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jarofstyles · 2 months

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Lullaby 2

Hey hi hello! We got vampy part 2 coming' at you now. I'm thinking this is a 5 parter, I've been chipping away at it :-) I hope you guys like him.

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Lullaby Masterlist

WC- 6.1k

Warnings- vampires, mention of blood, mentions of familial death etc, H is obsessive n a lil stalkery but he's a vampire so to be expected, slight manipulation on his part, invasion of her privacy, soft h, slight smutty thoughts, etc

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The Sun setting was one of her favorite views.

Sitting on the front porch with her book in hand, she had her feed tucked under her to the side as she looked at the blend of fiery orange, saccharine pinks, brilliant yellows and the tiniest bits of purple. The calming of the day, the chaos of lawnmowers, cars running, children giggling and squealing all blending out into a soft quiet harmonized with crickets. The new summer heat lingered but the cool breeze tickled her skin, a welcome relief from the oven of a car she had been in on the way home. Her AC had died earlier today, marking the beginning of a difficult day.

At the end of it, though, she could always count on the sky to calm her down. The swirls of color fading into the night, twinkly stars appearing as the dotted sky darkened and the moon peaked out to say hello.

Y/N was a dreamer. Someone with her head in the clouds a lot of the time, theorizing and poetical thinking, wondering what else was out there in the world. What had she not discovered yet? There was this tug in her soul, bone deep, that she was meant for something more. That the other shoe would drop at any moment and her life would be turned upside down. Her dreams were filled with promise, of a world that was a little darker but so much more vibrant. Smells more intense, colors more vivid, taste elevated. In her dreams a few nights prior, she could feel the hands of her lover perfectly, though she had a problem actually seeing them- just a general outline, dark hair, pale skin. Cool hands on her cheek that she nuzzled into, a deep voice drawling out words she couldn’t quite understand but somehow found comfort in. That feeling had soothed her soul, settled that ache in her bones even just for the duration of the dream.

Her heart hurt when she arose, seeing no lover beside her. No cool fingers brushing hair from her eyes, no soft lips buttoning with her own. It hurt her to crave someone she logically knew didn’t actually exist, but she accepted it. As dreamy as she could be, her logical mind won over in this aspect and reminded her that she’d find her person one day. That her dreams were just dreams, to not mourn the loss of a lover that simply did not exist.

But still, the yearning didn’t stop.

Her bowl of cherries beside her, she rocked on her glider as she watched people arrive home for the night. Odd? Perhaps. But Y/N enjoyed the art of people watching. Waving to her neighbors who gave her polite smiles before entering their own houses, seeing their own families.

As much as she was grateful to her grandmother for leaving her the large old home that she had many a memory in, it sometimes felt overwhelmingly lonely. There was only so much space a single young woman needed, and even if she thoroughly enjoyed using a single room for a closet, it only reminded her when she laid in the dead of night after waking up over some weird tugging feeling in her chest that bogged her down significantly. That loneliness that felt even more palpable in the way she had no one to try her test batch of cookies and no one to turn over to in bed to show a ridiculous post she saw on social media.

Sure, she had some friends who would come over and stay the night at times but after her grandmother passed, she had no one. At least of familial relation. Her friends were as close as they could get, but it was difficult to form bonds at times when she was tugged two separate ways. Everyone always left. The want to be so close she was clingy, and the overwhelming fear something would happen and they would leave by their own accord- or not- hindered her from allowing people to get as close as she desired.

Sometimes she wished her loved ones could have been immortal. Even though it didn’t exist- even if her grandmother told her the stories of the supernatural and paranormal bonds- she wished it did. Wished that someone would never leave her, would love her endlessly. A bond deeper than marriage, no worries of cheaters or boring of her. It may sound a bit crazy, but she wished for complete devotion. Overwhelming love that wouldn’t end. If only something like that existed in anything but a book. Her grandmother had sort of set her up for failure by planting all those ideas of those all encompassing love stories in her mind.

Sighing to herself, she popped a cherry into her mouth to end her own pity party and went to go back to her book- but a familiar car brought her out of her focus.

Harry was back.

He hadn’t been home for three days, she had noticed. Not that she was stalking him or anything but she had vowed to herself in her journal and her mind to make more of an effort with him, so his absence had been noted. In some ways she had been relieved to have an excuse so she wouldn’t have to fear rejection but on the other hand she was getting antsy to just get the disappointment over if it was going to happen

Harry was, for a lack of a better term, dreamy. His voice, the bold structure of his face; the petal pink of his lips. He had the most alluring eyes, shifting between green and gold at times that she had noticed the last time they’d spoken. He was tall and built, large shoulders and tattooed arms she had seen peeks of but not enough to get a full picture. Large hands with thicker fingers and a plethora of rings that would look gaudy on anyone else but with his persona, it simply fit. Slightly mysterious, guarded in a way; but still kind. Classy in a different sort of style that she hadn’t seen from many people around here. The stylish way he dressed even represented bits and pieces of a time that she read of in her books. He was elegant in ways that she had thought of as a movie character, like he was in a different time period and brought here. The elements of vintage tied into his outfits had her thinking he must have an appreciation for history at the very least.

Her eyes took him in as he lifted a worn leather duffle bag out of the trunk of his sports car. It wasn’t the Range Rover she had usually seen, or the Audi, but a bit flashier and sleek. A new purchase, maybe? Nevertheless, it was a way into conversation.

“Nice car!” She called over, wincing immediately as she realized how lame that must have sounded. His head snapped over to hers, sunglasses still on his eyes even with the fading light. A tiny smile planted the well of his dimple, placing the bag on top of the now closed trunk.

“Hi, Y/N.” Skin prickled with chills as he said her name. It sounded real damn nice coming from his mouth. “Would you like to come see it?” He asked politely. Not being able to see his eyes was a little intimidating, but she returned the smile and stood up with her cherries in hand. The least she could do was share her fruit with him if he was letting her see the car.

“Is it new?” She questioned, approaching with her sandals slapping against her feet. Mentally she set a reminder to get different ones that weren’t obnoxious. Getting closer to him she could feel the familiar tingle at the base of her spine, a slight giddiness as her heartbeat picked up the closer she got to him.

“It is, yeah. Had to fly out to drive it back.” He admitted, seemingly taller than the last time they’d talked. How much money did the man have? Surely a decent amount, as anyone in this neighborhood did, but three cars and flying out to get one seemed a bit luxurious to her.

“Oh wow, that’s some dedication. It looks worth it though. I don’t know a ton about cars but it’s gorgeous.” She nodded, looking it over. The rambling didn’t help her cause but it was pretty much standard when she was nervous. “Oh! Uh, did you want some of my cherries?” Holding the pink ceramic bowl out to him, her eyes looked up at him and saw her reflection in the sunglasses. She wished she could see how he was looking back at her. If she would see any interest. Thankfully she could tell by the smile that he at least seemed slightly endeared.

“Sure, thank you.” Two of his ringed fingers picked out a ripe one, pinching the small red fruit in his hands, looking down as a bit of the juice dribbled down his thumb. “Did you…”

“Yeah, I pitted them already. Sorry, I didn’t think to warn you. But you’re wearing all black so it shouldn’t stain, I don’t think.” The attempt of a joke had her groaning in her head. Could she act fucking normal? Her mind was a jumbled mess, as it usually was with him, but it seemed to be getting worse. The thought of her cherry stained fingers had come back to her, filtering through the thoughts of wanting to know more about him into a slight shame that she hadn’t thought to have warned the man of dripping cherry juice down the back of his hand.

“It’s not a problem.” He assured, popping it into his mouth.

Perhaps she needed to get laid, but somehow watching him chew the cherry was better than porn. The slight dark red sheen on his lip, gently dripping down his chin and the clench of his jaw as he worked the flesh of the fruit through his teeth, he let out a pleased hum.

Y/N saw the path the dribble of juice going further down and before she could think twice, she leaned up on her toes. There was little hesitation as she thumbed over his chin, wiping the juice away. It had been like second nature, invading his personal space like it was instinct.

Her hand froze as soon as reality set in, his chewing taking a pause as there was a moment of bated breath. Bright eyes widened, ripping her hand away like his touch had scorched her. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I have no idea why I just did that.” She squawked, holding her hand up in front of her chest. “That was so rude of me. I swear I don’t usually just touch people like that, it was just dripping down your chin and I didn’t want it to stain more of your skin and-“

“I didn’t say it was a problem.” The vampire murmured, swallowing the sweet fruit. “I didn’t mind at all.” His own thumb came up to brush over the path her digit had taken. It still thrummed with warmth from the human’s touch, his body perking up as he ached to take a step closer. Her scent made a lot of sense considering he had seen her more often than not with bowls of fruit on her porch. Fresh cut strawberries in sugar, watermelon, mango sliced into wedges, grapes, but most frequent were the cherries. It reflected in her sweet scent, sugary but not in a sickly way. Fresh, sweet, ripe like fruit.

He was glad he wore his glasses because the thought moved towards how sweet she would taste right now. If he were able to just take her gaze and use his slow, deep words and locked eyes to compel her to move the hair off of her neck and tilt it for him, lift her to sit on the hood of the car and let his teeth sink into the throbbing artery in her throat. How the sugary taste would tinge the metallic aftertaste. She’d writhe in his hold and spread her legs for him, give him the option of burying his tongue to lap up the only substance that would be able to compete with the obsession he would surely have with her blood. Maybe even take a bite at the junction of her thigh, leave marks all over her. Punctures to visibly show it and his scent to claim the little human as his own.

If the glasses weren’t on, it was sure that she’d see the flash of red in his iris.

“Still.” She said sheepishly. “We are friends but I don’t know how you are with touch and everything and I didn’t have permission, so I’m sorry.”

Harry smiled at that. The little peach, his little cherry, so considerate of other people. She had no idea how he had to dig his nails into his palm to keep from grabbing her and hauling her into him so he could suck off the slight stain on her lips. Bury his face in her throat and inhale her dangerous temptation.

“I promise, it’s quite alright. You can touch me anytime you’d like.” He took a risk in placing one of his hands on her shoulder, letting some more of her warmth infiltrate his system. The words had been loaded, sure, but he remembered vividly how her journal entry had written about wanting to see more of him. It was his fault, spending so much time with her even if she was asleep. Her body was going to crave him just as much as he craved her. “If you would like, I would be more than willing to take you on a drive sometime.”

This was something of an excuse to see her again, but the creature was overwhelmingly desperate to form a bond with her. As much as he looked forward to watching her sleep, he would rather her be in his bed, soaking his sheets and pillows with her tantalizing scent. The idea of getting close to her was something he had been weighing for a while, but reading her journal a few days ago had clued him into knowing the pull wasn’t just one sided.

The memory of her nuzzling her cheek into his frosty palm, sighing in contentment when he had observed her the night before had him feeling borderline insane- even more than one would be after living centuries, amassing knowledge and watching the world consistently evolve around you than one would imagine. His hand still tingled when he recalled feeling the heat of her skin, knowing she was so full of life underneath him. Finding comfort in the monster that gnawed at his cheek to keep from sinking his fangs into her delectable skin, taste her blood as it seeped over his tongue. If only he could skip to the part where she knew, where she’d crave the venom igniting her nerves. Y/N would be the prettiest little snack he ever had.

“Oh, really?” She perked up, blinking up at him. “I’d love that. When- when did you want to? It’s up to you, I’m free all weekend and stuff but I know you’re busy.” There was a pause. “Or it seems so. I’m not sure why I assumed that.”

Again, his little human made him chuckle. “I am.” He wasn’t, not right now. He had a handle on his duties, but the majority of the time he was writing. Painting. Looking at properties to invest in on his iPad while curated playlists crooned from the speakers around his house. If only he could imagine such a thing back in 1760 without being accused of witchcraft. Then again, witchcraft was too much for humans even now to comprehend. “But I’d be more than happy to take you out. I don’t… know many people in the neighborhood because of it. A little lonely at times.”

It was actually by his own want, because the less people knew of him around here the better- but he had this insane obsession with this particular human, so she was the exception to his ‘stick to vampires but even then limit your socialization’ rule.

