month
Note
Since you're asking for a request here's mine! A minho oneshot where him and reader broke up for a couple of months already but then it was hyunjin's birthday so he invited all of his friends including reader. So it was the first time again that the two saw each other and minho even brought a girl with him, but he realized that he was not really over reader yet. Thank you if you ever decide to do this!
neglect - minho
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hello!! hopefully this is close to what you wanted (i suck, so it's far from perfect) but i had really fun writing this! also for anyone wondering most of these were unfinished drafts, and i'm just going through, editing, and posting LMAO.
warnings: break up/get back together?
wordcount: 1.5k
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The apartment felt emptier than usual as Minho moved through the familiar spaces, his footsteps echoing in the silence. It had been a few weeks since you had left, and the absence of your presence lingered like a hollow ache.
Sitting down on the couch, Minho closed his eyes, trying to recall the moments that had led to this unraveling. He had always believed that love was a force that could weather any storm, but lately, it felt like he was grasping at shadows.
The argument that had shattered their fragile peace replayed in his mind like a broken record. Words had been exchanged—hurtful, sharp-edged words that had left wounds too deep to heal in the heat of the moment.
“Maybe we need some time apart,” you had said, your voice tinged with resignation.
Minho remembered the weight of those words, the sinking feeling in his chest as the reality of your suggestion settled in. Time apart—how could time heal what had been broken? But he had agreed, not knowing what else to do.
Minho found himself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. He missed you. Your laughter, your warmth, the way you saw through the walls he had built around himself. But he also understood the need for space, the necessity of stepping back to gain clarity.
Amidst the solitude, Minho sought solace in music—the melodies becoming a refuge for his restless thoughts. Each note carried with it a fragment of his longing, a testament to the love he had feared losing.
One evening, as dusk settled over the city, Minho found himself standing on the rooftop of his building, the city skyline stretching out before him like a tapestry of memories. The wind whispered secrets of forgotten promises, and Minho closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the haunting symphony of the night.
He thought of you—of the way you had looked at him with unwavering faith, of the dreams you had woven together under the starlit sky. The ache in his chest deepened, a silent acknowledgment of the void that had grown in your absence.
Time passed in a blur of routine—days bleeding into nights, each moment a reminder of what once was. Minho tried to fill the void with distractions—late-night drives, impromptu jam sessions with friends, anything to drown out the echoes of your absence.
But amidst the chaos of his attempts to move forward, one truth remained unshakable: he missed you with a depth he hadn’t realized was possible. The weight of his longing became a burden he carried silently, unwilling to confront the vulnerability that lay beneath.
One afternoon, Minho found himself reaching for his phone, his thumb hovering over your contact name. He hesitated, uncertainty gripping him like a vice. What if reaching out only reopened old wounds? What if he wasn’t ready to face the truths that lay buried beneath the surface?
In the end, he set the phone down, the weight of indecision settling like a heavy shroud. Maybe time apart was what you both needed—a chance to find yourselves again, to mend the fractures that had threatened to tear you apart.
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Minho made a silent vow to confront the shadows that lingered within. Love, he realized, was not just about weathering storms—it was about finding the courage to rebuild in the aftermath. And perhaps, in the quiet spaces between heartbeats, there lay a chance for redemption.
Minho turned away from the rooftop, the city lights flickering like distant stars. Somewhere in time, he hoped, there would be a place for the neglect of what once was—a promise of a future yet to unfold.
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The evening air was filled with the soft glow of string lights as Hyunjin’s birthday party unfolded in a cozy rooftop setting. Minho stood near the edge, trying to mask his restlessness with casual conversation. It had been months since he and you parted ways, yet the ache of that decision lingered like an unresolved chord.
Amidst the mingling guests, Minho couldn't help but glance over his shoulder every now and then, anticipating your arrival. The air felt charged with an odd mixture of excitement and apprehension. He had invited you, knowing it might stir dormant feelings, but he couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you.
As the party kicked into full swing, Minho caught sight of you walking in, a vision that stirred up a flurry of emotions. You looked radiant, dressed in a simple yet striking outfit that highlighted your elegance. His heart skipped a beat as he watched you exchange greetings with familiar faces.
Minho's attention was momentarily diverted when a voice interrupted him. "Hey, Minho! Glad you could make it," said a girl beside him. Minho turned to offer a polite smile, but inwardly, his mind was preoccupied. He realized he had barely paid attention to the girl he had brought along—a friend he hoped might distract him from the memories that had been haunting him.
Glancing across the gathering, Minho's eyes found you again. You were engaged in conversation, laughter dancing on your lips, and he felt an unexpected pang in his chest. It was the first time he had seen you in months, and he hadn’t anticipated the wave of longing that would wash over him.
He excused himself from the conversation and made his way over to where you stood. You looked up as he approached, surprise flickering in your eyes before settling into a warm smile. "Minho," you greeted softly.
"Hi," he responded, his voice tinged with a mix of nerves and longing. "It's been a while."
"It has," you agreed, your gaze searching his face.
Minho cleared his throat, suddenly feeling acutely aware of the girl beside him. "Uh, this is Jisoo," he introduced quickly, feeling the need to fill the silence.
Jisoo nodded politely, sensing the tension but choosing not to comment. Minho's eyes briefly met yours, and in that fleeting moment, he felt an unspoken connection, a reminder of what once was.
Throughout the evening, Minho found himself stealing glances at you. Your presence evoked memories that he had tried to bury deep within. The laughter, the familiar way you moved, it was all a bittersweet reminder of what he had lost.
As the night drew to a close, Minho felt a sense of regret gnawing at him. He had thought he was ready to move on, but seeing you again had unsettled something deep within him. Watching you say your goodbyes, he realized that the girl beside him wasn’t the distraction he had hoped for.
Alone in the quiet aftermath of the party, Minho found himself reflecting on the evening. His heart, it seemed, was still tethered to you. And as he replayed the events of the night, he couldn’t deny that perhaps he wasn’t as over you as he had convinced himself to believe.
In the days that followed, Minho couldn’t shake the thoughts of you from his mind. Memories of your time together flooded back with a vividness that caught him off guard. He found himself retracing the steps of your relationship—the inside jokes, the shared dreams, the quiet moments that had once filled his days with a sense of purpose.
One evening, unable to contain his restlessness any longer, Minho decided to reach out. He composed a message, his fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before pressing send.
“Hey, I hope you’re doing well. Can we talk?”
The response came sooner than he had anticipated.
“Of course, Minho. I’ve been thinking about you too.”
They agreed to meet at a quiet cafe—a place that held significance for both of them. As Minho waited nervously, he couldn’t help but wonder what would come of this encounter. Would it be closure, or would it reignite a flame that had never truly extinguished?
When you walked in, Minho’s heart skipped a beat. You looked just as beautiful as he remembered, your smile softening the edges of his anxiety.
“Hi,” you greeted warmly, taking a seat across from him.
“Hey,” Minho replied, unable to hide the mixture of emotions in his voice.
The conversation flowed naturally, like rediscovering an old melody. You spoke of the months apart—of the challenges and the moments of growth. Minho listened intently, realizing with each word that he had never truly let go.
“I brought someone to Hyunjin’s party,” Minho confessed eventually, his gaze searching yours.
You nodded, a flicker of understanding in your eyes. “I saw, you introduced me, no?"
“It was a mistake,” Minho admitted quietly. “Being there with her made me realize that I’m not ready to move on.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and Minho waited for your response with bated breath.
“I understand,” you replied softly. “I’ve had my own share of realizations.”
The cafe grew quiet around them, the world outside fading into insignificance. In that moment, Minho felt a glimmer of hope, a chance to revisit what had been left unfinished between you.
As they parted ways that evening, Minho carried with him a renewed sense of purpose. The path ahead was uncertain, but he knew one thing for sure: some neglections were meant to be embraced, not silenced. And perhaps, just perhaps, your story was far from over.
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i hope you enjoyed it! if you did, please show admiration of my work by liking/reblogging/sharing/commenting! it really shows me how i am doing as a writer ♡
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la-sera · 5 months
Note
Hi Sera!! I saw that you were looking for some new Downfall Duo content, so I wrote you a little something. It’s short but I hope it helps lift your spirits a bit <333
It’s a calm night, for once.
Hyrule gazes into the flickering flames, letting his brother’s voices drift around him like floating fairies. He is too tired to join in tonight. But merely listening is enough. Being here with them, being safe and full and warm, fills him with a happiness little else conjures.
It’s like the magic of his sisters — all softly sweet, precious, mysterious. Blink and you’ll miss it.
So, he keeps his heavy eyelids open. Because never in a million years did Hyrule think he would have something like this.
Off to the side, Wild and Twilight and Time bicker about something, even as they sit close. Their voices are light and teasing. Smiles rest on worn faces.
The two younger heroes have broken through the older hero’s quiet cautiousness. Their grins tell of their pride in doing so.
Wind and Warriors snuggle not far off. Warriors is telling a story and every so often, Wind breaks in with a question or exclamation.
Four is close by, pressed against Sky’s side, a book in his hand and his ears perked to hear the captain’s tale. The Skyloftian works quietly away at the block of wood in his hands.
Which leaves Legend.
As soon as they had finished setting up camp, the veteran had not-so-subtly situated himself beside Hyrule. And now, as if on cue, his head thunks softly against Hyrule’s shoulder.
He looks down, barely suppressing a giggle at the sight of the veteran propped against him. He had relaxed as soon as he had sat down, but in this moment he is practically asleep.
Eyes half-lidded, body relaxed, Legend watches their brothers with a lazy smile on his face.
Seeing him like this is a special thing not lost on the traveler.
He trusts you, something inside Hyrule whispers. A grin tugs at his lips.
“Don’ laugh,” Legend murmurs, just the barest tinge of irritation in his tone. “‘M tired after all that walking.”
“I wasn’t gonna laugh!” Hyrule retorts. Quickly, he shoves down the chuckles still pressing at his throat.
Legend is scowling now, though he looks no less sleepy for it.
…Or content. He cuddles in closer and Hyrule rests his head atop the veteran’s.
“Were too. I can see it on your face, Rulie. You find my exhaustion…comical.”
Hyrule’s grin grows. “Okay, maybe a little bit.”
Legend closes his eyes, a victorious smirk on his lips.
“Knew it.”
Hyrule doesn’t reply. He is growing sleepy now, and is more than content to merely let a comfortable silence blanket them.
A wisp of his magic drifts toward Legend without conscious thought. Gently, protectively, it wraps around him, like an embrace. The veteran relaxes further beneath its touch.
“Hey, Ledge,” Hyrule murmurs after a long thread of peaceful moments.
Legend shifts, slightly. “Hm?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this but…” He sighs, a soft smile on his lips. “I’m glad that we got to meet.
“I’m glad that you’re my brother.”
There is a long, drawn out pause. Then, Legend replies in a voice thick with something other than sleep.
“Yeah…me too, Rule.” He moves once more, maneuvering into a more comfortable position. “Now, if you’re done with the mushy stuff, I’m goin’ to sleep.”
Hyrule grins, knowingly. “And you’re gonna use me as a pillow?”
“Seems that way.”
Rolling his eyes, Hyrule chuckles. “Fine.”
Really, though, being the veteran’s pillow isn’t so bad of a fate (yes, even now that Wind and Wild are creeping over to snap a few photos for future blackmail). Maybe, Legend will actually be able to sleep tonight.
And maybe, just maybe…so will he.
OH MY. Did you write this on purpose for me? Sorry for disturbing your time, you didn't have to do that. I really thank you, I like this. So much. I read it while lying down, and maybe I read it more than 5 times. I miss Downfall Duo.
I got the idea and immediately made a fanart from your fic. Hope you like it too.