He knew he was appealing to Y/N’s metaphorical bleeding heart. Manipulation was in his nature. In this case, though, he had no cruel intentions. He wanted to get to know the pretty girl, wanted to have her feel the same amount of lust and obsession he was subject to feel on a daily basis. Humans knew nothing of how intense and passionate a vampire’s affections could be, and for that reason he had been hiding his time. Laying in the shadows and approaching while she slept to soothe the inner beast that insisted he crawl out the window with her body attached to his so she could reside in his house, feast on whatever she chose and allowed him to touch and feed on her as much as he chose.

She’d like it, he was pretty sure. Once she warmed up to the idea, Harry had high hopes that she would allow him to be as handsy as he wanted. Sex between a pair with a compatible scent was otherworldly. If she were to be with him, he’d need to pace himself and understand his strength, but there was that part of him that still worried slightly. He cared for her. She wasn’t a metaphorical juice pouch for him to snack on like a lot of others his kind referred to humans as. Something he used to laugh at before he scented the girl with eager eyes in front of him. Now he understood why his uncle had fought so much, defending his human soulmate. Eventually he turned her, but during the few years she remained human he had been valiant in his efforts to defend her honor in every way possible.

It was partially why he didn’t tell many people of his suspicions of his bond with his own little human. Already slightly on edge from not being able to hold her the way his body needed, he would not be surprised if he lost it on anyone who snickered at her.

Buying the car was a strategic effort to get himself to cool off, but it did no good. If anything he was more desperate now. The good news, however, was that Y/N felt his absence just as much. Her hands had touched him like he was hers to touch. His body felt the flush of pleasure just being near her, clenching his fists by his sides to keep from reaching out to her. So close to him, so damn close, but he had to behave.

Y/N with her tender soul gave him a look of understanding. One that would later make him feel a sickly guilt because he was alone by choice, and the pretty woman was alone because life had dealt her a hard hand. She understood loneliness because it was all she felt.

“Well you know me.” Her voice was delicate as she looked up at him. “And we can get to know each other so maybe you feel less alone. I know the feeling and it’s hard, but you don’t need to feel that with me. I’m right next door.” Pointing towards her house with an understanding smile, he felt a little more guilt but tried to shove it down. Y/N wouldn’t feel any sort of loneliness if he could help it. “You’re welcome anytime. Just knock.”

The knowledge that he’d been inside her house more times than she could even count should be something that exacerbated the guilt, but it didn’t. In that respect, he thought of it as a favor to her. Getting his fix without suffocating her with his presence while she was awake was a gift, because if she had even the slightest inkling on how much self control it took for him not to simply steal her away and sink his teeth into her neck, claim her as his soul bonded, she would be terrified. “I will.” Letting himself smile a bit bigger at her, he lifted the bag up on his arm. “How about you come over tomorrow evening and I’ll take you on the drive.”

He could hear the pickup of her heart. The slightly elevated thumping went harder, the blood rushing to her cheeks as her eyes widened slightly and she swallowed audibly- for him anyways- making him feel the satisfaction in his chest that he had this sort of impact on her. If his heart still beat he was positive it would kick up at the mere mention of her, the slight catch of her scent, but this was progress. Restraining himself now was the hardest thing he had ever done.

“Yeah! Yeah, that would be awesome.” The human chirped, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. His hand tightened on the bad strap from how the slight movement had wafted some more of her scent towards him. It would be a struggle to control his eyes when they were alone, but going at sundown should be an excuse to keep his glasses on… at least for a little while.

“Amazing. I’ll be yours at sunset.”

In more ways than she knew.

Harry let her stumble over her goodbyes, her slightly shaky hands grabbing the bowl of cherries and walking back to her front porch with curious eyes that met his own as she looked back. He knew he wasn’t the only one who felt the connection, he’d seen it written in her journal, but feeling it in real time was surreal. It took the most self discipline he’d needed all week to walk inside his house, dropping himself onto the velvet sofa with a grunt. The place she had touched on his chin to wipe away the ironically deep red juice still held some warmth, reminding him again that she’d touched him. There was no question about the pull, seeing how mortified she’d been at her body's reaction- but it had been natural. It made sense to him that she’d be drawn to touch him. Human resolve was weaker than one of a vampire but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel that overwhelming urge to run to her house and ask to come in right now just to see her.

Instead, he sat with the french doors open in the back to listen to her go about her house. She hummed to herself, cooked dinner, and took a shower. The humid air floated out of her bathroom window that she kept slightly cracked to make sure it didn’t steam up too much, letting him inhale her at her purest form. When they got together he’d try to find her less strong shampoo and wash so her natural scent could be highlighted, but luckily her intuition had her choosing similar to how she came off to him. Almost like subconsciously she knew what to do to attract him there.

It was when he heard the scratching of pen to paper that he went outside to wait. In hand he had a warmed bag of blood poured into a crystal glass- a bit pretentious- to calm his nerves. He loved wine, sure, but he needed to be positive his hunger was satiated before going up to see her. If he was being honest, he knew it wouldn’t be until he tasted Y/N, but he had to try. Had to keep her safe in the best ways he could until they passed the threshold of pretending to move around one another and into a courting.

The plan had never been to take a human as a mate- as it probably wasn’t for any vampire. Humans were glorified bloodbags to a lot of his kind, seen as a lesser being. While he didn’t always share that exact sentiment, he was guilty of caring less for humans in general. They were oblivious to danger, slightly obnoxious, covered themselves in putrid perfumes, loud, uncouth, and fragile. So fucking fragile that it still terrified Harry to touch Y/N. He needed to ensure her safety in any way possible and that meant training himself to touch gently. To hold gently. To avoid any sort of pain that would absolutely wreck him to be the source of.

Humans weren’t ideal mates for that reason. Vampires got carried away during sx, the stamina hot and hard, the passion making it difficult to hide the monstrous nature that laid internally. He knew he’d take Y/N over and over again until she was sleepy and sore if he had the chance. If Y/N allowed him that honor, he could easily spend days locked inside of a room with her with little need to pull his cock from the warm confines of her cunt. It was the dream he had over and over again, yet something he feared. If he lost control with her in the heat of the moment he couldn’t recover. Though he had faith in himself to keep her safe, sex was the one thing he craved and feared the most with her.

Lost in his thoughts, he watched the light turn down in her room. Never off, as she had a slight fear of the dark. Her bedside lamp turned on, he could hear her breathing start to even out as he jumped over the fence separating their properties and scaled the tree to her balcony. It wasn’t necessary, but the less trapezing he had to do around her home the better. Counting her heartbeats, he waited for 30 minutes for it all to even out and resemble the deeper parts of sleep before he opened the door.

One of these days he would scold her for leaving windows and doors unlocked. It was just like a human to be forgetful of those things, even if it did benefit him. His chest tightened as he walked in to see her body curled into a ball under the duvet. Hair peeking out, she was obviously a bit cold from how she had huddled under the cover of her blankets. A pang of sadness hit his stomach, perhaps a hint of inadequacy because he wouldn’t be able to keep her warm with his body. He could blame all sorts of health issues, but as long as she remained human he wouldn’t be a source of comfort in that way.

He let out a soft sigh before swiping the journal, settling himself in the chair across from her. A leg crossed over his thigh, lightly tapping his foot in the air as he began to read.

‘I talked to Harry today :-) He was so nice. Very intimidating in a weird way, but also not. It’s hard to explain. That feeling that makes me drawn to him felt a little stronger, even if I did make a fool of myself. I didn’t think twice before reaching up to wipe cherry juice from his chin, which like…. That was so weird of me. He didn’t seem to judge me for it but there had to be some part of him that was freaked out.’

A chuckle left his throat, whisper soft as his fingertip caressed the words as he read. In his head he could hear exactly how she’d say these things out loud. The journal was an extension of her, a physical example of her stream of consciousness.

‘Regardless, I’m seeing him tomorrow. I’m panicking, of course, but I think above else I’m really excited. There’s that weird buzzing in my stomach at the thought of him and my chest gets all warm. I haven’t ever spent time with him outside of our talks outside or when he came to get his cat but he offered. I was going to be brave and all of that but thank god he took the initiative. I would have done it… probably. It’s just hard because I don’t think my body has ever reacted to a man the way it reacted to him today.’

Harry smiled to himself at the last sentence. It must be confusing to a human with no idea of what was happening. No clue that it was the universe leading her towards him, making him appealing because he was the one that could give her what she wanted. She was his, the bond he had accidentally jumpstarted starting to fall further into place. The sleeping girl didn’t know how he’d almost moaned at the feeling of her hand on him, how he’d been tempted to suck the juice from her thumb and squish one of the fruits between his fingers to trickle down her neck. His throat tightened at the image in his head, dark red beads moving down her skin, taunting him. His tongue lapping it up, kissing over her pulsepoint before he sunk his teeth in and took a few strong pulls from her artery.

Swallowing thickly, he went to go back to the journal entry, to read more about her thoughts and excitement about him, but that was interrupted.

“Harry?” A hoarse voice rang through the air, making his entire body freeze. The flush of cold washed over him as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, droopy and furrow browed. “Am I dreaming?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, darling. It’s a dream.” His voice swiftly took on a croon, placing the journal to the desk and standing up from the chair. “You’re alright.” If his heart still beat it would be in his throat and at his feet at the same time, body tense as he tried to navigate this the best way possible. It was too early for her to know he came in here, came to spend time with her even when she slept. It was far too much for her to know he counted her breaths and monitored the beats in her chest. That he tried to give her privacy when she touched herself to get herself sleepy, but he couldn’t help overhearing even when trying to distract himself in his home office.

“Oh.” The sad sigh had him curious. Was she disappointed? What would she truly do if she knew this was anything but a dream, a sickly reality where a monster was completely and utterly obsessed with her, and wanted to bond her to his side for the rest of eternity. “Can you come lay with me then? If this is a dream I think I shouldn’t waste it with you over there.”

The vampire wanted to laugh at how completely absurd this was. How fucking insanely lucky he had gotten that her own glass of wine had her more drowsy than normal. This scenario had been his fear from the beginning, but he had to wonder if her body felt the pull more now that she’d touched him. Now, she knew how his skin felt. Contact had been made, and maybe her body felt his presence more than before. “Of course I can.” He smiled lightly, padding over to her empty side of the bed to toe off his shoes. It felt surreal, her heat radiating off of the mattress as he slowly lowered himself down on the sleeping pad that was probably a bit too hard and springy for her. She’d prefer his bed, he was positive. It’d cost a pretty penny but for the times he did want to sleep it was perfection.

“This is the most realistic dream. I need to lay off the Cabernet before bed.” She yawned, lifting the duvet up and showing no hesitation as she scooted closer to him and laid herself down next to him. “Well, dream Harry, you’re gonna have t’do until the real one wants me. Hold me please.”

It was times like this that Harry wondered what sort of good karma he’d gotten, especially with how many lives he’d taken, to get a taste of this. Her body warmth was so delicious, her scent making his mouth water and he thanked whoever was listening in his head that he’d had the intuition to have fed before this. Her body was delicate and soft, turning over for him to lay with her- spoon her. Harry hadn’t done this in a number of years, had never felt the real urge to, but he did it for her regardless. Took her soft flesh into his hands and felt her shiver as she she huddled closer to him. Hot fingers ran over the backs of his hands, slotting in between the spaces. In all his existence, he had never had a feeling to compare to his one.

“Is this alright, Darling?” He asked into her ear, trying his best to remain calm. This was the ultimate impulse control, her thudding pulse right at mouth level. He could hear the blood running under her skin, the pumps of her heart moving it through her system. Digging his canine into his lip, he took deep and slow breaths through his mouth to try and limit temptation. It didn’t take it all away, his head dizzy from the scent surrounding him, but if he took a large inhale of the spot next to her ear he would perhaps lose his mind.

“Mhm.” She sighed contently. “This is a good dream. Maybe you’ll fall in love with me tomorrow and I can make this real.” The words were said so quiet that he was sure that no human could hear them, but he could. He heard them and committed them to memory. The sweet little human had no idea that he’d been falling for a long time. Y/N took up the majority of his thoughts, owning him in a way that had him feeling like his life wasn’t his anymore. For someone with control issues it had made him furious at first, but the last bit of anger towards her for owning him melted away as she melted into his body, giving herself to him. There was no way he could hold even the slightest bit of resentment when it felt this divine to hold her.