Once again, thank you, I am happy with this fic you gave me. this gives me comfort.
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hashbrowpn · 2 months
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──★ ˙WHAT ARE YOU? ̟ !?
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YOU WEREN'T AWARE that mermaids, sirens, all those, truly existed. After all, you spent nearly all your years at sea, so it was only right you could assume so ... but he certainly proved you wrong.
NOTES: dont mind me just walking by .. *accidentally drops my bag full of pirate!reader x merman!muichiro*
You stand with your heart beating fast, you can hear it in your ears. Waves crash over the deck, wracking the ship. Rain pelts down like stones, accompanied by lightning that lights the gray  and stormy night up like an explosion. 
You reach into your pocket for a bar of chocolate to compose yourself.
You see something in the corner of your eye.
Whipping your head around, you lean over at the railings, and you catch sight of it again.
It was no fish, you were sure. Because no fish had eyes so... 
...human.
 It gazes up at you with suspicion, and dives off.
"Hey!" inclining yourself further, you desperately search for this divine creature.
You nearly fall over the ledge, but someone catches your wrist.
"Careful," Shinobu warned, her voice both a whisper and a yell over the noise. You stopped to look at her, her crisp white shirt, adorned with intricate lace at the cuffs, frayed brown trousers and heavy black boots. She gives you a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes. You nod, swallowing, and mutter a "Thank you,"
You slip out of her grasp and your eyes rove over the raging sea, but your train of thought is broken with a shout.
"Guys! there's a leak!" Mitsuri cries as she scrambles to look for something to patch up the giant hole in the wooden floors. 
You swear under your breath as you try to desperately wrack your brains for something to help, glancing over at the three little girls and Aoi whimpering in the corner as Shinobu consoles them, heart wrenching.
Kanao comes to help as her hands fumble clumsily at the makeshift she had crafted to patch it up, but water still seeped through. As your chest tightens with anxiety, there came an ear-splitting crack. The three little girls screamed. Overhead, the lightning still roars, and below, the waves still crash. 
You turn to Mitsuri in panic. "Did you hear that?"
Mitsuri looked at you slowly, green eyes as big as saucers, but before she could even open her mouth to speak, the floorboards beneath you gives away, and you fall into the icy embrace of the sea.
The sea breeze is cold, and it leaves a taste of salt in your mouth. The sand tickles your feet as you kick your way around it. 
You look around. Ah, you're dreaming.
The ocean's surface shimmers like a canvas painted with the liquid gold of the sun. It's so tranquil, so peaceful. You let out a relieved sigh.
The sea washes a few shells at the shore. As you take one, it's beauty so enchanting, you pocket it and trudge through the sand and into the peaceful waters.
But it isn't as expected.
The water is cold, too cold for your liking. But as you try to get out, you find the seaweeds beneath you had found their way up your feet and shackled your ankles.
The sky turns gray again.
The seaweeds drag you back, and you cry out for help, screaming until your throat gives out, until the water in up to your neck—
"Hey."
"Aah!" you wake up cold but sweating, shaking, covered in sea weed, sand, and God knows what. "Eugh!" you wail after eyeing an odd looking thing stuck to your finger, and shaking it off violently, before your eyes settled on...
what in the world?
"What the-?" you shuffle backwards, realizing you were on shore. The sunkissed sand sticks to you as you back away. 
It gazed at you. Hypnotizing eyes, eyes the color of the sea on a beautiful afternoon. And oh, hair like a black canvas fading into the same color as his wonderous eyes. Your eyes drifed to his body... a tail instead of two human legs. He was leaning on his arm, his other half in the water.
You stammer, "What... What are you? are you what i think you are...?"
He squints his eyes in annoyance, and merely plops back into the sea. 
"Hey! Hey wait!" you scurry to reach for him— and grab his wrist. You struggle to hold on, but he struggles to escape.
"Let go of me," he hisses, pulling harder. "You can talk," you say, flabbergasted.
"Are you underestimating me, human?" he seethes, then lets his head dip underwater and dives. You yelp, refusing to let go of him, even if that meant getting dragged into the sea.
It wasn't exactly a refreshing experience. 
Being drenched in sweat and being in ice cold water. You were sure to catch a cold after this, well, if there even was an after this.
You're losing air, but as soon as you plan to let go, he brings you back to shore again, pushing you into the sand. "Go." he says, irritation obvious as he shakes your hand off. "If you bug me one more time, i'm drowning you."
You're simply awestruck, at loss of words. He's beautiful.
You lean forward to touch his face, but he turns away forcibly. "What do you think you're doing?" he grouses. "I should have never saved you. I knew humans were stupid."
You try to speak. You can't speak.
It didn't quite matter where you were right now. You were focused on him.
He shakes his head and turns to leave, but you shout, "Wait!"
You undid the button of your pocket, and was ever so relieved when you took the chocolate bar in your hand. "U-uh, do you eat-?"
He eyed it just like how he eyed you when you were on the ship. "What's that?"
Before you could even answer, he snatched it from you and began chewing at the wrapper. "No wait, you have to..." you gestured to him to peel it off.
He took a bite into the chocolate and looked simply taken aback. "What is this?"
"Uhm... chocolate."
In a few seconds, he had already eaten the whole thing. "Do you have more?" he leaned in and began to search your trousers, palming at the pockets. "No, wait," you swatted his hand away. He looked at you, offended.
"I'll give you another if..." you swallowed, head spinning. Clearly, you weren't thinking straight. "If you tell me what you are, and who you are."
He raised a brow. "What I am?... Who I am?..." 
"Yes."
"...I don't quite remember."
You just look at him with several questions. But another more important one pops up. You swear under your breath. "Oh no, the ship, the others!"
You stand up, and you immediately almost fall over from dizziness. "Where even am I?" 
"I've forgotten too." 
You shake your head at him, annoyed. "Whatever. Now I'm stuck in God knows where with some Ariel asking me for my only food."
Massaging your temples, you sit down at the shore where the water washes away at your leather boots, and you reach into the cuffs of your sleeves, stained with dirt and sand, for a small piece of chocolate. You peel off the wrapper and bite on it, staring off distantly.
"Hey!" The merman calls, looking ever so photogenic in the water. He swims over to you, but before he could, you eat the last small piece of chocolate. His brows furrow as he looks at you as if it were the end of the world when you popped the last piece in your mouth. "How greedy," he muses. "I have to take it from you forcefully, then."
He leans over and takes your chin, and presses his lips against yours. 
It breaks your train of thought, and you yelp and try to pull him away, tangling your fingers in his wet locks, but he pushes you closer to him. 
Finally, he pulls away from you, licking his lips discreetly. He savours the chocolate he stole from you, and his brows lift a little as if having a realization. "I remember my name now," he says, gaze drifting off. "Tokito Muichiro. You've asked me that, yes?" 
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Text
Kiss Me If You Can || Part 2
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Character: Bucky Barnes x Thief!Reader
Words Count:  1,214
Summary: What happens when Bucky meet his first love the phantom thief for the second time?
Part 1,- Part 2, Part 3,-
Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓
Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 
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The first time Bucky got his heart broken was when he was in junior high school. He was playing the arcade game with Steve when he saw Y/N and her friends at the cafe.
As usual, he always watches her from afar.
Then he saw a boy close to her; a bold and brave boy approached Y/N, capturing her attention in a way Bucky had only dreamed of.
The intimate kiss on her cheek unfolded before his eyes like a scene from a cruel play. Bucky didn’t remember what happened next. He went home and cried. He didn’t leave the house for a week. Even Steve can’t get him out of his bedroom.
Bucky realized that Y/N was out of his league and needed to change to stand beside her. He always watching her walk away.
*********
Years go by, and once again, he watches her slipping away. And the most absurd thing is she became a phantom thief. It turns out he doesn’t know a thing about Y/N.
After the chaos she made at the army, they want to catch her. She became their first enemy.
Now, Bucky has another chance to catch her again. Today, his team got told they needed to guard a V.I.P. at the masquerade ball.
Because there’s a rumor the phantom thief will appear at the party, the army sends Bucky and the team to catch the thief.
Bucky didn’t tell anyone that the thief was his first love.
Y/N was right; he couldn’t imagine her inside a prison cell. He can’t let anyone else catch her beside him.
*****
The ballroom sparkled with lights as Bucky and his team guarded a VIP named Richard Harrington. Richard was a rich guy with a big attitude. He couldn't stop bragging about a super expensive diamond necklace up for auction.
"This necklace is worth more than your wildest dreams, Lieutenant. I doubt you've ever seen something this classy," Richard said with a smirk, acting like he was the most critical person in the room. He looked down on everyone, making it clear he thought he was better than them.
As he went on about the necklace, his rudeness showed. He didn't care about anyone else, treating the staff like they were beneath him.
Bucky had to keep his cool, but Richard's mean attitude set the tone for a night that promised to be full of tension and surprises.
As Bucky and his team scanned the room for the elusive phantom thief, Richard Harrington had a different idea. With a sly grin, he pointed to a woman across the room, claiming she was an important guest, and demanded Bucky to dance with her.
"This is Isabella," Richard said, gesturing toward the woman. "She's someone you should be honored to dance with, Lieutenant. Make sure you don't mess it up."
Isabella, the mysterious woman, wore a striking dress that shimmered like the night sky, her mask adding an air of secrecy to her appearance. She approached Bucky with a confident smile, defying the unspoken rules of social hierarchy.
Their dance was like a rhythm of unspoken understanding, a chemistry that flowed effortlessly. Bucky felt a sense of familiarity, a nagging feeling that lingered at the edge of his consciousness.
"Why so intense, Bucky?" 
Bucky was surprised when he recognized Y/N's voice beneath the disguise. Once again, this woman caught him off guard.
As they moved to the music, Bucky felt a knot tighten in his stomach, realizing Y/N's presence beneath the disguise.
Y/N, in the persona of Isabella, threw a playful remark his way. "Quite the dancer, Lieutenant."
Bucky, attempting nonchalance, replied, "I've had smoother partners."
She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Maybe you need someone to keep you on your toes."
Bucky said, "I've had enough surprises for one night."
Her laughter, a melody amidst the dance, echoed in the dimly lit hall. "Why so serious, Bucky? Afraid of a little excitement?"
Bucky, masking his inner turmoil, quipped, "Just trying to survive the night."
Y/N, with a playful glint in her eye, replied, "Surviving can be overrated, Bucky. Sometimes, you just have to embrace the chaos."
Bucky, smirking, retorted, "Embrace chaos, huh? Let's see how chaotic things can get."
Y/N laughed. “Careful what you wish for, my dear Bucky.”
After she said this, the lights turned off, and everything went dark.
Y/N also slipping away from Bucky grasp.
Every guest immediately panicked, but Richard, as the host party, assured the guest that everything was alright.
The chaos erupted as the lights flickered back to life, unveiling the empty pedestal where the diamond necklace had rested. Richard erupted in fury, pointing fingers at the phantom thief.
Unfazed by the commotion, Bucky directed his team to search among the guests. The elusive thief had cleverly blended in, using the same disguise as the innocent attendees.
While the others inspected the bewildered guests, Bucky ascended to the top floor, determined to catch the culprit. As he reached the rooftop, he was met with the sight of Y/N, ready to make her daring escape.
This time, however, she wore a wingsuit, a sleek silhouette against the city lights, poised to vanish into the night.
With a smirk, she waved the stolen diamond necklace in front of Bucky, the glint of mischief evident in her eyes. "Impressed, Bucky?"
Bucky, a mixture of frustration and admiration, couldn't help but respond, "You enjoy making a spectacle of everything, don't you?"
Y/N chuckled, her fingers tracing the contours of the necklace. "At least I gave you a good chase, right?"
Clenching his fists, Bucky shot back, "This game of yours will catch up with you, sooner or later."
As Y/N turned to make her daring escape, Bucky, fueled by a sudden surge of boldness, blurted out, "Next time I catch you, you won't be leaving my bed."
The unexpected declaration left Y/N momentarily speechless, her usual quick-witted responses failing her.
Caught off guard, she stammered, "Umm, well... I guess, bye?" With a flustered glance back at Bucky, she activated her wingsuit and soared into the night, leaving Bucky on the rooftop.
Bucky scoffed as he watched Y/N disappear into the night. Despite her successful escape, a sense of satisfaction lingered within him. His unexpected declaration made him feel a small victory in catching her off guard. 
His words held a truth that echoed in his mind – the next encounter wouldn't be a game.
*****
At Y/N's hideout:
After safely landing on the ground and delivering the stolen diamond necklace to her client, Y/N returned home. Bucky's words echoed in her mind, "Next time I catch you, you won't be leaving my bed."
Embarrassment flushed through her, and her heart raced at realizing she might have pushed the boundaries too far. Y/N acknowledged that she had always seen Bucky as a younger brother, especially given his close friendship with Steve. However, something had shifted.
Sighing, Y/N muttered, "What kind of mess have I gotten myself into?"
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Part 1,- Part 2, Part 3,-
Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓
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siriusleee · 6 months
Text
iv. antibiotics
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Zombie Apocalypse AU | SIMON RILEY x f!READER
↳ SUMMARY: The world is trying to knit itself back together after fracturing apart. You're trying to put yourself back together with it; Simon Riley is just trying to stay alive. ↳ WORD COUNT: 2.6K ↳ TAGS: mentions of cannibalism, mentions of shooting things, mentions of dying. smut to come. canon typical violence to come. additional tags to come as the story progresses. female reader. no mentions of "your name". reader is given a nickname later on. nc-17. fandom-blind friendy. ↳ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the lovely anon who asked for a scene from an apocalypse au, and this idea was born. If you'd like to donate to my Ko-Fi, I would appreciate it. ↳ TAG LIST: There will not be a tag list for this story, as Tumblr has issues with letting me tag people. To get notifications of updates, please subscribe on AO3 or turn on notifications for my blog.
additional chapters | ao3
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Ghost forces you to crawl up the side of the ravine ahead of him - it’s grueling and painful. Your nails are nearly ripped from their beds when you finally claw your way from the mud and roots, Ghost boosting himself up behind you with a grunt. You collapse onto the ground, the pain in your body compounding with each breath that you take. Ghost’s hands grasp at the back of your filthy shirt, pulling you to your feet. You don’t think that you can move anymore - your muscles are threatening to seize -  but Ghost pushes you forward, forcing you to take one step after the other. The walk back to the cabin is long; you didn’t think that you’d run this far, and by the time the two of you make it back to the cabin, Ghost nearly has to carry you in by the elbow. When the two of you crash through the cabin door, you can’t keep your feet underneath you anymore. You fall to your knees, pain lancing through your kneecaps and wrists that catch your body weight against the wooden floors. Ghost drags you towards the small couch you’d been on just hours before waiting for your chance to escape. He sets you down roughly onto the broken-down cushions, one hand holding both of your wrists with one of his own. He bends down to be level with you, mud splattering the bit of skin that you can see, his brown eyes like two pieces of flint. “If you try to run again,” he says, voice even and low, “I will let them capture you and I won’t come to save you.” You nod wordlessly, and the lines around his eyes harden before he speaks again. “We leave in just a few hours; you should try to sleep some.” You didn’t think you would sleep, but the sound of slamming jogs you from a thick twilight you didn’t know you’d fallen into. Ghost stands at the table, rifle slung over his shoulder, pack on his back. On the table, your bow lies with one arrow across it. His message is loud and clear: you get one shot if you try to kill him. You’d better be successful with it. You unfold yourself from the small couch, mud and dirt falling from you in a shower. It takes so much of what’s in you to move forward, towards the table. Your pack sits where you left it yesterday, and when you pick it up, shoulder screaming, you notice the extra weight from your canteen. It sloshes heavily as you slide your stiff arms through the straps. Ghost must have filled it last night. The idea that he filled your canteen for you itches at a level of annoyance you try not to pay attention to as you take up your bow.
The two of you don’t speak to each other as you fall in line behind Ghost, your bow held like you were taught: loose enough that your muscles don’t cramp, but tight enough that you’re ready to go at any moment. The forest stays slumbering as the two of you traverse beneath the treetops. As the sun rises, the sounds of birds tittering fill the forest. The sun has barely moved in the sky before you have to stop, feet faltering beneath you. Ghost pauses just head, head turned slightly towards you as you lean against the rough bark of one of the trees. “Sorry I just-” you try to wet your lips, but your tongue is like sandpaper. “I just need a moment.” Your heart feels like it’s going to burst from your throat; with trembling fingers, you pull your canteen to your lips. When you drink, water dribbles down your chin and onto your shirt; you wipe it away with a freezing hand. Ghost doesn’t turn toward you, his own hands wrapped around his rifle. By the time you’re able to move again, you can feel his impatience rolling off of him in waves, but he keeps his mouth shut. “Where are we going?” You ask, the stretch of silence unnerving you. Your throat is still raw, still sore from the sudden increase in speaking you’ve been doing over the past two days. It’s a wonder to you: that you even still know how to speak after so long of silence. “You’ll see when we get there.” It’s a maddening response, your fingers flex around your bow weakly, but you keep in step with him. You’d made a game of it after a while, trying to line each of your steps with his so that if anyone follows they’ll think it was just one of you. You needed something to keep you distracted. The walk is torture, heat creeping through your body, each injury still so incredibly painful. The forest floor inclines upwards, pulling at each of the bones in your body with sharp little wires, threatening to pull you down into the dirt — more than once your feet falter beneath you. The incline grows too rough, and a wave of nausea rolls over your body. There’s not even a second to ask Ghost to stop before you’re heaving, bent in half. There’s nothing in your stomach but bile, and a bit of water - you leave it in a puddle on the forest floor. “You alright?” Ghosts asks, irritation coloring his voice. You nod, spitting on the ground to try and get the acrid taste of stomach acid out of your mouth. “Just - tired.” You don’t want to admit to him how you feel, worried that if you do he’ll leave you here to the mercy of the Biters and Mother Nature. One arrow is going to get you nowhere, you need a real chance to fight before you try and run again.
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The razor wire is the first thing you see, rising heavily in the distance. You slow, trying to make out the shape of the walls, the jut of the towering buildings in the distance. Backlight by the struggling moon, the shapes are familiar enough to tug at memories buried deep.
“Is this a military base?” You ask, exhausted. Ghost’s steps hadn’t stopped once after the farmhouse shrunk behind the two of you. Neither of you had spoken in the intermediate time. 
Ghost doesn’t answer you, just slings his rifle onto his shoulders and steps into the clearing. You hesitate; a flash catches your eye and they’re immediately drawn to one of the sniper towers. You can just make out the shape of a person there, but it’s hard to see anything other than their form in the darkness.
“Are you coming?”
Ghost’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you step towards him, palms suddenly sweaty. 
A million questions are rattling around inside your brain, and each of them is replaced by another as the sound of rattling chains and metal fills the air. Materializing in the night forest, a gate three times as tall as you appear like a fairy house. The hunk iron and chain link pull open just enough for one man to squeeze through, the barrels of guns pointed out in the space. 
Ghost lifts his hand in a familiar greeting; the barrels don’t fall, but turn to you. Ghost says something, but you can’t hear him over your thoughts. He slips through the gate, and for half a second you panic that they’ll slam it shut behind him and leave you outside. 
But it stays open just long enough for you to slip through. Rough hands grab at you, pulling the bow from your hand, shoving you in a circle as you try to make out individual faces, pulling roughly at your clothes. Ghost’s voice barks out orders - you try to turn towards the sound of him, but a fire erupts at the base of your skull and midnight settles around you.
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Soft fingers trace the curve of your hip; in the early morning light you can’t make out his face, but you recognize the planes of him beneath your fingertips. You’d know him anywhere, every mole and scar memorized until you could draw them from memory.
“Are you awake yet?”
His voice is easy in the early morning - sweeter than he usually sounds. You can’t help the smile that sketches itself onto your face as you turn away from the bright light streaming in through the window. 
“Been awake.”
His fingers tangle in the soft downy hair at the base of your hair, pulling your head back gently until your neck is exposed. The warmth of his breath dances at the pulse point beneath your jaw, and you jump. His chuckle rumbles through his chest and into yours.
Nipping at the tender flesh of his neck, his hands trace down until he’s gripping your forearm. You try to pull away, to reach up and touch him, but his grip grows bruising. You try to pull away, but his nails dig into your arm, stinging until you feel tears start at the corner of your eye. 
“What are you doing?” Panic starts to color your voice as you struggle to get away. He doesn’t answer, twisting the tender flesh of your arm harder until you scream.
The rawness of your throat wakes you up. There’s a rush in your ears as you fight against whatever is holding you down. The world spins around you, a nauseating swirl of brown and gray - faintly you hear someone shouting at you; your fist connects with the hard outline of a jaw before you’re pinned down.
It takes seconds, hours - maybe days - for the room to stop spinning around you, and the voices become clear. 
Squinting against the bright light shining down on your face, you can make out the face of an older woman, her hair cropped close to her scalp and an ugly red mark blossoming against her cheek. She’s talking to you slowly, but it’s still difficult to make out the words; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s getting tired of repeating herself.
“Do you remember your name?”
You turn away from the light, expecting to see someone else at your side holding you down. But it’s her hands pinning your arms to your side with a strength that doesn’t fully match the wrinkles on her forehead.
Ungluing your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you speak - faintly remembering the name you told Ghost. 
“Dove. My name’s Dove.”
The set of her tongue against her teeth tells you that she’s not happy with you, but you can’t bring yourself to care around the sledgehammer pounding behind your eyes. Her grip loosens by a centimeter. 
“I need you to calm down or I’ll have to restrain you again.”
She speaks with the kind of smooth authority that tells you she’s not afraid to pin you down again, that there’s no worries about who would win if she tried.
You nod painfully - it feels like the movement will shatter your spine if you move too fast. The woman retracts her hands, one moving underneath your shoulder to help you sit up. You grit your teeth together to keep from throwing up on her feet or screaming in her face. 
When the world rights itself around you, you take a second to look around. Despite the darkness and the ambient dingyness, you can tell you’re in some sort of medical treatment. The corners of each of the beds are tucked in with meticulous hospital corners and empty IV stands are lined up mechanically against the wall. Beside the bed you’re sitting on is a little metal tray with a manual blood pressure cuff on it. The only light in the room blazes above you.
The woman stands in front of you, arms crossed on her chest. 
“I’m Doc,” she states, pulling a little stool over with her foot, and sitting down carefully on it. The wheel squeaks horribly. “You were in rough shape - do you remember how you got that way?”
The image of a skeleton mask floats in your vision; you press the heels of your palm into your eyes to try and press it away.
“Ghost.” His name sits like a stone at the tip of your tongue.
Doc chuckles, picking up the blood pressure cuff from the little table. 
“You’re not the sorriest-looking person he’s ever dragged in here if that makes you feel better.”
On instinct, you extend your arm so she can slip the cuff around your arm. The little needle jumps with each pulse of the bulb; you watch it like you know what it’s supposed to say. When it’s almost too painful to bear, she releases the pressure and when it’s back to 0 she pulls it off of your arm depositing it back onto the table.
“Well you’ve got a cracked rib for sure, and probably a few other fractures based on the bruising. And you’re malnourished. There’s an infection creeping up your calf muscle; Ghost seemed to have walked you half to death.”