The only times he had held humans in his life had been to drain them of their blood. To watch the life drain from them as he took it selfishly for his own needs. Never once has it been to cherish one, to commit the feel of her fingers between his to memory. It was overwhelming, as the girl dozed off in his arms, to know that this was merely a taste of what he could have. He needed to charm her, to get her to see that he could give her the love no one else could. Albeit obsessive, possessive, intense, unlike anything a human could give her, he had a feeling that if she had been a temptation for him that the fates had chosen to give him a human who could handle it.

“I’m going to take care of you.” He spoke softly, not wanting to rouse her from her sleep quite yet. “You are the most precious thing in my world. Somehow you’ve managed to bewitch me, little human. Completely take my heart from my chest, regardless of how dormant it has laid.” Inhaling shakily, he let his nose run along her cheek. “You won’t have to be alone ever again. Not if I can help it. I’ll show you the love you deserve.”

It wasn’t until the bright blue of the early turning dawn started to break that he found himself able to move from her bed. It took three tries and a lot of control when she sought him out, holding tighter to him and whimpering when he went to leave in his first attempts, but he had to go before she woke up. It ached, the thought of leaving her, but he had to. Even though hours later would feel like an eternity, he couldn’t take any more risks tonight. The selfishness he had for staying all night couldn’t be extended to waking her up with sweet words and his mouth. Even though it pained him, the soreness of his chest making it feel even more hollow, he had felt more whole in those hours than he’d ever imagined he could be.

The melancholy that followed him around, the bitterness, it didn’t go away completely- but it had dulled down to a whisper as he climbed out of her yard. Just hours with her and he felt lighter. Like his heart started to beat again.

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d4yl1ghts · 6 months

Text

stuck

mark sloan x shy, fem!reader

summary: you and mark get to know each other when you get stuck in an elevator

A/N- i feel like he would love star wars (not as much as bailey tho)? but this gives me such katniss and peeta vibes

You read the files that Doctor Shepherd had given you to take a look through because he thought his new patient may have some sort of problem with their heart and cardiology was your specialty. You were currently in the elevator, heading up to find an empty room to study your new case when the elevator suddenly came to a halt. Confusedly you glanced around and noticed Mark Sloan, the world’s number one man-whore was the only other person there.

He glanced up from his papers and made eye contact with you. “What happened?”, he questioned with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. This was the first time you’d heard him so nervous. “I think the elevator just broke.”, you sighed as the realisation just set in once you said it out loud. He huffed to himself. “Hopefully they’ll be able to fix it soon, I have a surgery in an hour.”, he stated, checking the time on his watch.

“Might as well get comfortable.”, he added as he fixed himself on the floor and placed his files beside him. You copied his actions and sat opposite him. “So, what case have you got there?”, he asked you, striking conversation. “Oh, just a new case Derek wanted me to check up on. What about you?”, you awkwardly asked as your cheeks blazed. “Just some boring charts of burn victims, I have to reconstruct their faces, arms and legs.”, he said. “Oh, lovely.”, you replied sarcastically.

You stared at the wall of the lift and zoned out into your own thoughts. It must have been around five minutes of silence before Mark started speaking again: “If we’re gonna be here for a while then we may as well get to know each other.”, he said, looking into your eyes. It wasn’t a bad idea, there was nothing else you could really do.

“Tell me three random facts about yourself. I’ll go first: I used to live in New York (I’m sure you’ve heard about that), my middle name is Everett and I love the Star Wars movies.”

“Uhm… this is actually hard to think about, hold on.”, you said, embarrassed. He chuckled slightly. “Okay, I hate posh restaurants, I also love the Star Wars movies and I have a pet cat named Jack.”

“Cool, why do you hate posh restaurants though?”, he questioned as he turned to you with amusement in his eyes. “They’re just so intimidating and I just generally don’t like the vibe of the, do you know what I mean? Also, they’re so overpriced like you could find some cosy place that sells nicer food for way cheaper.”, you said passionately. You did not like posh restaurants at all. “I get what you’re coming from to be honest. I always preferred a cute and little cafe opposed to a fancy restaurant.”, he reasoned.

“If I ever ask you out on a date, I guess I’ll know where to take you.”, he flirted which left your cheeks on fire, well that’s what it felt like anyway. “I’m not surprised everyone calls you a man-whore.”, you said as you ignored what he previously said. “That’s not my proudest nickname.”, he responded. “I want to change my nickname, I don’t want to be known as that anymore. I don’t want loads of hook-ups and flings, I want a real relationship.”

He gazed at you. “I swear we’re having a whole confession session here. Oh my God, it rhymed.”, he laughed to himself. You laughed along with him, he was pretty funny and cute. If you looked past his reputation, he was a nice guy.

After another fifteen minutes of talking and joking, firefighters had arrived and gotten the two of you out of the elevator. “Hey, Y/N, do you wanna hang out one day? Not in an elevator, of course.”, he asked you, almost anxiously as he awaited a response. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“I promise I won’t take you to a posh restaurant.”, he added as he walked away and charmingly smirked at you. You laughed to yourself and waved him off. “We can work out a date.”

#mark sloan #mark sloan x reader #mcsteamy #greys anatomy #greys anatomy x reader #greys anatomy imagine #greys abc #fem!reader

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 10 months

Text

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes

How Ace and Deuce Fantasise About Their Crush, The Prefect

Reader/Yuu is female

Masterlist

Ace Trappola

Deuce is his biggest rival so usually his fantasies involve you choosing him over his fellow Heartslabyul first year

Usually he would be goofing off ‘studying or doing homework’ and his thoughts would inevitably turn to you and he gets hit with the visual of your beaming smile and shimmering eyes lighting up in adoration as you praise him over his marks on a test like “Wow Ace! I can’t believe you got all of this right - you’re so much smarter and stronger and more handsome and better than Deuce in every way!” and he’d be filled with determination to actually study so you would kiss praise him

Sometimes he would daydream about you wearing his basketball jersey to one of his matches and cheering him on (which you do already anyway - the cheering, not the jersey wearing) and during a tense sports anime worthy match with fast action and slow motion and reaction cuts where your gazing at him admiringly (this boy is literally filming an episode of Haikyuu in his mind) and the scores are neck and neck and he’s about to throw the winning shot and he looks at you winks and is like “this one’s for you” and gets it in, single handedly winning the game and his teammates are freaking out and everyone on the stands are cheering his name and he’s handed the trophy as he’s lifted onto his seniors' shoulders and then you’re there (abandoning Deuce and Grim at the stands) and you congratulate him and you’re kissing him and he’s woken up 🙁

He’s the type of guy to daydream about you in a cheerleading outfit, waving around pom poms and cheering him on - not in a creepy, weird way but more in a cute, endearing way

During the Ghost Bride incident™, you were dressed in a wedding dress to match with all of the suitors’ groom suits and his mind did an application.exe has stopped working before rebooting and immediately got flooded with visuals of you and him getting married

Since he did punch Riddle on the reader’s behalf and flip out at Malleus over Malleus’ completely harmless ‘prank’ during the Spectral Soiree (real king behaviour, what a man *wipes tear*), he does feel protective over them so I think he’d these fantasies where he’s protecting you from danger and bridal carrying you away and you’re swooning over him like ‘my hero ♡’ and peck his cheek

He really does like writing Ace x Reader fanfic in his head, doesn’t he?

I think many of his daydreams would be more ‘what-if’ scenarios where he would lay awake in bed at night, the lights are off and his dormmates are dozing off on their own beds around him, and his mind wanders into how the events of the day would’ve played off if he actually did have the courage to act on his own desires, if he actually did admit he found your smile beautiful during lunchtime, if he actually did hold your hand on your way to class, if he actually did confess his feelings…

If the legends of old are true and that whatever you wish for, you keep, he really really hopes that he gets to keep you

Deuce Spade

It’s canon that he’s a romantic since he has an admiration for the King and Queen of Hearts’ relationship so his fantasies are very reminiscent of classical romances

I headcanon that his mother loves romantic movies and shows (both period and modern) and he loves to watch them with her (he prefers period films/shows over modern ones since he’s been a sucker for fairy tales since he was five)

Even though his fantasies of you are super innocent, he still feels super guilty over having them over his best friend. He thinks it’s wrong to think of kissing someone so kind and sweet when they only see him as a friend and he kind of hates himself for not hating the visions his mind cooks up.

He’s very protective in nature so his daydreams usually feature him saving you à la traditional fairy tale or classic silver screen damsel in distress and her dashing hero or knight in shining armour (not because he sees you as a damsel in distress - you don’t just fight off overblots and live in Twisted Wonderland without being the strongest person ever in his eyes - but because he likes the idea of being strong enough to protect you from danger or you knowing that you can always rely on him to protect you). This, though, also kind of stems from his inner guilt at not being able to save you from the harm you’ve already undergone.

He likes to imagine the two of you stargazing, your figures draped in moonlight as you kiss each other, or the two of you on a white marble balcony, surrounded by doves and baby pink blossoms falling from the trees around you, or the two of you dancing in a ballroom, or kissing in the rain, or giving you piggybacks, or picking you up and twirling you around as you laugh in pure joy, or giving you his jackets or every other cliche he wants and yearns so badly to have with you

Sometimes when he does something good like finish his dorm chores or come first in track club he imagines your voice cheering him on like ‘I knew you could do it, Deuce’

He loves it when his daydreams get domestic. His favourite one is when imaginary you and imaginary him are in a chicken coop, surrounded by baby chicks.

Whilst his fantasies are very idyllic and so flowery they could put a florist out of business, he does like the ones that tap into his past as a bad boy where he takes you joyriding on his magical wheel, your arms wrapped around his torso and head resting between his shoulder blades, or he impresses you with his mechanical skills as he fixes a car, or your patching him up after a fight (a fight that happened because imaginary you was being harassed by gang of goons and he came in and saved the day like an action hero)

When he was a stargazer, you were the one who earnestly gave your full support in his dreams and your belief that all of his wishes will inevitably be granted so would you mind terribly if he told you his hearts’ greatest desire

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #fem reader

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uglypastels · 1 month

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Okay, ya bean had a nightmare and then read a couple of your Logan fics again cause comfort. And I had an idea:

Reader has a nightmare and they wake up to Logan holding them and telling them they’re alright and he has them and the reader sees they hurt Logan but he’s healing and holding them and is soft and comforting and telling them it’s alright he heals and he’s had his fair share of claws out nightmares that readers helped him through.

Just soft Logan comforting his person like they do when he has hard times. Makes the heart warm and fuzzy.

I'm so sorry to hear about your nightmare hun but I'm glad that I (or at least my fics) could help ♥ hopefully this one can bring out a similar reaction.

warnings: slight angst but mostly fluffy comforting. nightmares. mention of wounds. reader has unspecified mutant abilities.

~ X-Men requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

It wasn’t the actual nightmare that woke you up or your own scream, but his. A wrung-out groan of pain that startled you out of your night terrors. Your cheeks had already been covered in a sheer layer of drying tears, but as you made his shape out in the dark room, more started to spill down your face.

‘Hey, shhh, it’s okay.’ Logan leaned across the bed to you, but you moved back, too aware of what you had done, not that he was having any of this. ‘No, it’s okay, Princess. C’mhere.’ It was hard to do anything against the strength his arms presented as he pulled you into a warm embrace.

‘I’m sorry,’ You sniffled out against his chest.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said hushed. One of his hands cupped your cheek, ensuring you kept your head where it was. You closed your eyes, letting the tears that escaped fall while focusing on his heartbeat. The steadiness of it certainly calmed you down.

‘Where did I—’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he didn’t even let you ask about where you had struck him. ‘It’s all gone now.’ He kissed the top of your head, and you knew he was right. Whatever marks you had left had surely already healed, but it didn’t stop you from feeling guilty.

‘I’m sorry,’ you mumbled against him.

‘I know. It’s alright.’ For the next few moments, neither of you said anything; you just pulled each other closer in the embrace. Then Logan spoke up again as he wiped some hair from your face. ‘Another nightmare?’

‘Yeah,’ was all you could reply with, feeling tired of how often you had found yourself in this scenario the last few weeks. It had started to feel as if he had to take care of you on an almost nightly occurrence as the dreams had been getting worse and worse.

‘Wanna talk about it?’

You just shook your head no against him.

‘Wanna go back to sleep?’

Again, you responded to his question in the same, slightly childish manner, making him chuckle.

‘Alright, bub.’ Maybe it was the way you were so quiet, but he could tell there was something on your mind you weren’t letting him in on. ‘What is it?’

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ you let yourself look at his face.

‘You could never hurt me, Princess.’ His thumb pressed lightly across your cheek. The minimum light from outside hit just right, so you could see it reflect in his eyes. You could see the sadness in them.

‘But I–’

‘I’m telling you, you can’t.’ He expressed it like the most matter of fact, like you had not, just moments ago, woken both of you up by unconsciously attacking him in your sleep. But somehow, the way he said it made you believe it. At least that he meant it.

‘I just…’ you sighed, trying not to overthink the images that had flashed before you in your sleep, ‘I keep having these dreams and you and— everyone I know really— everyone is in pain and agony, and it’s all because of me, and I feel so helpless.’

‘I know.’ And he would be the one person to know what you mean, having had his fair share of bad dreams. He had told you how bad they used to get as they had occurred before you had met, but even now he would still wake up in a cold sweat. ‘But remember, it’s just a dream. Everyone is okay. We’re okay.’

the end

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

#logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett x reader #x-men fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #imagine #request #logan howlett fanfic #wolverine #wolverine fanfic #x men #x men fanfiction

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gutterfuuck · 4 months

Note

Human!Mark with a Super-powered/Viltrumite!Reader

It’s cute he’s so possessive, as if we wouldn’t break him like a twig... 🙈

THISSSS this is incredible!! i am going crazy!!

i love this idea so much,, perhaps reader is an child of thragg. i am now putting my little headcanon in where i think that mark would have glasses and braces… real nerdy guy x girl that is only gentle with him… cute dynamic hehe!!

this is sfw since im writing a full fic currently, just some headcanons maybe to get the concept out there!! the fic will be called “the perfect girl”

cw: nothing really, as i have stated this is short, maybe a blurb? i am not sure haha,

the youngest viltrumite to be sent to conquer a planet. you’re sent to earth to take over another viltrumite’s mission that was supposedly cut short due to his untimely death. as soon as you burst onto the scene you’d had everyone’s attention; splattering kaijus like they were bugs, stopping criminals with your presence alone, saving those who were weaker, more susceptible to danger. you’re quick to rise as a favourite of the public, surpassing even the guardians in popularity.

mark meets you at a comic book signing at a con because of course he does. you’re there because you find humans interesting, that and you’d caught wind of a possible attack incoming at the event. you doubted they’d actually come along seeing as you’d made your presence known and you weren’t too kind with your beatdowns. you’d never admit it, but you found this type of media entertaining, the stories would interest you. even though you were a viltrumite, there wasn’t any law that said you couldn’t have a little bit of fun. (you also somewhat enjoyed the fame and the fanbases that had cultivated around you since you decided you didn’t need a superhero name, your name was good enough)

brown eyes stare at you through thick framed glasses, sparkling with interest and recognition, a goofy braced sideways smile forming on his face. you raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over your chest as you stared dead into his eyes. mark almost dropped the stacks of comic books he held in his arms, you were ethereal. he’d seen you on tv, you were all over the newsfeeds sometimes so you were hard to avoid. he thought you were beautiful before, thought you looked like an angel now. other people had gotten pictures with you earlier so he was sure there wouldn’t be a problem if he asked.

he got his picture but you had gotten his number, watched him walk away with pink cheeks, caught in a sort of daze. mark felt so comfortable to you, so… familiar..? maybe all humans weren’t so bad, mark was proof of that.

when you’d come over for dinner with his family one night, you’d finally worked out why. you’d never met nolan, but had heard stories about him growing up on viltrum. he’d been priming the planet for invasion but had been killed which put a cap on things until your arrival about two and a half years ago after you’d proved yourself worthy. you had the shock of your life when you sat at the table and squinted at your boyfriend’s father, heart dropping when you connected the dots. you and mark had been together for months now, you’d know if he was a viltrumite… had the great nolan faked his own death and fathered an offspring with no powers? you almost scoffed at the irony. what a tired and cowardly old man, the karma of having a child with no abilities must have been damning enough. you thought about you and mark’s potential future children and a warmth washed over you, the same warmth that made you feel all gooey and sickly sweet inside.

“tell me about your planet.” he’d say, resting his head on your shoulder as you watched the stars together, “ah, viltrum… haven’t you heard of it before?” you questioned, head tilted into his. you couldn’t wait to report back in a few years, couldn’t wait to tell everyone about how you’d found nolan and he hadn’t been killed… but mark would’ve been heartbroken. you couldn’t do that to him, not yet at least, it seemed cruel. plus, he had no idea what a viltrumite was, though your pride as a viltrumite felt attacked as you’d figured his father hadn’t even mentioned mark’s background to him.

you told tall tales about how you’d created the best civilisation, how your kind helped other planets and those less fortunate… you’d tell him the truth eventually, you’d have to seeing as you wanted to keep mark for as long as human lifespans allowed you to. he would open his mouth and his eyes would widen in awe, saying something about how you were like a character from his comic books which made you nod in turn, the conversation slowly changing to the subject of the comic book he’d been talking about. before you met mark, you would’ve probably never been able to experience life in such a human way. before it felt as if you had no sense of individuality, now it felt like you couldn’t stop being yourself even if it was a little alien to you.

#💬 sparkie is typing…#mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #fem reader #viltrumite!reader #💬🙈cheekiechops anon is typing…

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freakspectors · 1 year

Text

HELUVAKINKTOBER: DAY 4 - PROSTITUTION.

A Dazai Osamu | BSD x Gender-Neutral Smut Fanfic.

warnings ; smut , reader is a prostitute , rough sex, dacryphilia , hair pulling , doggy style , spanking?? maybe?? , begging , etc .

author's note ; don't worry. daddy's home. HIHI EVERYONE!!! im so many days behind but shh we dont talk about that. i got grounded and i have so much going on but remember what i said on the masterlist? fuck it, WE BALL!!!! anyways this seems really mediocre but i need to catch up really fast so... enjoy what you can ^^

heluvakinktober 2023 m.list .

Nights get desolate when the Ex-Mafia member isn’t attempting suicide. Tonight, Dazai seemed to be particularly lonely — he was yearning for another. No, not for a double suicide — get the idea of suicide out of your head, goddamn it. What the detective needed was someone to fornicate with, naturally. But a trail of broken hearts follows his path in life; all of said hearts being his own.. But hearts nonetheless.

His hands just wouldn’t do it for him this time around. No matter how fast he stroked, what he fantasized about, anything at all — he couldn’t get himself off. So, what was this renowned agent of the Armed Detective Agency doing in solution to his predicament?

He hired a prostitute.

He hired you.

Dazai’s cock drilled into your cum-stuffed hole, his shaft sliding in and out with ease. Moist sounds of skin against skin fill the room each time he bottoms out. The hefty headboard slams against the wall, its sound resembling objects falling during an earthquake. You bury your head into his pillow, moans unmuffling after each harsh thrust.

You’ve serviced many needy men throughout your career, yes, but there’s something.. different about Dazai. Perhaps it was his odd sense of charm? His concerning amount of bandages? Perhaps even the fact he’s fucking you like it’s the baby boom all over again. You couldn’t even fathom how good he felt inside of you, much unlike your older clients.

A smack on your ass brings you out of your daze. You wince at the sting, looking back at the brunette pistoning himself inside you with a broad smile on his face. His other hand rests on your hair, gripping onto you as he rails you into oblivion.

“What is it, bella? Did I hurt you too much?” Dazai pouts, gently caressing the red mark. You bob your head, eyes glossy as the young man laughs in your face. “Awe, poor baby. Do you want me to slow down?”

Before you could even muster up an answer, Dazai slowed his hips until he eventually came to a stop. You never thought you’d see yourself begging for any of your clients, but tonight seemed to be a night where everything went off course.

Fat tear droplets ran down your cheeks as loud pleas left your throat, your voice becoming hoarse. The detective rolled his eyes, a spiel of boredom in his voice when he spoke. “Oh, come on. Do you really feel that good? For all I know, you may be trying to get more money from me like the whore you are.”

You feverishly shake your head no. He wasn’t exactly wrong — nor right, actually. You’ve pretended to cum more times than you can even count; but he was the first customer you have ever been this needy for.

“P-Please, keep going, I’ll even make this session free — I just need to.. Please, Dazai,” you cry, the lump in your throat feeling worse the more you hic and sob. Dazai stares at you, speechless with a shit-eating grin. After a moment of silence, Dazai bursts out laughing at you. Feeling humiliated, you sighed and silently cried into the pillow once more. It wasn’t long before a hard thrust went into you, ripping a moan from your throat.

“Suck it up, won’t you? I never said I was stopping for good.”

@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .

#⁺˚⋆✩₊ heluvaku works .#⛧ heluvakinktober .#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou sd #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd smut #bsd dazai #bsd x reader #bungo sd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader smut #bsd x reader smut

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dancingtotuyo · 6 months

Text

10. hold you from the world and it's curse

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You begin to come to terms with things. Ellie struggles with the limits of her immunity.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy related things, angst, hurt & comfort, self worth issues, Character Death, references to canon violence and gore, talk about guns & shooting people (mercifully), lots of grief, anger,

Notes: huge thank you to my constants, my rocks @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and scream and break their hearts.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader! The final part is out now!

Words: 4933

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

When Maria was pregnant, she unashamedly let her bump grow in front of the gaze of the town. It came on with the winter months but she kept her coats unbuttoned and off while inside. She was excited, cherishing it all, marking and sharing milestones as she could. You don’t do any of it. You keep your bulky coats zipped and make sure your layers disguise your growing abdomen.

It’s not a secret by any means, but you know even in the tight-knit community of Jackson there are still people who don’t know as you approach your 23rd week of pregnancy, even if you feel twice as large at this stage as you did during your first pregnancy. It’s been getting easier to keep the layers on as the temperature falls and Christmas approaches.

But it’s only a few days from Christmas, and there’s a dance. You’ve fallen in love with the dances again. While it’s a relatively casual event as everything in Jackson is, you’re not prancing in there in your worn leggings and layered jacket. The body heat flowing between the dancing bodies is more than enough without your layer. With the extra heat you’re producing on your own, you’re sure you’d pass out in 20 minutes.

You have one option: the dress with quarter-length sleeves and a skirt that hits your knees. You basically lived in that dress when pregnant with Carter, but it accentuates your condition. That’s the last thing you’re ready for, the stares, the questions, the congratulations. You feel a vein of guilt rush through you. You shouldn’t dread people congratulating you on this.

You rest your hand on top of your swollen stomach. You’re starting to feel the baby move more often. It’s just as weird as it was with Carter, but it still sends a little thrill through you each time.

Joel walks out of the bathroom to find you sitting on the bed in his sweatshirt staring at the closet like a monster might come barreling out at any given moment. “Sweetheart,” he says. “It’s almost time to go.”

You bite at your thumbnail, the closet mocking you. It’s just a dress. Why does it feel like so much more? “We don’t have to go. Let’s just stay in.”

“After you bribed Morgan with heaven and earth to watch Carter?” He crosses his arms, eyebrows raised.

“We could just stay here? Do other things.” You shoot him a suggestive wink.

Joel seems to consider it for a moment. He surprisingly enjoys the dances. There’s something about the semblance of normalcy, and the night he kissed you in front of the whole town is a fond memory, but he likes being alone with you more. He sees through it though. You’re avoiding something.

Easing next to you, his shoulder brushes yours. He gazes at your profile as you keep your eyes pinned to the closet door. His fingertips brush along your cheek rounding behind your ear. “What’s actually buggin you?”