You think of how you threw up on the trail, how each step seemed to feel like a march towards death.
“You could say that.”
She sighs, wiping her hands against her pants. “Well you’re going to be down for a while don’t over-exert yourself. I’ll have the mess hall notified to give you one and a half portions for a few weeks until you don’t look like a walking skeleton and you’ll have to report here each day for your antibiotics.”
You nod your head like you understand what she’s saying. The thought of antibiotics is so foreign to you, so odd in contrast to the world you knew outside. There’s a look in her eye you can’t discern, and you don’t try as she pushes herself to a standing position, the little wheeled stool rolling away behind her.
“Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”
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Character Peek
The Spirit Maiden
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Since there has been a lot of time going into the main character art posts, I've decided to do these to at least get some consistent posting in the meantime! :) Closeups and more details under "read more." Click them for better quality!
Her Grace, Lady Zelda! This is the Zelda seen in Skyward Sword, a knight in training who found herself fighting a war she had no idea was her own. She recently turned 17 during the events of Skyward Sword, but now is 19. Her birthday is July 16! Zelda likes to spend a lot of time sewing (mostly making dolls) and studying this era's wildlife on the Surface. She is often plagued by nightmares of Hylia's war and glimpses of Link's battle with Demise, as her soul was within the Demon King at the time.
After Skyward Sword, Zelda decided to live on the surface. When Link agreed to join her, he confessed there was something else he meant to talk to her about (the same thing she tried to tell him before Ghirahim sent his tornado). They shared their first kiss beneath the light of the Triforce and above their new home - between earth and sky. They have been together ever since and have formed a small settlement with the friends they made on the Surface World, which Link has nicknamed Hyrule as a running joke. Zelda is hoping such a pun doesn't stick... but it's what everyone in Skyloft calls their small home now.
Now that her father has let her origins as the goddess spill, her old friends have begun to treat her somewhat differently. It didn't sit right with Hylia long ago, and it certainly doesn't sit right now... She has to accept that part of her, doesn't she? There have even been suggestions of her taking a role as the high priestess and ruler of the settlement below. After all, they say, a goddess is most fit to guide humanity. But must they forget that now - and for as long as they've known her - she is one of them?
Thank you to my friend @cherrysalsa for the idea of goddess plume earrings! They are SO cute. Thank you for letting me implement them!!!! <3
Closeups + Alts:
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AU Info:
In Another Life follows a fued of the Goddesses. Tired of the cycle caused by Demise's Curse, the three come to an agreement: they will break the boundaries of space and time and allow the fued to be settled by their Champions. If one seeking destruction, chosen by Din, holds victory, then the world will be erased and built again without the demon's influence. If the heroes blessed by Farore and the princess blessed by Nayru succeed in returning their foe to their seal, then the world will live on. Farore hopes too to end the cycle, but Nayru believes it not to be her place.
The eternal bond between Hylia and her chosen hero will be tested as Hyrule's branches in history reach out to them through broken mirrors. They have found each other in every lifetime - but will their unbreakable connection be enough to save existence itself?
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infinitegalahad · 10 months
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AMERICAN PROMETHEUS AND HIS ATHENA - CHAPTER 5
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Pairing: J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Identifying! Reader Summary: You and Robert, of course, were a couple. A serious one at that; no more games, judgment, hiding, and dancing around the idea. But it came with its many hardships. Word Count: 6.0k Warnings: LOTS. Please read. Infidelity, messy relationships, minor blood loss, loss of child, cursing, and minor sexism (not from Oppie). Please read and heed with caution. Notes: THAT HAT. OMG. MY HUSBAND IS LOOKING SO FINE THERE. oops sorry for being horny on the writing account, next topic! folks, buckle up, this is a lot! not only is the longest chapter, but its got a lottttt of drama happening. we're talking infidelity, marriage proposals, trinity, kitty being a bad bitch, edward teller in sunscreen, my drunk writing, groves being an ass hole and most importantly; TWO sex scenes. apparently, y'all loved my smut, and i appreciate your compliments! there's one more scene to come *insert winky face* mwahahha. i also know i said this is ten chapters, but this story is nearing it's ending, so there's one more real chapter. I'm going to try concluding the story within the week. I've been packing for school and I've got a long drive on Thursday. I'm done with most of my packing, so I will try to release the final chapter tomorrow. the epilogue will be much shorter. this has been one hecka of a ride, and the next chapter will most likely be a lot of drama. once again, your support has been amazing, thank you all for everything! <3 Taglist: @forgottenpeakywriter @queenshelbyy @chloriine36 @kodzuvk Taglist | Masterlist
It was five in the morning, and yet it didn’t feel close to it. The sky was pitch black with not a star to be soon. The only light of the source came from the dim light bulbs and the headlights of the cars that surrounded you. You lay on your stomach beneath an uncomfortable mat with your hand edging the corners of the binoculars you held, the other hand reaching for the pain of sunglasses to block the light that would hopefully come from the test bomb. 
Two years. Two years of potential hard work gone to nothing.
Awaiting the announcement of the detention, you laid and, in an attempt to hide your anxiety, thought about how the hell you ended up in the middle of New Mexico, working on some secret project for the government, and what it took to get you to be a small part in the Manhattan Project. 
You and Robert, of course, were a couple. A serious one at that; no more games, judgment, hiding, and dancing around the idea. But it came with its many hardships. 
The first straw was Kitty. 
She was much older, and from what you heard, extremely intimidating. While you respected and honored her, you also wanted to avoid her, as you felt that she did not like you at all. Robert had told her he was in a relationship with a “young” woman, emphasizing “young”, and Kitty read him the riot act. Robert thought she was overreacting, but you sympathized and understood. All you wanted was to be respectful, and honestly, avoid her at all costs. 
But of course, that didn’t happen. After one of your Friday sessions, which ended in Robert and you making love, you slept at this house and stayed until Sunday most times. You even had your own toothbrush and brush, using the feminine bathing products and flowery perfumes that Robert had gifted you. Hatomi had noticed and always said you smelled good. She had been having a possible affair with your French Literature teacher, but that was a story for another time. 
That one morning, you woke up with Robert’s arm on your waist, and a child staring directly at you. You identified him as Peter, as he was the spitting image of Robert, minus the parts that very much looked like Kitty. Blinking rapidly, you thought it was some bad dream, but the broken truck and bright, sad blue stare made you realize that Kitty was here with her and Robert’s children. 
You and Kitty didn’t take long to meet, with her being dressed and you being butt naked. 
Both of you had to smack Robert awake, who was appalled at the situation. There stood his children in front of a girl who was closer in age to them than their father and a very pissed-off mother. Naturally, this needed a very long conversation. 
Kitty glared at you while sitting on the couch with Robert’s shirt on. She, like Robert, smoked a cigarette; her cold eyes burning into your skin. Robert reached over to grab your hand, which you slapped away. 
“So you’re his student?”
You gulped and looked down, nodding. 
“And you’re getting your bachelor’s degree in what? The arts?”
“Maybe a Bachelor’s in both the arts and science, ma’am.”
She blows a puff of smoke into your face, making it feel very directed. As she gets up to get a drink, she eyes you and turns to Robert. 
“At least she’s smart.” 
As much as you really want to leave, Robert insists you stay too well, impress Kitty, and show her you can cook, provide, and care for him. It infuriates you, and as much as you look at the door, you force yourself to stay. You don’t have any clothes there, so you’re forced to wear Robert’s white oxford shorts and bottom lingerie shorts while working around Kitty. She blatantly asked if you had anything besides Robert’s clothes to wear, and you said no. She sighed. 
As Robert plays with his children, Kitty and you decide to make dinner, together. She wants to make Robert’s favorite, which you know by heart; chicken, boiled potatoes, and peas. You tell her, at least advise her, that Robert now likes his potatoes mashed and his chicken with pomegranate seeds on it. Kitty holds a large knife, and you swear that she looks like she wants to stab you with it. 
“Where do you get them from?” She coldly asks as she pours milk into the bowl to stir the potatoes. 
You look up from sauteeing the chicken with garlic and respond, “Get?”
“The Pomegranate.”
“Oh, his garden,” Your face begins to grow red, “He didn’t know he had pomegranate’s in his garden–”
“Until you told him,” Kitty interrupts. 
She stops cutting, and you stop mixing the chicken. There’s a shared silence between the two of you; filled with thousands of questions. 
You scratch behind your ear and sigh, gathering yourself before you respond. 
“Yes. He likes them a lot. I noticed Toni likes them, too. However, I shouldn’t–”
“You care.”
‘What?”
“You care about him a lot. I can see that,” Kitty goes on about. Once she’s done mixing the potatoes, she goes to the sink to clean the mixer. You can swear you hear sniffle. 
“There’s no other reason why you would be using him, y/n. I can’t think of one because there’s none. You’re troubled, yet good. You may be young and naive, but you care about Robert. You take care of him, and I, well–”
Kitty can’t finish her sentence. She drops the mixer and tries to hide her contained sobs and hunching over the sink, but you notice. You walk over to try and comfort her, but Robert’s not far. His voice echoes along with the laughter of two children. Hearing this, Kitty pulls herself together and sniffles. She walks past you with red eyes. You want to ask, but you don’t.
You learn, through numerous sources, that Kitty did not hate you, nor was jealous. She, according to one person, adored you. You found that hard to believe, but every time you sent the children gifts,s he made sure to write you an apology note. 
However, while you made room for Kitty, you utterly refused to make room for Jean Tatlock. 
At that point in your relationship, you and Robert had been going on relatively strong. He’s your boyfriend, and your Friday meetings had extended to more weekly meetings, so with stays at his house. Some people know you are an item; some are disgusted, and some are happy. None of this bothers you and Robert as you continue to be a happy couple; until it’s not happy. 
First, it’s the regrets. After each time you’d fuck, Robert would go on about how horrible of a man he is and how he can’t keep doing this. You do some further digging, and with some integration, learn that he’s not teaching next year. He’s off to some “secret location,” and within the mixture of his regret of “poisoning you”, he recommends that you two should simply stop and just leave each other. 
Of course, this breaks your heart. Hatomi, and your other friends, are horribly worried about. Your lab partner in your chemistry class, George, can see that your eyes are red and asks if you are okay. You respond that you are, having a feeling that something else is going on with Robert. 
At your next Friday meeting, you arrive early, but you don’t water the flowers, and you know why you don’t want to ever water them again. Robert comes to the door, ten minutes late, and when he opens it, you can see his collar is flipped up and his hair is a mess. As he takes a breath, you push past him and run up the stairs. You already see the pair of kitten heels by the door, and as Robert pleads for you to wait, you don’t. Once you turn the all too familiar corner to his bedroom, you hear a soft curse. It’s a woman’s voice.
Turning into his bedroom further proves your worst nightmare; another woman. Let alone, your own fucking psychiatrist; Jean Tatlock.
In your sessions with Jean, she’s been breaking more code of conduct, talking about the new man she's seeing, saying she’s having “one heck of an affair”. Based on her descriptions of him, from the lineage and nicknames, you put the pieces together, and all of them lead back to her and Robert. 
“Y/n,” Jean calmly pleads. She covers herself with a blanket as she gets out of bed, “Stop. Wait. We want to talk-”
The words “we” make your eyes swell with tears. Spinning on your heel, you beeline towards the stairs, but bump into the person you least want to see; Robert. He puts his hands on his arms, but you violently shrug and push his chest away. 
“Get away from me–” You hiss. As you back up, you sense Jean behind you and scream the same thing at her, “--Back, both of you. 