Chewing your lip, you finally meet his gaze, unshed tears shimmering in your eyes. “If I put on that dress, everyone is gonna know.”

He sighs, arm wrapping around your shoulders. You lean into him, your heart rate slowing. “We can’t avoid it forever.”

“I know. I just thought I could for longer.”

“Baby, you’re over halfway there,” Joel cracks a smile. “And I promise that most of the town already knows.”

“Yeah, but they don’t officially know.”

Joel wraps his arm around you, letting his hand fall over the one that rests on your bump. “We have to face it sooner or later. Maybe even embrace it?” He kisses your temple. He manages to pull a slight smile from your lips.

He rubs your arm softly as your head eases to his shoulder. “I’d really like to spin you around that dance floor, kiss ya for everyone to see. We don’t have to go for long, but I think you’ll feel better.”

You inhale deeply, nodding softly. “Help me up. I’ll get dressed.”

“Now I know you’re not that pregnant.” He grins, standing before you and pulling you to your feet anyway.

You laugh, arms wrapping around his shoulders. You sway, pressed against him for a few seconds. Your lips press against his and then he’s pressing against your hips, directing you toward the closet. “Get dressed, Sweetheart.”

He kisses your head and slips out of the bedroom. You steady yourself with a deep breath before finally opening the closet. You can do this.

Carter is sitting on Joel’s lap as he reads him a book. Morgan preps a light snack in the kitchen. You haven’t worn a dress in ages. This is the only one you own. You traded the others ages ago.

Carter sees you first, letting out a soft gasp. “Mommy, you look so pretty!”

Joel’s head snaps up, the book lowering in front of him. Carter jumps off Joel’s lap, rushing toward you. You laugh, going to your knee to accept his hug. He’s still small enough for you to pick up and spin around, squeezing him tightly too you. He laughs as you pepper his cheek with kisses. “You’re gonna listen to Miss Morgan, right?” You stare right into his eyes, keeping him at eye level with you.

Carter nods with a great solemness. His big eyes sparkle in the light, his nose pressed to yours. His bright eyes are so close to yours, so reminiscent of Gabe’s. It sends a soft ache through you that he doesn’t get to be here for these moments. “Daddy already made me promise.”

“Did he?” A grin captures your lips as you glance over to Joel.

Joel rises from the couch with a chuckle, adjusting his jeans over his hips.

“Mhmm,” Carter says, kissing your nose before he slides to the ground. He rushes off toward the kitchen. “Miss Morgan? Is my snack ready?”

Joel laughs, watching the child disappear before sliding his arms around your midsection. “You look beautiful, but that’s nothing new.”

Heat floods your cheeks. Once again you’re smiling like a flustered schoolgirl. “You gonna take me out, Miller?”

“Tempted to take you upstairs.” He winks. His hands travel down your back to your ass. No underwear lines, just as he expected to find. One of these days he’s going to figure out what you have against the damn garment. The last thing he needs to know is that you’re bare under the skirt, that when he spins you around tonight and your skirt spins you’ll feel the air moving against you.

You let out a laugh, pushing against his shoulders. “Too late for that, Miller. I put on the dress. We’re going.” You head toward the kitchen.

Joel lets out a groan trailing behind you. You give Morgan a few instructions, but she’s familiar with the routine by now. “I love you,” You kiss Carter’s cheek as he eats at the table. “Mommy and Daddy will be back after you go to sleep.”

“I know.” Carter grins proudly, face scrunching up slightly. “Love you, Mommy.”

Joel leans down, kissing Carter’s other cheek. “You behave.”

Carter cheese again, kissing both your cheeks in quick succession. “Love you, Daddy.”

“Love you too, bud.” He chuckles softly.

Joel pushes you toward the door, helping you into your warmest coat before you can find a way to stall. Your legs freeze on the way to the Tipsy Bison, cool air shooting right up your skirt. This might be the first time you’ve regretted your commitment to not wearing underwear.

Joel’s hand stays pressed to your back on the short walk over as if he’s trying to keep you from making a break to the safety of your home but The Tipsy Bison welcomes you in with warmth and vibrance, drowning out all your fears. When Joel helps you out of your coat, something amazing happens. The world keeps spinning. People go about their evening, seemingly oblivious to your arrival and your announcement. Throughout the night, you get a few stares and a few congratulations, you take them all with grace.

After exhausting you on the dance floor, your stamina not what it was thanks to your pregnancy, Joel guides you toward a back corner. Chairs line the wall but few people mill about on the outskirts.

“I’ll go get you some water,” Joel says, kissing your warm cheeks.

You smile at him as he weaves through the throngs of people. Before you can sit down, you catch sight of Ellie further down the line of chairs. She watches, arms resting on her knees, the cheer of the night like an outsider looking in, the rush and thrill of the night ineffective against her armor.

You tilt your head to the side before approaching. You ease beside her, letting out a soft sigh. You hook your foot under the legs of a stray chair to pull it closer so you have a place to prop your feet. Ellie doesn’t acknowledge you. She makes no movements that indicate she’s even aware of your presence.

You follow her line of sight to the opposing corner. Dina and Jesse are flirting like all of Jackson doesn’t have eyes. Cat rolls her eyes at something Chris Lamer says to her, a playful insult likely rolling off her lips. The sight brings a smile to your lips. At least within these walls, they can act like teenagers.

“You’re not feeling very social tonight?”

Ellie lets out a sigh, falling back in her chair. She shoves her hair behind her shoulder. It’s getting longer than you’ve ever seen it. She shrugs. “Just not feeling it tonight.”

“Wish I’d known that before I bribed Morgan to watch Carter.” You offer a teasing grin. She doesn’t return it, crossing her arms over her chest as she shifts in her seat. Your brow furrows. “What’s up, Ellie?”

She bristles, taking her time to find words. “You look nice tonight.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“People do that when they don’t wanna talk about things.”

“Which usually means they should talk about things.”

She glances over at you, unamused. You smile back, but she doesn’t say a word, letting her eyes fall back over to her friends.

“You know,” you say. “I didn’t want to come tonight.”

She looks surprised. “You and Joel love these things.”

“Yeah…” You nod, eyes scanning over the crowd. “But I can’t really hide this anymore.” You motion to your swollen abdomen. “Especially not in this dress. Which is about the only thing that fits me now.”

Her eyes flicker over to you, landing on your bump. You catch something in her eyes. “I thought you’d gotten used to it.”

“Don’t know that that’ll ever happen,” you sigh.

“Even with Joel moving in?”

That’s when it clicks. The changes. You should’ve known, or guessed. Joel brought the last of his things over last week. Ellie decided early on to stay in Joel’s house, or her house now.

“Ellie, if you’ve changed your mind-”

“No,” she cuts you off. “I haven’t- at least I don’t think I have.” She bites her lip, frame ridgid. “Guess I didn’t think it would feel any different. He basically lived over there already.”

“But his things are gone now.”

Her eyes snap to yours like you’ve hit the nail on the head. Her eyes look shiny under the Christmas lights strung from the rafters. She blinks a couple times.

“I didn’t think I’d miss that damn owl mug so much. I used to hate the way its eyes followed me when I was in the kitchen.”

A laugh tips out of your mouth. “Glad to hear it. I’ll smuggle it back over to you.”

Ellie’s head shakes, a smile pushing against the edges of her face. “Hell no. I said I missed it, not that I wanted it back in my house.”

The two of you laugh together until a comfortable silence forms between you. You feel like there might be another layer, but you’ve pushed as much as you can tonight surrounded by people. She’s smiling, the tension gone from her body, and that’s the most important thing right now.

“Change is hard.” Ellie says.

“So damn hard.” You agree. “Don’t make yourself a stranger, okay? I know you’re like kind of an adult in this world and a certified homeowner now.” You wink at her and she laughs with a shake of her head. “But we still want you around as much as we did. Really even more.”

“So you’re not tired of me?” she asks. She’s joking, but you catch the hint of a real question, that soft need for assurance.

Your arm wraps around her shoulders, tugging her close. “Never. I mean, who else is gonna talk to Carter about space. That shit goes right over my head.” She laughs, head falling onto your shoulder. “But in all seriousness, I don’t think I’d ever get tired of you, Ellie. You’re my family.”

“Guess I’m not very good at this family stuff.”

“We’re all still learning.”

She nods softly, waiting just a few seconds before pulling away. She looks better, lighter. Her eyes land over on her group of friends, seemingly glued to one particular female. You look between them, a knowing grin on your face. “You know, I think she’d say yes if you asked her to dance.”

Ellie’s eyes snap to you, confusion dancing in them.

“I’ve known you for years, my dear. You can’t hide much from me.”

She bites her lip as Joel finally materializes out of the crowd with your water in hand. “Sorry it took me so long. Adam was trying to rope me into trouble.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Stayed out of it. Cross my heart, darlin.” He leans down to kiss your cheek.

“You two are gross.” Ellie teases as she stands, stretching her arms above her head.

“Promise I can make it even grosser.” Joel chuckles, easing into the chair next to you.

“That’s not even a word.” You roll your eyes, swatting him away from you. He only laughs more, arm settling across the back of your chair, finger tips twisting and turning lightly across your shoulder.

“As much as I’d hate to see that,” Ellie says, taking a step back. She’s returned to her usual, playful self. “I’m going to join my friends.” With that, she dashes off.

You and Joel talk in hushed tones, playful flirting firing between you. He’s distracting you, definitely trying to seduce you, and it’s working. As he pulls you through the crowd, you’re surprised to see Ellie dancing with Cat.

You’re in the clinic the next afternoon when she bursts in looking wide eyed and terrified. She reminds you of the 14 year old you met two and half years ago. Your heart drops to your stomach. She was on patrol. They weren’t due back until tomorrow.

“Ellie, what-”

She collides with your chest, sobs shaking her small frame. Your arms fly around her, holding her close. Your brain wracks through names and faces. Who was she with? Who did your community lose this time? But your brain won’t work, can’t piece together who you’ve seen today tucked within the safety of the clinic and who you haven’t.

Eventually, she pulls away, eye red and swollen, cheeks flushed from crying and wind chapped. She doesn’t look any closer to sanity than when she walked in. Her eyes search frantically about.

“Ellie,” you say firmly, trying to capture her attention. She doesn’t seem to notice, slipping through your fingers when you attempt to grab her shoulders.

She scrounges through a bin until she feels the cool metal of scissors. The metal flashes in the clinic lights. She slams them down on the counter. “Cut it.”

“Cut what?” You’re confused and worried, your mind spinning as you’re still trying to process who was lost today, two days before Christmas. “Ellie-”

“My hair!” Tears stream down her hair. “I should’ve never let it get this long- I don’t even like it- and now-” Another sob breaks through, her voice cracking.

You pull her back into your arms. She fights against you. “Please, just cut it off!” She’s desperate, barely hanging on. “I want it gone.”

“Okay.” You say. “Okay. Sit down.”

She plops onto the nearest chair, eyes fixed on the letters of the eye chart straight ahead. It’s silent, nothing except the snip of the sheers. You could hear a pin drop, can hear her long tresses drop to the floor. You take it to her shoulders, about where it was when you first met her. This isn’t the first time you’ve cut her hair, but it feels like the most impactful.

“Shorter.” She says.

You place your fingers midway between her shoulders and earlobes. She shakes her head. You move a little further up and still another shake of her head. You repeat it until your fingers are right under her earlobes. Finally, you get a nod.

You hand her a hand mirror when you’re finished. She looks it over. It suits her, you think, makes her look older.

“Thanks.”

“Ellie?”

She hears the question in your voice, knows what you’re asking. She’s not sure if she can manage the words to describe the pictures looping through her mind.

“We ran into a couple infected. Got most of them except for one. I- my hair got caught on a bush.”

She holds eye contact with your reflection in the mirror. She shakes her head, the tears return. “I told Chris to go. I could handle it.”

You shudder. These are always hard, no remains to bring home, very little closure. You know first hand what it’s like, but losing teenagers on patrol is the hardest, losing someone Ellie’s age brings the danger too close.

“He came back. Put his arm in front of its mouth when it went to bite me.”

“Fuck…” it’s out of your mouth before your brain catches up.

“I told him to leave me. I had my knife. I would’ve been fine.” It's barely a whisper, her hands shake.

“Ellie.” You reach out to take the mirror from her but she slams it to the ground. It shatters.

“I would’ve been fine!” Her body shakes with all the rage it can hold, angry tears stream down her cheeks. “I had to shoot him! I would’ve been fine, but now he’s dead instead!”

You pull her into you. She tries to fight it, but you don’t let go this time, not until her tears dry up and her body stops shaking. When she pulls back, you cup her cheeks. Her voice is hoarse, scratching her throat until she settles for a whisper. “I have to do something. This can’t keep happening.”

“Ellie, it’s not your fault.”

“I think it is this time.”

Your heart breaks for her, because you see the determination set in her eyes. She’s convinced and there’s not a single thing you can say or do to change her mind.

“I could fix this. I could save people! What’s the point of everything? Why was I made immune? To watch everyone get infected and die around me?!”

“What happened to Chris wasn’t your fault.”

“He tried to save me because he thought I needed it! And then I had to put a bullet in his head. There was no reason!”

“You didn’t kill him. Cordyceps did.”

“Are you sure? Or is that just what you tell yourself so you don’t get mad at Maria for killing your husband?”

Your breath catches in your chest. You know she doesn’t mean it, but it stings. It digs deep. You had blamed her at one point, spat the words in her face, but you push it away. You apologized. She granted forgiveness. You don’t blame her anymore.

Her eyes burn with a rage you’ve never seen. You see the guilt weighing on her. You’re not sure she’ll be able to shake this one, another ghost to the host that haunts her.

It’s quiet in the clinic. You can’t explain away what she feels. This one was preventable. There was a happy ending in sight. You both know that.

“Look at my blood. I’m ready.”

“Not today.”

“Why not!?”

“You’re not in the right state of mind for this. None of us are.”

“It’s a vial of blood!”

“Not today, Ellie.” You’re firm.

“What if something happens to you? Or Joel? Or Carter? Or this baby? And I could’ve stopped it?” She’s pleading, grasping at straws.

“Another day. When you’re in a better place.”

“I can’t do nothing anymore!”

You hold her gaze. She’s stubborn, but so are you. She’s like a deer stuck in headlights, mind darting between rushing forward or darting back until it’s frozen. Then she’s gone in the blink of any eye. Only then do you allow room for your emotions to fill the empty clinic.

You’re alone for maybe an hour before Joel finds you face up on one of the cots, tears streaming from the corners of your eyes. He lets out a long sigh, kneeling at your bedside. His hand runs over your head as you turn your head to him.

“I take it you heard?”

“From the source herself.”

Joel inhales sharply. “She wouldn’t talk to me when I went over.”

You take a deep breath, chest quivering as you do. You ease into a sitting position. Joel helps you up. Your feet dangle over the side. He sits next to you, arm supporting your back.

“She feels guilty?” Joel asks.

“She’s blaming herself.” You run a hand over your face. “Chris put himself between her and the infected. Got bit so she wouldn’t.”

“Shit.” Joel cringes.

You nod, keeping the rest to yourself. It doesn’t feel right to share the rest of what happened. You walk home together. The town feels silent. You pass a few people on the street, but they’re mostly in their homes, holding their families close.

Maria comes out of Ellie’s house as you reach your congregation of houses. Unspoken words pass between you and your oldest friend. Joel kisses your head.

“I’ll go get Carter from Tommy’s,” he says, leaving you and Maria.They nod to each other in passing.

“She tell you?”

Maria nods. You catch the tension in her chest, even under her many layers. She’s reliving it too.

“You know that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” You’ve rarely heard her voice quiver.

Your arms wrap around her. She holds on to you. “I know.” You don’t have more tears to shed, but you would if you did. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know that… now.” Maria sighs, arms staying around you. “She doesn’t. Not sure she ever will.”

“I know.”

The two of you stand in the middle of the street, depending on each other for support until Joel and Tommy pull you inside, worried you might freeze. You spend the evening at Tommy and Maria’s. It’s mostly quiet. Joel plucks at the strings of his guitar. He’s only missing one string now. Elias plays contently in the corner. Carter sits beside Joel, intently watching the way his fingers play across the frets. You’re doing what the rest of the town is, leaning on family for support.

Eventually, the front door opens. Dina and Jesse pull Ellie inside. She looks like a ghost of herself, eyes skirting around trying to figure out who she should sit beside. You get the feeling you weren’t the only one who got snapped at today.

“We didn’t want to leave her alone,” Dina says.

You pick up the blanket on your lap, making room for her next to you on the couch. Her head picks up, looking for permission, like you might reject her after what she said earlier. You only nod your head and she’s falling beside you, curling up in a ball, head tucked into your side. You wrap the blanket around her.

“Thank you.” You smile up at Dina and Jesse.

They nod. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Ellie,” Dina says. Ellie manages a small nod.

The pair leaves and the quiet settles again. Joel is more thoughtful in his chord progressions, humming a soft melody. Carter makes his way toward you. He peers down at her.

“I like your hair, Ellie,” He whisper yells. Ellie’s lips tip up just a little bit, but she doesn’t move otherwise. “I hope you feel better soon.” He kisses her cheek before wiggling in between you and Maria on your other side.

Joel’s voice starts to raise as he sings. His voice has polished some the past few years, after being dormant for two decades. It reminds you more what he sounded like before the outbreak. Carter is asleep before the first song ends. As Joel transitions into another song, there’s movement in your womb. It’s happened more lately, but this picks up. Whatever the baby can hear, it likes.

You peel through your knowledge of gestational benchmarks. You’re approaching the mark that it would be able to hear sounds outside of your womb, your voice, Joel’s. The kicking ramps up. You shift and Ellie picks her head up. “Should I-”

“No, you’re fine.” You both keep your voices low.

But she looks unsure as you shift again. You let out a soft sigh, taking her hand and pressing it into the firm mass just above your hip. Her brow furrows and then she feels it, a firm thud right under her hand.

“Woah… That’s so weird.”

You smile. “You can hit back.” She looks confused. “Just nudge back. I promise, it doesn’t hurt.”

She does, a little soft at first and then harder. There’s a pause and then a double tap against her hand again.

Ellie laughs. She actually laughs. Joy flashes across her face. Her hand doesn’t move for the rest of the evening.

Joel is curled around you in bed that night, holding you tightly to him. Ellie sleeps in the downstairs guest room and you’re 98% sure you heard Carter’s footsteps head down stairs as soon as your bedroom door closed. It would hardly be the first time he’s crawled into bed with her.

Joel can feel the baby moving around under his arm. He doesn’t say anything about it, but you can feel the faint smile against your neck. Tonight with Ellie, the smile on her face as she essentially played with the baby, your baby sticks in your brain. You meant it to cheer her up, figured it would slide into that category of weird but cool. It seemed to, but it was really the first time you’d embraced the pregnancy, and it felt good.

“You think Ellie’s gonna be okay?” He asks.

You bite your lip, contemplating your response. You get a literal punch to the gut, getting out a soft grunt.

Joel chuckles. “That was a hard one.”

Something sprouts in your chest. He’s never directly acknowledged feeling the baby even though you know he has before tonight. You’re okay with it.

“The baby seemed to like your singing tonight.”

Joel’s arms tighten around you. His smile grows. “That so?”

“Yeah,” You lay your hand on top of his. “Guess you’ll have to sing more often.”

“Suppose I will.”

Silence falls again. You know he’s still waiting patiently for your response to his first question. You give it a minute.

“I think it’s going to take a long time.” You roll over so you can face him. He cups your face, thumb running across your cheek.

He nods, mouth opening to say something before he closes it, eyes roaming over your moonlit features.

“What is it?”

He sighs. “Just thought of something, but I shouldn’t-”

“What?”

“If we were out, and I got infected- I’d take care of it myself. I wouldn’t make you do that. Wouldn’t make anyone do it.”

You run your finger over the scar on his temple. It’s a serious conversation, one you hate the idea of, but you can’t help the teasing remark that comes out. “You so sure about that?”

Joel takes your hand in his, kissing each of your fingers. “To protect you, I’d do anything, Sweetheart.”

You let out a shaky breath, touching your forehead to his. “I think you’d have to put the bullet in my head.”

“Ain’t ever gonna happen. I’ll make sure of that.”

You want to shake your head at the chivalry, at the thing he can’t promise, but somehow you still believe him. Joel Miller will learn how to turn back time before he lets anything or anyone near you.

His hand falls back to your stomach, running over and around your bump. You inhale deeply, feeling drawn toward sleep.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmmm?”

“If it’s something else that gets me… where I’m not putting you in danger…”

“Joel,” You want him to stop. You can’t think of that happening. You can’t think about him not coming back to you in one piece. Especially after what happened to Paul this summer. Especially now that you’re pregnant.

“I want the last thing I hear to be your voice. Not a gunshot. That’s all.” He rubs your back.

Tears gather under the lids of your closed eyes. He’s thought about this. You fight the constricting happening in your chest, remind yourself this is all hypothetical.

“Okay.” You manage, wrapping your arms around his neck. “When we’re both old and senile, I’ll make sure to tell you goodnight so that it’s the last thing you ever hear.”

He chuckles lightly, kissing your temple. “Okay.”

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites @missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller @eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro stories #pedrostories #tlou fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #woman (joel’s version)#woman (joel miller)

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sunfyresrider · 1 year

Text

Love & Ruin 2

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, incest, SEVERE mental illness, helaemond is canon, failed plots, a disaster wedding, just targ things, too many warnings to count honestly Word count: 10k Note: I am a bad person. Im sorry it took me so long to finish but my life is a cluster fuck of bad and worse and it is a blessing I havent yeeted myself into hell. Pt three is alr in the works unlike this one. PS Helaena's and Aemond's plan did work. I just didn't directly mention what it was...yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if you're still interested) Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @caffein8me @llearlert @introverbatim @ladybug0095 @yazzzmints @heavenly1927 @rinirinse @aelora-a (srry it didn't let me tag some of you.)

“Be quiet,” Aegon growled into the ear of the whore he chose to warm his bed this morning. The squelching sounds of his thrusts slamming into her cunt echoed throughout the room. She stifled a moan and dug her teeth into the pillow below her head. Her voice did nothing, only reminded him he wasn’t you. Aegon tried to get girls who resembled you but none pleased him the same.

Today was an especially bad day for Aegon and mayhaps he was taking it out on the whore too much. Her cheeks were stained red from his slaps and surely her cervix would be bruised by how hard he was pounding himself into her. He had good reason though; you were returning home.

It took five years, but he almost was able to move forward with his life. You still plagued him in his dreams and there was a constant tugging at his heart everytime your name was brought up. You simply existing reminded him of the only time he was ever happy, and he clung to the memory like a baby clings to their mother's tit.

His family was very determined to keep you away. It worked successfully, he hadn’t heard nor seen from you at all. Every letter, every flight, every potential unsavory way of stalking your whereabouts was immediately dispelled. That was only within the first year, at some point he gave up. Aegon knew you would come back at some point; you were in love with him. But days, weeks, months, and years passed and still he received nothing.

The idea they had turned you against him murdered the last bit of hope he had. It was one of the many things that formed him into the ‘monster’ everyone believed him to be. The first was being born the first son yet being ignored for his elder sister his entire life. The night at Driftmark was the second trauma that seared a mark into his heart and brother's face forever. The third was the forceful marriage to his sister.

Aegon scarcely remembers that day or the night afterwards. He used milk of the poppy to ease his mind to the point he could hardly stand during the vows… he doesn’t know if he actually attended the first dance. He does remember the bedding and it makes his skin crawl.

He was forced to walk into and perform his own rape. He didn’t want it and would never want it. There was no daydream or drug strong enough to make him forget. It was awful in every sense of the word. Aegon cried during it and then he cried after it. No matter how much he scrubbed himself in the bathing chambers he could not free himself of the feeling of disgust. Then there was the overwhelming guilt that came after.

Aegon never touched her again, never really interacted with his own children. Why would he? He was an accomplice in her suffering as much as his own. She didn’t want to marry him either, she didn’t want to bear his children. He could never be a good husband, lover or anything of the sort to Helaena. She deserved it, he thought, to have someone who could care for her. Someone who could love her like a wife… not like a sibling.