“Y/n,” Robert gently calls your voice, holding out his hands, “I’ve been meaning to tell you-”
“Tell me fucking what?” You bark at him. You point your finger back to Jean, “Robert, honestly, out of all people, my fucking psychologist? The one who describes my medications? The person I tell everything too besides you? The one I saw today just two hours ago for my weekly session?”
Jean is sobbing behind you. You like her, but yet, don’t feel bad. She’s much older than you; she should know better. 
“I had no idea–”
You scoff and let out a fake laugh, “Idea? Sure,” You look back at Jean, whose mascara is running down her face, “Don’t cry; you knew. You’re smarter than you look, you knew. You know my background, and you would go out of your way to do this? And now? We all fucking know. Robert, now we all know you were cheating on your little pure virgin girlfriend with her fucking psychologists, whom I considered to be one of my friends.” Looking at Jean, you say that last sentence, ensuring she understands you are no longer her client, let alone her friend. 
Walking down the stairs, Robert grabs your arm and forces you to stop walking. You refuse to look back, but you can hear his breathing, which makes you scrunch your firsts. 
“Y/n, I understand your anger. This is far beyond wrong. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I think it’s best that you take the time to finish your education and, if I recommend, mingle with others your age,” Robert explains with a condescending tone, which makes your blood boil.
“I can no longer carry the guilt on my shoulders. I used you for too long, and now it’s catching up with me. I’m sorry to do this to you, y/n, but I-”
You violently throw your arm back, shaking Robert’s hold on you. Through Robert’s breathing and Jean’s sobs, you storm down the stairs. Your face feels hot, and so does your body, but you ignore it as you stumble out of the house. Ignoring the calls of your name from Robert and Jean, you run out of Robert’s house and down the hill. Once you are away, you finally let go and let the hot tears run down your cheeks. Finally, the devastation and pain hit you like a bullet. When you’re not around any trace of Robert or Berkeley or any of it, you let out a screaming sob of frustration, anger, and sadness. 
It takes you a short while to recover. 
You no longer like to associate Robert with his name. Once again, he’s reduced to Dr.Oppenheimer; your terrifying physics professor with endless icy eyes and a tendency to smoke, not the man who took your virginity and showered you with expensive gifts that you refused to throw out. The relationship between you two has been severed and erased with your function serving as professor and student. Your meetings stop, at the end of the Semester, Robert gives you an A with an E for exceptional effort. Your parents receive your report card, and out of all your grades, are most fond of your Physics report. Dr.Oppenheimer writes that you are an active participant whom he had the pleasure of working with personally in the term. As they read out his comment, your memory flashes back to it all; the dinners, the music, the fire, the terms of endearment, and the whole lot of it. 
Your mother, through a puff of smoke, remarks that he seems like an amazing man. Forcing a smile, you agree. 
Once you return after the Holiday break, nothing much has changed in Berkeley. You’re still alone yet doing well academically, Hatomi’s on the verge of ruining a marriage, and you and Robert have not spoken, according to your calendar, in over two months. 
And then you meet George. 
George is your lab partner in Physics. You have known him since your orientation at Berkeley, from the forced events to the lackluster parties. He’s always had an interest in you, and has made it clear from day one; from wanting to be your lab partner to even asking Hatomi if you preferred chocolates over flowers. When you two would sit down together, he would always initiate small talk and ask how your day is going. You’d respond and spark up small conversations about your lives. 
Into the first week of December, George asked after class if you wanted to go see Citizen Kane with him. He bought two tickets, and offered to buy you anything you wanted, but understood if you were busy since in his words, you seemed even busy on Friday afternoons. 
You knew Robert was watching. You quickly glanced up and saw him at his desk, smoking as he pretended to observe tests when really, he was observing the interaction between the two of you. 
“I’m actually no longer busy at all on Fridays,” You loudly say as you want the words to echo and burn into Robert, “And yes, I’d love to go to the movies with you.”
“I’ll pick you up at Stern?”
“I’ll be waiting.” 
George arrived an hour before and took you out for an early dinner. You knew that he loved to read like you, but you also learned he was fluent in three languages and was overall extremely educated. He made sure to ask what you enjoyed, telling you to talk about your favorite books, movies, or anything that you loved. You had told him to read the first few chapters of Citizen Kane to familiarize yourself with the movie. George went red and said he had done the same, offering that if they enjoyed the movie, they could see together and talk about the plot. 
The movie was good, and in addition to the soda and popcorn he bought you, he also took you back to his dorm and fucked you like there was no tomorrow. As he humped into you, you clawed at his back and looked up at the cycling. Everytime you close your eyes, you see and think of Robert. You forced George to look at you throughout the sec and kissed him patiently to void all thought of Robert. 
There was no doubt that Robert was bothered by you and George’s interactions. You made it not so obvious that you were George’s girlfriend, while George did; from the hushed whispers and small touches he’d give you in class. While George would be doing such small things, Robert would be intensely staring from a distance with straghinted fingers and furrowed eyebrows. At one point, he changed lab partners in an attempt to keep you and George apart. You still worked together on every single lab, and to Robert’s dismay, aced every single one. 
In the beginning, you remember Robert leaving flowers in your cubby during Labs since you’d always arrive about ten minutes early. He’d tuck them into the pocket of your lab jacket. Without fail, and everytime, you threw each flower out. Eventually all together, you stopped showing up on time and made sure to show with George. 
Robert soon began to disappear from your thoughts and life. For the remainder of the year, you only spoke to him in class and nowhere else with cold, curt interactions. George had replaced Robert in all, shape, way, and form. It was strange to go with George since he was your age, and not in your former case, your thirty five year old Physics professor who cheated on you with your friend and phys-
But that was all in the past. 
Two years had gone by. Robert was the thought of the past now and you kept yourself busy between obtaining a Bachelor of Arts and Science in Literature and Physics, all while maintaining a very serious relationship with George. You spent most summers with him on Nantucket sailing or collecting seashells. Sometimes, you’d think about the “what ifs'' of Robert taking you to New Mexico on a horseback adventure. That had once been a reality, but now would forever remain a fantasy. George reminded you that yes, there were good men in the world. You both had your many issues and ups and downs, but both of you agreed that infidelity was never on your list. 
Eventually, each cycle completes itself for everything. During the fall of your Junior year at Berkeley, George proposes to you on a weekend trip up to Napa. He’s smiling the whole way through, and says he doesn’t want to wait any longer and heads straight to the courthouse to wed. 
You want to say yes, you really do, but you can’t. No matter how many times you say you love him, you know that you love him as a confidant, but not a lover. 
Rejecting his proposal, that ends every tie with George. Things are sour for a week, but Hatomi helps moderate a conversation between you two. George sobs, which in return, makes you cry. You apologize to him, and tell him he deserves better; telling him that if he sees a pretty girl, he should take her to the movies and buy her what she wants. George smiles and thanks you for loving him, hugging you, and wishing you the best of luck in your future endeavors. He writes you a letter, but you refuse to open it and leave inside of your copy of Citizen Kane, shoving it into your bookcase for it to gather dust. 
 After you and George are finished, there’s no time to grieve as you were being dragged into another situation. What seems like any other ordinary walk to your metaphysics class results with you alone in an office space with an intimidating general. He did not introduce himself, but you gathered his name as Major Groves. He held a thick file on you, questioning your life and digging into every little detail. He pressured you on your two brothers and roommates, who happened to be associated with the Communist party, asking if you had any association. You held your hands up and was nothing but honest; saying that while Hatomi still went to your meetings, your brothers had stopped talking about the idea once both of them married and had their own families. 
Still, Groves persisted and became aggressive, accusing that your friends and you were some type of danger to democracy. Communism isn't your thing ever, but you had respected it. Many people you surround yourself with were either former communist or still into it, not that it bothers you. You thought of Robert; whom never associated, but you knew he gave money. 
Which was strange. With your thought of Robert, you heard a silent shut. Groves sighed and you looked, and to your horror and saving grace, it was Robert. 
“Thank god you’re here,” Groves let out a huff as he leaned against the desk. 
“Major Groves,” Robert nodded his head as he took off his porkpie hat. He stood away from you, but beside your chair, “Is there any issue with Miss Y/n?”
Groves, still looking gruff, pinched the bridge of his nose. 
“Well yes, and no. You see, I find it alarming that she has both family and friends in association with the Communist party. I also understand her, uhm,” Groves hesitated to say it out loud, “Former relations, according to you. It raises suspicious since well, she is both in association with a communist, many of whom who are female in which he know where that ends, and slept wi-”
You were about to walk out, not wanting to be dragged into whatever mess this way, but Robert’s calm voice echoed and immediately shut up Groves. 
“General, on the defense of Miss Y/n, I can assure that her ideologies and gender are mennail to the subject of the meetings. As for our past relations, there are of the past. I ask that you not criticize or grill her without my presence,” Robert’s voice commanded. He looked at you and back at Groves, clearing his throat. 
Your heart skipped a beat as you shifted in your head, clasping your hands together. Robert looked at you, and you returned his gaze, quietly thanking him. 
Once Robert entered, Groves' interrogation stopped and he got what he pulled out of class. In his words, something “big” and “important” was occurring in an undisclosed location in New Mexico. You pieced together that a weapon of destruction was being built, since Groves brought up in your profile that your skills in Physics primarily resize in the nuclear and quantum mechanics, as described by the physics course taken at your time in Berkeley. You had even taken time out of your academic schedule and did research as a job with some of your professors. All of your Physics teachers concluded that you were extremely qualified and knowledgeable in Physics, and in one of them, being Robert.
Robert had gone on about your time in his class, saying that you were one of his brightest students, whom he had given recommendation should be part of said project. He said he was willing to talk with Berkeley to configure a way for you to leave and graduate on time to come and work on his location. Major Groves said with Robert’s recommendation, he would be pleased to approve your security clearance. Groevs also mentioned that he would give you time to figure out things with you, and also implying, Robert. 
Groves had excused himself, leaving you and Robert alone. It had been two years since you two had been alone together, let alone really conversed. You still sit at the desk and look down, not wanting to look at Robert now, admiring your manicured nails in hopes that you wouldn’t chew off the nail polish. 
“Thank you, by the way,” You muttered, “You didn’t have to.”
Some things never change, and you look up to see Robert, elearning against the desk as he looks at you, smoking out of a pipe. 
“But I did. Not that I ever minded doing so.” 
The tension never left, and both of you know it. Bouncing your leg, you lean forward and gather the courage to look at Robert. 
“Why? Am I allowed to know why the hell I’m being dragged into this?” 
“Y/n, you know I can’t say why. I can say that it is important, as you would say, in the grand scheme of the universe,” Robert explained, “We are small pieces, and this project is a much larger force. A force that can end all wars.”
Confusion still infects you. Some of this makes sense, while other parts do not. You think hard back to the past and Robert’s say on the war and weapons, trying to gather your thoughts on the situation Robert has dragged you into. 
“The Germans are out of the war, that’s all I can truly think of,” You mentioned. Once we see Robert lean, your body compels you to lean forward as well, “Is this weapon of mass discussion?” 
Robert looked uncomfortable by that saying. He shifts uncomfortably and stands from his desk, slowly making his way over to you. You want to protest and tell him to not, but you gravitate towards his presence. His hair is a little more gray, and he is still cold, but as handsome as ever. 
“Call it what you want, but possibly. It’s a weapon to end all wars, ideally, the conflict in the Pacific,” Robert alluded to. You forgot how close he came to his desk. He puts his hands on the edge of the desk and you lean back, looking down. Your cheeks when red, reminding you of your younger days with Robert. Robert’s fingers anxiously curl over the wooden desk top as you let out a soft sigh, containing a noise you did not want to be heard by anyone else. 
“There’s something else,” You blurted, “You want me for something else.”