But that would never be him and it ate him alive like the disease killing their father. She was too kind, too pure for him or any other man at court. She was stupid, yes, but with a larger heart than any of the women he’s met combined. Yet, he never brought himself to do his duty to stay loyal and cherish her like Alicent told him to. The only good thing he ever did for Hel was leaving her alone, it made her happy to be free of him. In truth, it would make everyone happier if the world was rid of him completely.

Maybe his life wasn’t over yet, maybe there was still a shred of hope for him left in the world. The reason he used to be happy was returning to him. Even if it was to marry another man… He could sort that out easily enough. When Aegon first heard the news, he wasn’t as calm. He

He could take back what was his and become the man everyone wants him to be… Or he’ll drag you down into his depravity with him. It didn’t matter, either option was a severe improvement from the existence he was currently suffering.

“Are you ready to be back?” Jacaerys inquired whilst trying to tame the loose curls on his head. The carriage ride from the doc to the keep had proved to be dreadfully long and boring. Luke was seeping anxiety that made the entire car tense. ‘Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, he’s gonna take my eye! He’s gonna kill me if I go back!’ The chants of a scared kid really did threaten to send you over the edge. ‘Just apologize, Lucerys... He’s not going to do anything while grandsire is alive. Nothing is going to happen, just say sorry before it does.’

Everything you said fell on deaf ears. His fear was expected, he took his uncle's eye and received no punishment. Granted, after hearing both sides it seemed inevitable for someone to get gravely injured. You still genuinely believed or at least convinced yourself a simple apology might just keep Luke alive for a few more years. “No brother, I would rather be at home,” you muttered in a near whisper.

Jace, always the obedient son, was oozing confidence completely unbothered by the situation. He learned that from Daemon, never let them see you falter, especially the Hightower cunts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

Your heart clenched, a sorrowful reminder of your childhood beginning to boil to the surface. A whirlwind of memories threatening to break you.

You learned how truly codependent you were on your uncle. Without him you had become a shell of whatever it was you once were. Your insecurities reigned supreme as you had an insatiable need for approval from everyone. That meant doing everything you were asked and then some to become the greatest version of yourself you could be. You took care of people, especially your brothers whom you felt the full burden for. You were the eldest and you allowed them into a situation that got them hurt and another child maimed.

It wasn’t just your insecurities; your moods would take a turn quicker than before. At the drop of a hat, you could be raging or hysterically crying. Sometimes you didn’t even understand why. You became obsessive over little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For example: how your dresses were fitted, how your hair was styled, and what you ate and drank. It wasn’t in the front of your mind at the time, but you did things in the way he always preferred.

Without him, deciding on things became hard. You never needed to think before because he did it for you. Not only that but you became a chronic liar. It wasn’t on purpose, sometimes things would just slip out. You were great at denying any problems you had and chalking them up to your blood moon. You denied any relationship with Aegon and defended him more than he deserved. Especially since he so carelessly abandoned you. No letters, no visits, he left you with fucking nothing. You started to convince yourself you never loved him; it was just pity. You had a burning desire to rescue him and mistook it for genuine affections.

Four years ago, almost to this very day the invitation to the prince and princess’s wedding had just reached your doorstep. You learned that day just how much you did love him because when the letter was read you cried so much you vomited. You stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped doing all the things you love and rotted in your bed waiting for the pain to subside… Or for the stranger to take you.

The image of him touching her the same way he did you, the idea of him whispering the same things he did to you, the way she would cry out his name like you did… It made you want to rip your hair out and peel your skin off. She probably had an extremely elegant dress; the throne room was probably filled with music and guests, and they would ride their dragons together to show off their union… You tore all the clothes he liked to shreds and punched a hole in your mirror…

Originally, you never had any disdain for your exceedingly kind and misunderstood aunt but now it was pure untamed hatred. The jealousy was incredible, truly you would be confined to a prison cell if you acted on the things you thought up.

You could kill both of them and end the war before it even started. You prayed she would miscarry the twins, it didn’t happen. You prayed he would get too drunk and die from alcohol poisoning, obviously it didn’t happen. You prayed the entire keep would be set on fire and everyone within it would die burning in flames just as your father did… it did not.

You were never good enough for him. He abandoned you and left you to rot after taking something so important from you. You were a fool, a naive idiot. The fear of being abandoned personified ever more when your mother gave birth to two legitimate children. Everyone was going to abandon you and it was driving you insane. You had mastered the art of pretending, no one was able to tell what was underneath the surface.

Jacaerys was really the only person who noticed the change. He was the only one who saw through your lies and facade. And he was the only one who genuinely helped you overcome the complete insanity you had sunk into. He pulled you out from drowning in a sea of madness and kept you afloat ever since. In turn, you felt a little guilty for your wicked thoughts and desires, but you were atoning for them by good will and actions.

Still, sometimes late at night when you were alone, he would come back. The memories would come flooding in and sleep would evade you. He had burned a scar into your heart that never fully healed and probably never would. According to your mother who said the first heartbreak is always the worst and most memorable. You didn’t want to come back. You didn’t ever want to see Aegon Targaryen again.

“No, it’s because- ” You hit your head on the back of the car, knocking the air out of your lungs. The carriage came to a halt, catapulting Lucerys forward into the other seat. Jacaerys bursted into uncontrollable laughter as he rubbed his forehead from the impact.

It was a great start to a visit, a crash landing. Surely, not foreshadowing the rest of your adventure. As you unpiled from the carriage a welcome party stood there waiting for you. It was unexpected, seeing your grandsire there in decent health, you heard he was much worse.

Then there were the Hightowers, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Your eyes scanned over them one by one, Alicent wore her plastered fake smile as usual, Otto stood too stiffly and only looked at Daemon, Aemond looked ready to murder you all. He was far different from what you remembered, tall, slender, and handsome even with one eye.

Then there was Helaena… Completely disassociated from whatever was happening and mumbling under her breath. You smiled, the rage you felt before when you imagined her was gone. You had actually healed and successfully moved forward. This was good, so great you could even hug her…

Until your eyes moved to her left. The sunken feeling in your chest blossomed into a new monster threatening to devour you. Your smile faded; your heart began erratically pumping blood to all parts of your body. Your knees locked in place trying to keep your balance.

Aegon… Aegon was only ten feet away and yet there seemed to be miles between you. It was a joke, a great joke, he looked more gorgeous than he ever had. His hair was cut to frame his face perfectly, his jaw was more defined, his dark circles brought out the beautiful sea blue that surrounded his pupils.

The smile that adorned his face was larger than any you had seen him wear prior. His eyes twinkled with childlike glee. The corset you wore became suffocatingly tight and the heat in King’s Landing began to make your head spin. Your breathing was rapid, a million emotions coursing their way through your head.

Aegon took a step down the stairs, your body wanted to flee but you were frozen in time. Another step, all the air in your body left you. A third step made all the bile in your stomach rise to your throat. His feet touched the ground, and he strode towards you, the world started to spin, your mind racing with the worst possible outcomes.

You blinked, for a mere second. You reminded yourself it had been five years; he had no hold on you anymore. He was a monster, a terrible man and a worse son. Aegon was not going to get under your skin, you were not going to falter in front of him. You were better now, you moved on, you were mentally healthy…

You opened your eyes, inhaling a deep breath. He was one pace in front of you, “Niece.”

Disappointment, Aegon was riddled with it every day and today was no expectation. He was so excited his soul wanted to jump out of its skin. But no, the second he approached you passed out and all the sudden he was the villain. What could he have possibly done a foot away to make you faint?

Unless you were too excited to see him, your heartbeat too fast and you fainted. It would make the most sense, reuniting with the person you truly love would send anyone over the edge. It almost made him faint when he first laid eyes upon you.

Gods you were so much more beautiful than he could have imagined. You had grown into a gorgeous woman, easily the prettiest one at court. Your eyes sparkled like diamonds, your hair flowed perfectly down your face, and your cheeks still flushed bright pink when you saw him.

Your dress hugged your figure in all the right places and the things he imagined laid beneath made him insatiably horny. Control, he had to remind himself it’d been years and he needed that. It was hard considering the two days you’d been here he had only seen one glimpse. One quick glimpse in the courtyard before you were stolen away again.

Your chambers were only a few hallways away and he could see you anytime he wanted. And yet, Aegon had to plot when to corner you. There was not only a hoard of guards following you around every step you took but Jacaerys clung to your skirts like a lost orphan.

So, he waited and waited… and fucking waited until he was practically ripping the hair from his skull. The lack of your presence was okay on the first day, the second it was tolerable but by the third day it became suspicious. Impatient and spoiled, his mother’s words rang true more and more each day.

It was increasingly clear that it wasn’t just them keeping you from him, but you were putting extra care into avoiding him. What did he do wrong? The stalking? The letters? The gifts that were never opened. It was all obvious professions of love… Why would you be uncomfortable with that?

Aegon was nursing another goblet of wine as he sunk to the floor. His face felt wet as if he were crying… Was he crying? His body to the point of numbness he could not tell any longer. Sadly, it seemed the wine was not working to cure the ever-disheartening thoughts in his mind.

You were going to get married and forget all about him. They hadn’t given him a single opportunity to attempt to carve his way back into your heart and most likely weren’t going to. What was the reason for living at this point? The one thing he yearned to touch was so close yet so far.

He scoffed at himself. Aegon was no tragic poet, but he was beginning to sound like one. It was the alcohol, a new type probably causing his episode. He went to grasp the corner of the table to stand up, but his legs could no longer withstand his weight. The contents on the table along with his own body fell to the floor.

Not one of his proudest moments to date.

“You’re pathetic,” an irritating voice laced with superiority drew him out of his head. “Brother, have you come to visit your- I mean my children? They aren’t here.” Aemond clenched his jaw once, twice until he let out a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Aegon, there was no winning against someone fueled by pure delusions.

He would never come to see his- Aegon’s children in his room. They would be with their sweet mother far away from the monstrosity they called dad. “We’re all being forced to attend her wedding tourney.”

“When?” Aegon’s eyes lit up and the sunken expression finally lifted. “At dawn,” Aemond took a step back before the smell of wine, sweat and uncleanliness of three days seeped into his nose. “For the love of the seven take a bath!”

Hope, there was still hope left in the world! All of the sudden he had awakened, the whimpering pathetic mess he was a few moments ago was long forgotten. The gears in his brain began turning…

As Aemond strode out of Aegon’s chambers a new plan formed into the mind of the monster himself… “Little brother,” he sang with a cruelty only Aegon could possess. “Will our dear uncle Gwayne be participating?”

Aemond did not loathe his brother as much as everyone believed he did. Yes, he was jealous Aegon the wastrel was first born, and he was not. Yes, he was jealous Helaena was forced to marry the pig instead of him. No, he did not blame his brother for any of this. Solidarity was exceedingly important in times like these, future succession wars and all.

What he learned was, Aegon hated being married to Helaena as much as she did. Aegon didn’t want to be king and would gladly give it to Aemond if the time came. Lastly, as sad as Aegon could be he was fiercely loyal to his family. If it came down to it Aemond knew his brother would die for them… or take an eye instead.

“Has he stopped wallowing in his sorrow?” Even when she insulted people Helaena’s voice sounded like angels in his ear. “No, though he has come up with another borderline war crime plan.” She let out a deep sigh as she fiddled with the needle she used to sew. “Should I ask?”

“He’s urging Gwayne to kill the Fiance before they have a chance to wed.” Helaena stifled a laugh; she should be offended he would dishonor her or even vengeful since her husband dare tried to intervene on another woman’s affairs. Instead, she bit her lip from smiling, “I should be glad she is not as deranged as him or I may not be here today.”

Aemond rose from his seat and sat down next to her. His long fingers gently caressed the side of her face, pushing back the strands that obscured his view of her violet eyes. “I would kill her before she could ever lift a finger.”