It’s radio silent for a second. Robert’s fingers shift, and you heavily sigh. 
“Robert–”
“I want you for your intelligence,” Robert says as a confession. His hands spread against the desk. As much as you try to control yourself, you can’t. Your hands uncurl from your grasp and cover his, grasping them. 
“I also wanted you.” 
With that, Robert asked to kiss you, and you didn’t even say yes as you jumped from your chair and crashed your lips into his. Nearly falling back, he grabbed you and dragged you to the ground, refusing to let go of your body and lips. It’s desperate and messy, evident that the two of you missed each other's presence. Robert asks to remove your clothes, and you let him do so. Once removing your panties and stockings, he sticks his hard dick into you and fucks you like there is no tomorrow. He covers your mouth as you cry tears of happiness and sadness, sobbing his name. Once he finishes inside of you, you hug him and sob your eyes out. Roberts holds you and says he won’t let go. 
Both of you know you have a lot of shit to work through. He had Jean and you had George. Robert knows he’s fucked up, but he still loves you,a nd as much as you don’t want to admit it, you love him as much as he loves you. The whole reason you turned down George was because you still loved Robert. It wasn’t easy for you to forget , and with Robert, he clearly didn’t. 
He promised to fix things if you came to Los Alamos with him.
And you did. 
You managed to graduate from Berkeley a year early. Groves said that he would write to your family that you were involved in a top secret Government project, promising that he would try to cover your back as much as possible. Once you were out of this project your family would question you, but it wasn’t important. After all, Robert was right; you were small things in the grand scheme of it all. 
Los Alamos is hot, cold, and isolating. You are severely depressed, but you are able to manage that with your work and Robert. The work on the bomb is no easy task; it’s full of pressure, arguments, and disagreements. You feel intimidated, surrounded by much older men, whom you feel have more power than you do, despite knowing that you are just as capable as they are. With this stress, Robert is your reliever. Every night, the two of you switch, finding a way to comfort one another in these depressing times. 
 Now, you live full time with Robert. Nothing is perfect, but the two of you talk and make things work in the best way possible. 
You tell him about George and how you turned down his proposal. Robert coldly laughs, saying that you deserved a good man, and that you should have accepted. You said you couldn't because you loved him,a dn as much as Robert thinks you are lying, he loves the honesty that comes from you. It proves to him that when he fucked you, that you were always going to be his. He tells you that he’s cut things off with Jean, promising on his knees that he won’t ever respond to her calls ever again. You force him to promise you or else you’ll leave him. Robert looks like he’s going to sob when you said that, and he repeatedly insists that he will never do such a thing to you ever again. 
You snap back to reality when they make an announcement that they will test the bomb in three minutes. The men around you anxiously chatter as they prepare for an explosion. You put on your sunglasses and look around you. You catch Edward Teller, basking in his sun chair with a face smothered in sunscreen and sunglasses. He looks down at you, and you look away into the dark night, anticipating the explosion. Your heart skips a beat, and to pass the time, you sink back into your racing thoughts. 
In Between this drama, time passes in Los Alamos. Between the bomb being congested and your relationship with Robert being rebuilt, you fall sick. You’re nauseous, vomiting in the morning and sometimes the day, your period stops, constipation, backaches, you feel like you’re dying. You’re able to hide this from everyone but Robert, who assumes what he thinks it is. One trip to the infirmary confirms that you’re two months pregnant, bordering three. 
Initially, you're shocked, but thinking back to the classroom, it all makes sense. 
You’re ecstatic, despite being extremely sick. You take time off from your job, and Robert makes sure to tell everyone that you have come down. I'll have a bug and will return within a couple of months. The only people who know about the pregnancy are you, Robert, and the doctor. Robert makes sure to keep the mater private. 
Like you, Robert is thrilled at the concept of you having a child. You’re rather young and nervous, but Robert promises to take care of you and your child. No longer can you do things on your own without Robert swooping in; whether that be cooking, cleaning, or even reaching for medicine. 
The two of you lay in bed with your feet entangled. Robert caresses your stomach as he has done before, softly going over the small bump forming in your stomach. 
“I thought I had been putting on weight,” You bluntly admitted, rolling your shoulders back. 
“And even if you were, I would love you the same as I loved you before,” Robert plants a kiss into your hair, gently patting your stomach, “You look as beautiful as ever, love. Even with our child, you’re still so tiny. You’re just as I remembered you-”, His hands grab yours as he interlocks your digits, “-in that classroom at Berkeley. You shook your leg and your skirt rode up. As you bit your lip, I looked, and I fell. I feel hard, y/n. I love you.” 
You smile to yourself and close your eyes, squeezing his hand. 
“I love you too, Robert.”
“59 seconds until the drop!” A voice booms over the loudspeaker. Anxiety, nerves, and excitement fills the crowd of Sciences, including yourself. You put a hand on your stomach, feeling the flatness. Sometimes, you can still feel that bump. It’s been a long time, but she’s still there, haunting you. 
You lose the baby at seven months, and remember there being so much blood and tears. Every night after losing the child, you cried yourself to sleep and apologized to Robert. Robert held you and comforted you at that time. He kissed you and held you close, saying that all was well as long as you were him.
You violently sobbed, thinking back to your days of reading Greek myths  at his rental house on Shasta. Just as Hades had given Persephone the seeds for her to say, Robert had impregnated to you and brought you to his desert exile. And like Persephone, you stayed. 
Just as tears were beginning to form in your eyes, a light dried the tears right out of your eyes. 
At 5:29:45 AM local time, the stillness was shattered by an imperceptible click, triggering the activation sequence of the Trinity bomb.
A brilliant, searing light erupted on the horizon with a radiance unparalleled by any natural phenomenon. The desert floor was instantaneously transformed into a blinding white sea of light, casting stark shadows of the nearby objects. The intensity of the light seemed to defy the boundaries of the human eye, as if a new sun had temporarily usurped the heavens.
A seething ball of fire engulfed the desert in those milliseconds, swelling with ferocious energy. A towering column of smoke and dust spiraled upward, its outline illuminated by the incandescent glow. The ball of fire and the mushroom-shaped cloud of debris swelled and merged into a surreal symphony of colors – brilliant whites, fiery oranges, and deep reds – like a celestial painter's brush strokes across the sky.
Trinity’s detonation unleashed a symphony of destruction that resonated not just across the desert but through history itself. The ground quaked with a seismic force, as though the Earth itself trembled at the unimaginable power harnessed by humanity's newfound knowledge. A resounding shockwave rippled through the air, shattering windows miles away and rattling the bones of those who stood witness.
The sound that followed was a peculiar and haunting one – a low, rumbling roar that bore no resemblance to the traditional thunder or even the roar of an aircraft engine. It was as if the very air had been torn apart and reconstituted into a sound that could only be described as the collective gasp of nature itself, a primordial cry at witnessing its own mastery being tested and defied.
The visual and auditory onslaught seemed to defy the boundaries of perception, leaving spectators both in awe and in terror. The Trinity test had successfully harnessed the fundamental forces of the universe and turned them into a weapon of unimaginable devastation. In the wake of that blinding light and resounding sound, a sense of profound unease settled upon those who bore witness – an understanding that the world had irrevocably changed, and humanity had ventured into a new and uncertain frontier, where the implications of our newfound power were as profound as they were perilous.
The cheers are loud and violent. People are thrilled that those two years of hard work have paid off. They're dancing, drinking, celebrating, and you feel happy, even partaking in such matters. 
When the bomb is dropped on Hiroshima, the celebrations truly ensue. The excitement from the test early explodes with raw joy. Everyone knows that the ear is coming to an end as they drink, sing, dance, cheer, and cry. Emotions flood as people celebrate, and you partake in them for a while. As you do, you look for Robert but he’s nowhere to be found. You search within the crowd but you can't identify his pork pie hat or pipe. 
Fleeing from the celebrations, you flee to Roberts office. His secretary isn’t there, so you make this way to your office. You find him standing by the window, simply looking at the crowd. As they move, he stands perfectly still. His hat is thrown on the ground and his pipe is thrown on his desk. 
“Robert?” You sing-song his name, quietly walking over, “Oppie?” 
There’s no response. He’s not acting happy, nor does he look at it. He looks devastated. 
His eyes are watery, and you can immediately feel the guilt on his shoulders. 
There’s no need for words as you walk over and crash into Robert. His arms wrap around you and with that, he quietly cries into your shoulder, sinking with you into the carpeted ground. 
185 notes · View notes
asumofwords · 1 year
Text
Smoke, Fire and Ash
Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)
Masterlist
Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.
Note: We are back with another chapter after Aemond has left and Aegon has been a seedy little cunt. Someone help the reader because Jesus Christ. I needed a bit of a brain rest so thank you all for your patience. I really don't want to rush this story or the plot, so as I have said from the beginning, this is slooooow (and realistic) haha! Thank you all so much for you constant love and kind words.
Enjoy! <3
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Chapter 73: Surrounded
When you had reached your chambers, the world around you blurred, and your skin felt cold.
It felt like you weren’t in your body anymore. 
It was an odd feeling of watching yourself that washed over you, body on autopilot as it moved about the chambers. You (though it did not feel it) sat on the chaise and stared into space, not moving, even as the maids came to check on you and offer you lunch. 
You had shrugged them off, body feeling as though it was moving through a thick sludge, limbs heavy and finding resistance in the air. Every limb felt simultaneously weighed down by stones and light as a feather.
When the sun fell from the sky and the moon had risen to its peak, the girls had urged you to sit at the table, guiding you with caring, gentle hands, until you sat in your seat. You ate what you could as encouraged to by the girls, who seemed to worry for your wellbeing.
Bread and bits of meat was all you found you could stomach as you sat at the table, mind reeling from the interaction as you felt yourself slowly come to your body again.
As though you sunk down from the corner of the room where you had been floating in the corner, and slid back into your casing, threading yourself into your arms and legs like a coat or gown.
Slowly, but surely, you became present in the chambers. 
And that was when the dread settled in. 
Sleep well this evening. 
The girls had readied you for bed, and you had paced the room when they left, desperate to keep yourself awake as anxiety loomed over you at his words, eyes darting over to the chamber doors constantly in wait of a head of wavy silver hair to enter. 
You paced the chambers until you slumped in the chaise by the fire, feet aching and legs warm, stoking the flames with a fire poker to keep it alive and distract yourself.
Where was Aemond now? 
Would he be in Harrenhal already? 
Was he awake with the anxiety of what his brother could do in his absence? 
Was he awake in the arms of Alys? 
Or was he asleep? Uncaring and unbothered?
The thoughts kept coming as you spiralled in the chambers, their only purpose was that they served to keep you awake. The never ending streams of anxiety and ‘what if’s’ prolonging your evening. 
You moved to sit at the windowsill and watched as the sun slowly began to rise. 
The sky turned a soft purple and then pink, the room glowing warmly from the light. It was only then that you felt safe enough to retreat to your bed, climbing beneath the sheets and pulling them up to your shoulders tightly. 
You kept your eyes on the doors, waiting for any sight or sound of entry until your eyelids grew too heavy to hold open, and they drifted shut from fatigue.
You did not dream, and your sleep was shallow and broken.
Noise in the chambers jerked you awake, and your eyes immediately darted over to the chamber doors.
They were closed.
You sighed a breath of relief, resting your head back against the soft down of the pillows, steading your racing heart. Your mind felt foggy and your body ached from your lack of sleep.
“A fine morning.” Came a purr from beside you.
Your heart jumped in your chest, body shooting up from the pillow as you scrambled against the back of the bed. 
Two violet eyes watched you as you clutched the sheets to your chest.
He was here.
Aegon sat lazily in the chair beside Aemond’s side of the bed.
Watching you. 
He smiled widely as you dragged the sheets up to your neck, brain reeling at seeing him in your chambers. 
How long had he been here?
How long had he been watching you?
It was like Aemond all over again. How he had been in your chair in your chambers. How he had watched you sleep. 
You notice the similarities between the two men. 
The two brothers. 
Your two uncles.
Cut from the same cloth. 
Your breath held in your chest as you felt panic rise in your throat, freezing as he smiled widely at you. Aegon was dressed for the day; green robes and the Conquerors Crown already sat atop his head. 
One leg sat lazily over the other as though he was comfortable watching you. Lounging as you slept.
As though he had been for some time.
As though he had no cares or troubles for being in your shared chambers at all. 
“You whimper in your sleep.” The King mused, smirking at you.
Words were trapped in your throat, not able to break free as you stared at him. 
Aegon waited for you to respond and sighed when you didn’t. He suddenly stood, hands pushing on his thighs to help himself up lazily as he straightened his back with a hum. Violet eyes drifted over where your body was hidden behind the sheets before he spoke again.
“Enjoy your day.” He grinned, leaving your chambers through the doors he came in. 
A breath broke free from your lungs, followed by a sob of fear. 
He had watched you sleep. 
How long had he been there?
Did the knight let him in?
Your mind raced as you thought of it. 
You were never safe. 
But now with Aemond gone, you were unprotected.
Exposed.
He could come whenever he wished.
Aegon was King. 
And there was nothing you could do, lest you endanger the treaty and yourself.
You did not leave your bed that day, moving between panic and shock, crying and spiralling. Your stomach turned and you felt your mind reel from lack of sleep and anticipation of what was to come.
You felt yourself slowly begin to crumble beneath the new pressure of Aemond’s absence, the only thing that was keeping Aegon away from you.
Every time you closed your eyes, you felt the cold stones of the cell beneath your back. You felt the skin that had pulled away as he dragged you towards him. You felt the way he had looked at you, feasting on you with his eyes. The way he had leant over you. The smell of his breath.
It unnerved you. 
It terrified you.
It crushed you. 
And all you could do was wish that Aemond was with you.
The soft echoes of Lucerys and Helaena rose and whispered in the back of your mind as shadows began to hide in your periphery, causing you to snap your head to see who was there, only to find the space empty. 
It was as though your thread was unravelling and at a pace faster than you could grasp or slow it down. 
The maids had come to the chambers and brought you food, though you refused it. They had placed your tea beside your bed with the honey and had insisted for you to just drink that, and that having something in your stomach was better than nothing.
The eldest of maids had even stayed behind and ensured that you had drunk the last of the tea from the cup before she left the chambers, leaving you alone with your immeasurable fear. 
The day moved slowly, and nightfall came quicker than the last. You struggled to stay awake, sitting yourself upright in bed as you stared at the chamber doors, willing yourself to not sleep again. To not be bested by a man who drinks himself to piss the bed.
Sleep came in small bursts, yet as soon as you found yourself sinking beneath the surface of it, your body would jerk itself awake, eyes frantically scanning the room. 
It was empty.
Another day flew by, and you refused to leave your chambers, instead sitting and thinking of what you could do, mind jumbled from lack of sleep, and the maids insisting that you ate at least some fruit and drank your tea.
You listened to the girls and drank the brew, adding two spoonfuls of honey as always, and nibbled on some freshly baked bread that steamed on the plate, and the juicy flesh of a star fruit. It weighed heavily in your stomach, and the meal only served to make you sleepy.
When the girls had left the chambers and begged that you call for them should you need anything at all, you had paced the room, feeling like sand that had been scattered amongst a shore. Thoughts moving forward, yet never quite moving in the right direction. 
Do you send for the star fruit now? Whilst Aemond was gone? 
You had no access to Vermithor which would come as a disadvantage.
You had no weapon or way out, and if your family did come to your call, the Greens would no doubt use you as a bartering tool. 
A hostage.
And then you thought of Aemond.
How much longer would he be gone?
Do you send word to Harrenhal? Do you send a letter urging him to return? Would he receive it? Would he respond?
Would he even care?
There was no way of knowing. 
And so as you paced the chambers sluggishly, you thought of the purple flowers again.
“My pretty head of flowers.” Helaena whispered in your ear, and you fought to not flinch.
Your aunt and brothers presence becoming more constant than before. Whether they be mere shadows in the corner of your eyes, silently standing amongst the chambers, or whispering words and secrets to you.
"Dracarys, mandia." Sister.
Dracarys.
Star fruit.
Vermithor.
If you sent word to your family came now, you could go to the garden before their arrival and take some of the Monkshood, hiding it up your sleeve, or in a napkin to hide in your chambers.
If they came now, armoured on the backs of their dragons, and the Greens came looking to use you, you could eat the flower, root and stem, just to be sure, and die a cowardly death for your family. 
But you did not want to die at the hands of poison. 
You wished to fight.
You wished to succeed in what you had come here to do.
Secure the throne.
“Pretty head of flowers. Pretty head of flowers.” She continued to whisper in your head, her voice unnerving you.
You shook your head violently, trying to dispel Helaena's repetition, yet she did not stop, voice only quietening in the back of your mind, repeating the same thing, over and over.
Merely sounding like the gentle whispers of a breeze. 
The sun was at its peak when you decided to sit upon the soft cushion of the chaise, to give yourself a moment as you struggled to stop your body from swaying, exhaustion beginning to take over.
You felt dizzy and rattled, weakened from the days gone by and the constant chatter of your mind.
The moment you sat on the chaise your body sagged, head leaning back against the hard wood of the lounge as the rest sunk into the soft cushions.
You turned your head upwards and looked at the ceiling.
“Please Gods, give me the strength to do what I have to do.” You quietly prayed, hoping they would hear you. Hoping they would give you a sign, any sign, that what you were doing was right.
But the room stayed still, and you feared your absence to the Godswood had turned their favour.
Your eyes slid shut, and you told yourself that you could rest them, if only for a moment, and then go back to pacing. You just needed to rest them for a moment, and then you would get up once more.
But what if you couldn't get back up again?
How long could one survive their own mind without rest or food?
You supposed you would likely find out very soon, as you made a promise to not sleep until Aemond had returned. 
You drifted into a chaotic dream, mind so exhausted and jumbled that it followed you to your sleep. 
You were sat atop a dragon, soaring high amongst the clouds, the world around you tiny and dark, shrouded by large storm clouds. The robes on your body weighed you down, wet from the rain as you soared higher, dragon growling out into the rain.
You felt your hands be tugged and you looked down. 
In your hands were reins.
Large thick rope pulling at your palms, burning them as it was tugged away from you. You gripped the rope to pull them back, using your entire body weight to slow the beast. A crack of lightning lit across the sky and the scales beneath you became illuminated.
Green.
A smaller dragon flew higher up into the sky as your dragon chased after it, your heart racing in your chest. The tiny dragon disappeared into a break of light and you yanked the reins back, trying to stop the dragon from its course.
“Keligon!” Stop, You screamed yanking the rope, feeling it rip through skin of your palms.
But the dragon did not listen and instead, you emerged from the clouds and watched in horror as Vhagar opened her jaws and bit the smaller dragon and the small boy atop it in two.
You began to scream, looking at Arrax fall to the earth below yours, horrified by what you had done.
You killed him.
You killed Lucerys.
You killed your-
“Y/n.” A voice called from behind you, your head snapping behind you in the sky. 
The sky fell away and was replaced with the darkness of a cave, scarce lighting around you.
You were in the Dragon Pit, torches crackling against the walls, the air damp and cold. The sudden change in space making your heart jump in your chest.
You looked around, spinning in a circle, feeling familiarity from the dream. 
You turned once more and there he was.
Lucerys.
The boy was wet with rain, hair slicked to his head, and covered in blood. His mouth opened, and from his lips poured a small rivulet pf blood that trailed down his chin to drip on the floor below. Brown eyes blinked tears of blood, staining his cherubic cheeks red.
His little hand lifted and you watched in horror as he pointed beside you.
A sob came from where his finger stopped. 
Slowly you turned your head, eyes not blinking.
A woman stood beside you, her back turned to you, with silver hair matted and braided behind her head. Her body heaved as she cried loudly in the pit, dressed in a chemise and robe.
Lucerys stepped closer to move on the other side of you as you were rooted to the spot, not moving, and stared. But then your body had a mind of its own and leant forward, lifting a foot up to place it towards the woman.
You stepped forward as she continued to cry, body rocking back and forth, little hushed breaths of air falling from her lips as she swayed.
Lucerys followed beside you, the soft dripping of blood and water on his robes echoing in the space beside her sobs and the crackling torches.
A scream tore from your lips as you looked at her. 
Helaena, pale and eyes red, rocked back and forth not looking at you as she cooed into her arms, where she clutched a small bundle to her chest. 
A bundle which had small arms and legs, that were covered with pale yellow pants and a matching yellow jacket. But crimson stained the front of the clothes, spreading outwards like a flower in bloom. 
Blood soaked Helaena's front where the stump of its neck sat raw against her as she continued to coo the body in an attempt of comfort. Tissue and muscle sat exposed to her chest, which continued to pump slow and steady streams of blood down onto its stained jacket. 
The headless body of a child. 
Jaehaerys.
You scrambled backwards horrified by the scene, trying to get away from them both. 
Helaena’s head finally looked up to you, eyes rimmed with tears that flowed down her cheeks.
“He is coming.” She whispered.
Lucerys moved to stand beside her as they both watched you stumble over your feet, tears pouring down your face as you fled backwards on unsteady feet.
“Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.” Fated to burn together, Heleana spoke.
“A crown forged of blood.” Lucerys replied, blood falling from his lips as he looked at the child in Helaena’s arms blankly.
“He is coming.”
You woke with a jerk, a scream escaping from you.
Your eyes were wet with tears and your heart rattled in your chest. You stiffened in the chaise as you looked about the room in search of Aegon. 
The room had darkened and it was nightfall again. 
Then, you saw them. 
A head of silver and a head of brown. 
Staring at you as they had a moment before, except this time, dry and unbloodied, body of Jaehaerys missing from Helaena’s arms.  A sob flew from your lips as you brought a hand to your throat. 
The chamber doors swung open and the knight stormed inside, the sound causing you to jump, gasp flying from your lips as you whipped around to see him.
“What is wrong?” He asked, hand on the hilt of his sword as he looked around the chambers in search of an intruder or whatever had spooked you.
The pair began to whisper in the corner of the room as they looked at you, their voices causing you to wince as you stared at the knight. 
“A crown of blood.”
“Dracarys.”
“Pretty petals-“
The knight took in your appearance; The tear stained cheeks, disheveled hair and crinkled clothing, but most importantly the fearful eyes which widened at every hushed word uttered by two people he was not aware were in the space with them.
“I shall fetch the Maester.” He said slowly, looking at you.
“No... need.” Your voice broke, “All is fine.” You took a steeling breath, “I thought I saw a spider.” You used the back of your hand to mop the tears from your cheeks and neck.
The knight looked at you for a moment more before bowing hesitantly, as though he thought better of himself and would perhaps stay or send for the Maester despite your reassurance, but the look was short lived, and the man left the chambers with a turn of his heel.
The whispers of Lucerys and Helaena became louder as the doors shut, the knight unknowingly leaving you with them. 
A silent sob filled the room as you stared at the two in your chambers, their whispers never stopping. Looking as though they were speaking to each other, the words hard to discern beside the odd familiar whisper here or there. 
You sucked in a sharp breath and whimpered, forcing yourself to rise and move to the side of the chambers where the pair followed you like a shadow, standing at your side as they continued to whisper prophesies and commands at you.
Prophesies of what has happened, prophesies of what was to come. Commands to act.
To do.
Dracarys.
You poured yourself a large goblet of wine, throwing it back, basking in the sharp burning it brought to you as it slid down your throat. Another tear fell down your cheeks as you stood there, eyes trained on the goblet so that you did not have to turn and face your brother and aunt. 
“Sister.” Lucerys called, and you whimpered at the sound. 
Why? Why? Why? Why?
“Sister.” He whispered again.
Slowly you raised your head to look at him and Helaena, both watching you with impassive faces.
“Dracarys. A crown forged from blood.”
“Spool hen Kasta, spool hen Zōbrie.” Spool of Green, spool of Black, Helaena muttered.
“Another eye will close.”
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Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3
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368 notes · View notes
inkformyblood · 1 month
Text
tangled up in you (COD Mermay 2024)
SoapGhost, Mer Ghost x Human Soap. Mature, lime. (Minor GhostRoach - Roach is alive)
“Will you look at that?”
Ghost, despite everything instinct thrumming through his skull, woven into the seams of his ribs that demand he keep his attention on the man swimming in front of him, turns to look where Johnny indicates. It takes him a moment, the sunlight bleeding through the water brighter than he is used to, but he can make out the fluttering shapes of kelp twisting around each other.
“It’s a plant,” he offers. Swimming closer, Ghost places himself beneath Johnny, letting the man sprawl along his back as he continues to inspect the kelp. 
The suit the other wears is, apparently, a technological marvel, a fact which Simon is reminded of everytime Johnny drops into the enclosed ocean cove to visit him, frequently in a new set of colours. This one is red, or, at least, is what Johnny knows of as red. Brighter than the blood that wells up when Simon’s claws nick through the sturdy fabric to the soft give of Johnny’s hips beneath, darker than the flush that burns over what he can see of Johnny’s cheeks through the full face mask whenever Simon answers in a way he hadn’t been expecting. Simon loves him even so, heavy cumbersome suit and strange mannerisms and all.
“—know it’s a plant, ye bampot.” Johnny thumps his fist against Simon’s chest, his teeth bared in a grin. “I did pass all my science courses to work here, you know. Not just some eejit Romeo come barrelling over the walls to serenade my mermaid Juliet.”
“You haven’t serenaded me at all,” Simon tells him and Johnny curses at him, his cheeks flushed that self same shade of red but not, his eyes as bright as the sky above. 
He’s heard Johnny singing before, the roaring ballads in the showers of the scientific institute that echo through the open corridor, spilling just enough out of a propped open maintenance door that Simon could hear it, and he’s wriggled the loose bar out of one of the drains to follow Johnny into town, earning himself a deep gouge on his tail for his trouble when a broken spur caught him on his way back in. He’d heard Johnny sing then too, his arm slung around a man Simon knows as Gaz, holding each other upright as they worked their way through most of the library the small machine had.
But none of those would be the same as Johnny singing for him.
“You’d not be interested in my singing.” The tips of Johnny’s ears are pink, freshly exposed thanks to the recent disappearance of the sides of his hair. It looks sharp and Simon wants to touch it, to feel the difference between the longer piece on top and the shorter sides. It’s fascinating , the small differences between them. Simon’s own hair grows according to his environment, much like himself and his fins. He isn’t as big as he could be, constrained by the size of the tank he’s in and, when he returns to the ocean, he’ll dive deep and grow to his full size, something huge and marvellous for Johnny to witness. 
Simon doesn’t bother correcting him yet, rumbles low in his throat before he tips his head back, giving the kelp a once over again. He can’t see what is so compelling about it.
“Why the interest in the kelp?” There’s a sharp note Simon can’t keep out of his voice, a worry of a kind. He’s here for study, stays because he’s not yet bored of the scientists, and if Johnny’s attention is captured utterly by the plant life, that will take him away from Simon’s tank more and more often. It had happened before, Price pulled away from him to the confines of the office, Roach shuffled so sideways into other research projects he’s barely visible beneath the weight of them. He’d manage and come back to Simon after all of it because his bug is a survivor.
“Nah, it’s just…” Johnny shifts, worrying at his lower lip. Like this, Simon could rip his throat out and Johnny wouldn’t even try to get away from him. Instead, he leans up at catch the shiny zip of Johnny’s suit in his teeth, the longer strap exposed in the water and moving like the kelp. 
Johnny’s hand presses over his eyes, his thumb laid along the side of Simon’s nose as he tries to push him away. “Stop that. No undressing me yet, I want to try something first.”
Begrudgingly, Simon lets go, holding Johnny far longer than necessary as the other man propels himself forward with a few strong strokes. The warmth of his body has barely faded from the smooth surface of Simon’s palms before he follows him, his tail slicing through the water as he gains on Johnny, sinking below him to follow his movements. It would be easy enough to slam into him, to hold Johnny down and peel the suit from him, even cracking the mask he wears so he can breath so Simon could taste wouldn’t take too long; a couple of bites along the seam, a tooth puncturing the glass and it would be done. He would know Johnny completely and utterly in a way no one else could.
Simon is hungry . 
And he loves Johnny.
Both things can be helplessly defiantly true.
“Just, gimme a second alright?” Johnny grins down at him, his brow pinched despite the expression, and a shiver runs down Simon’s spine, the frills on his back fluttering in response. That’s the look of a plan coming into fruition, the ending of something and the beginning of new ideas to take root and rot and flower in the confines of Johnny’s mind.
Simon nods, sinking down further. He settles on the sand, drawing his tail beneath himself and watches Johnny make his way into the kelp. The sunlight filters through the water, shattering it into flickers of light that spin across Simon’s palms as he presses them deeper into the sand. He isn’t made for soft things like daylight, better suited for the cold crushing deeps where he can grow, his colouration bleeding over his form until he becomes something else. He doesn’t remember much of his youth, too dark to pick out anything of substance except a gnawing pain in his belly and copper in his mouth that would never fill him, but he remembers one other mer, larger than him in every way, her stripes regimented over her arms where his follows the pattern of his bones.
He thought she was beautiful.
“Ready for you, Si!”
Simon rises in an instant, pushing himself off from the sand with a dull haze following him, the surface disturbed by his movement. He reaches the kelp where Johnny had vanished into and pauses, tipping his head to one side, working his teeth against each other.
“Are you stuck?”
Almost doesn’t seem possible and yet there are thick bands of kelp draped over Johnny’s arms, another thrown around his waist.
“Yeah.” Johnny reclines back into his self-inflicted bower, completely unphased by his current state of capture. Simon drifts closer, his fins caught in the gentle current of the water, drawn wide and billowing.
Johnny continues in the same tone, bright and breathless, his chest rising and falling with every word. “You could do anything to me right now.”
There’s no warning light on his monitor, no holes in his suit, so Simon leans closer, peering over Johnny’s shoulder to inspect the free moving kelp behind him. He isn’t caught, just pretending to be so. He draws back, lowering his face so he is level with Johnny’s through the glass and smiles. Row upon row of curved teeth are visible in the reflection and Simon’s eyes are dark against the pale flash of his markings, something made to hunt and feed, a terror from the deep existing in the light because he chooses to, a beast in human form. “I already can.”
There is no other way to describe it; Johnny’s eyes bloom. 
Algae devastates the surface of the ocean, blots out any hope of light reaching further down, and Johnny’s pupils expand to restrict the colour to a thin line around the edge. His mouth hangs slack, displaying the blunt edges of his teeth. 
Simon chuckles, the sound flaring through his gills, and he snaps his teeth lazily. Johnny’s gaze doesn’t shift from them, instead, somehow, focusing more on the void just behind them, the danger they could be. Johnny’s fingers twitch, craving his pencil and notebook if Simon had to guess, desperate to document this moment in something more tangible than his memory, more clear than his dreams that would leave him trembling and sweat-soaked.
“Instead of playing, I could just hold you down when we fuck?” Simon draws back, out of the detestable kelp, and waits in the open water. He peels a stray frond from his arm, his lip curled at the sensation of it clinging to him; oddly cool despite Simon’s lower body temperature and slimy, the imprint lasting far longer than the touch had. It doesn’t take long for Johnny to free himself from his meagre restraints, throwing a handful of curses at the plant matter he’s surrounded himself like talismans, flitting out into the open and into Simon’s arms like he wants to be eaten. 
“Well, Si? Don’t keep a man waiting.”
Simon won’t eat Johnny, not yet, maybe not ever. It’s far more interesting with him alive to surprise him, after all.
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evanbegins · 5 months
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inspiration saturday 💤
tagged by @jamespearce9-1-1 and @wikiangela ❤️
its sunday for me right now, but i decided to scrap up something for my current wip where buck starts sleep talking after the shooting. i'm about 2.8k in right now!
+ a snippet of the fic below
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here it is:
Once she laughs, Eddie and her both fall into a silence both comfortable and stifling. The air conditioner and the music are both ambience that blends in with the quiet, and Eddie glances over at her one more time. Eddie’s shoulder continues to ache painfully, just like his heart and his chest.
When they pull into Eddie’s driveway, Ana helps him get out of the car like the she helped him get into it. This’ll be the last time he ever rides in the same car as her, he thinks, as she walks him to the door. They go up the steps to his porch and stop in front of the door, facing each other, brown eyes both sad. Eddie’s fingers and his hand twitch by his side, and he pauses for a moment, before pulling her into a gentle hug. It’s loose, because Eddie’s shoulder is still pained and in a sling, but she holds him with both arms. The hug is meant to be comfort for her, but Eddie knows it’s meant for him just as much. Her hand rubs his back and they stand there, holding each other, rocking back and forth on their feet.
“Thank you,” she whispers where she fits perfectly into the crook of her neck, words muffled by the collar of his shirt, her palms searing and burning his skin through the fabric. He feels choked up, just the slightest bit. “I’ve had a wonderful time with you, Eddie.”
Guilt clings to each knob of his spine, the knuckles in his hands, the tips of his hair to the tips of his toes. It’s washed over him in waves like a canvas covered in paint. He holds her with his one arm, shoulder throbbing, surgical line underneath his pec itching, and he nods.
He’s guilty for not loving her. He’s guilty because she just took him out to a nice place she seemed to love and he tainted it with his presence; the last place they went to in a relationship before he broke it off. He’s guilty because he’s here, on his porch on a sunny day in Los Angeles, with a bright blue sky and fluffy clouds and blinding sunshine, and he’s holding his ex-girlfriend before they part ways for the foreseeable future.
“I have, too. Thank you for bringing me home, Ana. Lunch was lovely.”
They let each other go, and when Ana pulls away Eddie can tell that her eyes are wet and shiny again. He hopes that she’ll be happy again, because she deserves it. She’s a wonderful person who didn’t deserve to have her heart broken by the man she waited by in a stiff hospital chair while he was in a medically incuded coma. Eddie knows, even without seeing his reflection, that his eyes mirror hers. His vision is a little bleary, and Ana’s hand lingers on his bicep, thumb brushing against his skin beneath his sleeve, before she drops it by her side. She brings a hand up to delicately wipe the salt and tears beneath her eyes, small smile on her face, and she gives a little sniffle.
“You’re a great man and an even better father, Eddie,” her words are wet, nodding along with her words as she faces him, hurt evident on her face. “I hope your recovery goes well. You deserve it. Maybe in the future we can be friends.
Eddie nods back, his chin quivering a little, and he gives her a small smile right back. “Yeah, I would like that. Get home safe, okay?"
tags: @nmcggg @daffi-990 @wildlife4life @steadfastsaturnsrings @yourcatfishfriend @theotherbuckley @annieontheside @fortheloveofbuddie @cal-daisies-and-briars @thosetwofirefighters @knightlywonders @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @malewifediaz
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