Helaena gently tugged Aemond’s hands away from her face, cupping them in her lap. “Aems you are far too serious. She’s still as sweet as a rose I hear…”

There was a sudden silence between them, not uncomfortable in the slightest but eerily still, nonetheless. If Helaena was being honest with herself, she felt terribly for you. She couldn’t imagine what pain he had caused or what exactly he had done to cause you to faint at the mere sight of him.

She could imagine, Helaena simply wished not to burden herself with those thoughts. You were her savior in a weird sense of the word. Because of your existence her brother did not attempt to bed her or force heirs upon her, he did not touch her, he did not bother her unless requested of him. You kept his mind preoccupied, so she wasn’t completely trapped in a horrid marriage such as her mothers. Aegon was a good brother and only a brother… Sometimes she worried what would happen if you ceased to exist.

Still, she was trapped in a marriage. Aemond and Helaena had two vastly different reasons for wanting you around. Helaena wanted to see Aegon content, happy even if they were lucky. And if things happened the way it did in her dreams… Their marriage would be annulled and you two could wed and she could continue to do as she pleased with the father of her children. A fairytale but she was known for being the dreamer.

Aemond simply wanted his brother to get off his fucking ass and do something with his life. He wanted him to stop whoring, to stop pushing away duties, and to start taking matters seriously. The only way he was going to do that was if his favorite toy was promptly returned to him. You also kept Aegon far away from his beloved Helaena, that was merely a bonus.

If he had to choose, obviously he would have not chosen his brother to become obsessed with one of the bastards, it couldn’t be helped anymore. The seeds of whatever drug Aegon made you take to enjoy him had already been planted. The spell you used to seduce him had already begun working.

At the very least you defended them… somewhat. It was enough to make him wish you were dead even less. He had to remind himself, though you were a bastard and related to his sworn enemy, you were also just a woman. As his mother once said, ‘all women are created in the image of the mother and to be spoken of with reverence… And to be treated as such!’

Aemond let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We’re going to find a convoluted way to help him, aren’t we?” Helaena hummed to herself for a moment, was there any way they could really help you? “Do you believe she is distant because she believes he abandoned her?”

They gazed at each other for a moment, a silent agreement. You were easy to read, at least to the dreamer herself… “Yes Aems, I think we are.”

The dress you were forced into was unbearably tight, the summer sun had seeped through the red fabric and your blood felt as if it was boiling. The royal stand was too crowded, too many unwelcome faces and bodies suffocating you. The noise of horses and knights preparing to show off for your favor made your ears ache. Unbearable, that was the best way you could describe your current predicament.

The fainting spell was enough to have your mother confine you to chambers. She knew, your brothers knew, the Hightowers knew, everyone in the entire keep could see through you both. At every single turn you were specifically swayed far away from your uncle. Absolutely no contact, especially since you were to be married.

That’s what the entire day was for, to celebrate you being sold off to a son of Dorne. If the heat in King’s Landing doesn’t kill you first, then surely the sun there will do the job. You hoped your death would come sooner rather than late.

If the day could not go any worse the sound of someone taking a seat next to you caused you to flinch. You could smell him, practically taste the wine emitting off of him. Then there was the seat to your left, the scent of flowers filled your nose. Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t dare move or breathe…

A gentle hand that was as soft as a feather pillow touched yours. “Don’t be nervous.” Helaena, of all the people in the world you did not expect her to say such. Especially now, since you were separating husband and wife or did, they purposely do this to torment you further? “If I’m sitting in your place I can move, princess.”

You kept your head turned to her, trying your hardest to ignore the one sitting far too close to your right. Where was your mother? Your brothers? Where was your family to rescue you? “Nonsense! I purposely asked Jacaerys to let me sit next to you.” To the right, you could feel two violet eyes burning holes into the back of your skull.

“How lovely,” you muttered out trying to find your family from the corner of your eyes. How in the seven hells was he next to you? You turned your body towards the crowd, an invisible shield in your mind blocking you from turning the other way.

Behind you, your entire family was in the row above staring daggers into Aegon. Of course, he stole Lucerys seat before he had a chance to protest. The sound of trumpets blaring, and the weakened voice of your grandsire distracted you, momentarily from the hell you were living in.

A warm and soft hand was placed over your own. Dragging your nails from tarnishing the skin around them. “Afraid your husband to be is going to lose?” It felt as though a bolt of lightning shot down your back. You bit your lip, no you wanted him to lose and potentially be stabbed in a duel. You actually want to be stabbed too right now.

Milk of the poppy was your savior. That’s what had been prescribed to keep you grounded. It’s why you’re not currently on the floor unconscious. It's why you decided to engage in conversation instead of keeping your mouth shut. It's why you let his hands caress your own and bask in the warmth they provided. It wasn’t you; it was the medication.

“Why aren’t you participating in the tourney?” You could feel a smile curve onto his face, though you swore not to look. “Why would I? Do you want me to compete for your favor?” You turned to look at him, shocked by the accusation you would want him of all people competing for you. That was a fantasy of children, a dead one at that.

A mistake was made when you glanced at him. Gods, he was beautiful in the most pathetic way possible. The dark circles, the smug smile, the unruly hair, the piercing eyes and the jaw with just a tad of baby fat encompassing it. You forgot his lady wife sitting next to you, you forgot your family watching you. For a moment, it was just you looking at the pretty monster who ruined you. A shimmer of hope, a memory of childhood championship bubbled to the surface.

“No Aegon, I think you would lose,” you jested. His eyes sparkled; his subtle grin turned into a wide blinding smile. “I think I already have your favor.” Your mouth parted to speak, cheeks brimming red from the implication.

Down below the sounds of cracking shields and screams of pain stifled by armor were becoming the loudest noise. A Blackwood had just begun a duel with a Bracken and… his entrails were staining the tan colored sand a dark shade of crimson. You felt bile rising up in your throat as you unconsciously tightened your drip on Aegon’s hand. An act that didn’t go unnoticed and was quickly returned.

“Not a fan of bloodshed?” His voice sounded softer, almost kind versus his usual unserious tone. He was staring at the side of your face and his eyes shone with mild concern combined with amusement. Aegon was always one for violence, not you. By no means were you against it, seeing the insides of someone’s stomach simply didn’t suit your fancy.

“And the day grows ugly…” Helaena let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the scene below. Her voice made you quickly realize how disrespectful you were being towards their marriage. In a second, your hand was ripped out of his grasp and placed firmly on your lap. Avoid, you avoided both of their looks and your gaze moved strictly forward.

You could have sworn you saw a flash of Aemond’s eyepatch and his fingers patting at her knee. Oddly enough, you were very suspicious of brother and sister relationships considering the family you were born into. Thank heavens you were amongst the normal ones… almost.

“You’re not wrong, Hel. You’re not wrong.” Aegon’s voice had lost all its original sympathetic tone as his lips formed into a pout like a spoiled brat. “Princess! Your favor would surely help me win this tournament if you could be so kind.”

The sound of your fiancés voice made you want to sink into the abyss of your mind and let it swallow you. Maybe even feed yourself to Vhagar much like your late aunt Laena did. Aegon looked worse, enraged and annoyed to the utmost level.

His body moved slowly towards your fiancée, and you swore if looks could kill he would be dead. You didn’t flinch or falter this time. You no longer frowned at the sight of the man you were supposed to marry. In fact, you were bubbling with joy.

The second Martell son held a huge smile while he waited for you to place your favor on his lance. You did your best to make a spectacle out of it, wishing him luck as loudly as you could. Your mother was smiling proudly, surely congratulating herself on a fine match she had made.

She didn’t understand, you weren’t happy because of him. You were happy to see Aegon leaking envy from his pores with the most miserable look on his face. Now he was feeling exactly what you did and it felt fucking fantastic. You gracefully sat back in place with a smile that went ear to ear.

“Would you like to place a bet on who will win, uncle?” He shifted in place, his eyes following the black mare your fiancée rode. “I don’t intend on betting coins, niece.” An awfully smug look creeped onto his face. “What are we betting?”

Aegon leaned into you, so his mouth nearly brushed over your ear. His breath was heavy and laced with confidence. His whispers sent a shiver up your spine that glued you in place. “If Gwayne Hightowers knocks your beloved husband off his horse I get to claim you in front of everyone.”

“…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the world paused. Heat rose from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, radiating in all directions. The drugs were no longer keeping your very unstable emotions at bay. Your cheeks were not just flushed by the idea but from the crushing reminder he was not yours to claim. He was stolen from you and didn’t mind until you showed back up. No letters, no secret rendezvous, no gifts on name days or holidays… To Aegon it was always just a game.

A game he was still fucking playing at your own expense. Could he not see he had done enough? He had ruined what sliver of self-respect you had years ago? What else was there for him to take besides your life. Your original despair turned into something hateful, “My husband will win and when he does you have to stay away from me for as long as I’m here.”

His mouth hung agape as he was trying to debate this completely unfair bet. Aegon was going to make a jest, defend himself or anything really before the trumpets blared loud enough for the deaf to hear. “Hmph,” you turned in your seat, stone faced, chin held high, completely ignoring his presence to watch the knights begin to mount their horses.

Ser Gwayne Hightower was wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm was in the shape of a lantern… It looked completely ridiculous. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a powerful white charger, and his lance appeared to be held firmly in his grip. From all the stories you’ve heard, he was an amazing knight. He’d won many tourneys in the past and nearly knocked down Daemon once.

Your fiancée was on the other side, and he certainly did stand out… The golden decor on his armor was perhaps a bit much and he refused to wear a helm. His horse was beautiful albeit not as powerful as the charger. It wasn’t looking very good.

You were too busy praying to the seven for mercy when the two horses took off. In a flash their lances connected, and poor Quentyn was nearly thrown off. You heard a snicker from the corner, and you whipped your head to stare at the smirk plastered all over Aegon’s face. “Heh look at that!” No fucking way, no way in the names of any god would he get to do anything with you. “Fuck you, uncle,” the venom laced words seeped out of your mouth before you could contain them. Your perfect facade was beginning to break so quickly.

“That can be arranged.” You gritted your teeth and your nostrils flared. Seeing him win in anyway made you want to snatch a sword and shove it right between his fucking…

“We have a winner!”

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and you forgot whatever your last thought was. You stood up from your seat to gaze at the ground and surely enough…

“Quentyn Martell has won the favor of the Princess!”

Heh heh heh…. You turned to look at him with a smirk only the divine could wear, “I win.”

He miss stepped, Aegon had completely misread the situation at hand. Her mind had been completely poisoned by those… those cunts! And Gwayne completely fumbled the fucking tourney. This added more layers to the issues already at hand. Firstly, her husband needed to go and fast. Secondly, he had to untaint her mind. Thirdly, how the hell was he going to keep her here with him? Aegon only had a single day and night to do it…

CRASH

Another empty goblet of wine was thrown into the wall. The small shards covered the floor like winter snow tainted by red droplets of wine. The prince was raging and drinking… ceaselessly. “For the love of the seven will you sit down!” Aemond watched unamused, on the edge of storming out himself at this display. It was getting annoying how easily irritated his brother was becoming. Aegon stomped across, “We have to kill him… Preferably sooner rather than late.”

“We could tell the truth about her virtue and have a Septon annul the marriage… avoid making any unnecessary enemies.” Aegon pivoted to stare at Aemond, face void of any signs of agreement. “Yes, and besmirch her reputation in the process… Ha! That will surely make her crawl into my bed.”

Aemond really fucking hated sarcasm above all forms of conversation. “Oh, great manipulative tactician, what exactly were you thinking?” His steps paused as he toyed with the knife he kept on belt. He wasn’t a genius nor was he overly capable of manipulation like his grandfather…

“It can only work if she is obsessed with me again.” The younger brother let out a groan, rubbing his face with both his hands. “What exactly are you planning to do?”

A wicked smirk curled its way onto his lips. His pupils momentarily turned dark, “Not I, dear brother, what are you going to do.” Aemond lowered his hands, so his eye picked through, raising an eyebrow.

—

“This won’t do,” Rhaenyra declared as she tossed another necklace laced with jewels onto the floor of your chambers. “Mother!” you gaped as the expensive piece fell to the floor. She pursed her lips together, fingers grazing the delicate jewelry laid before you. “My first born, my only daughter is getting married… Tacky crystals won’t do.” You sunk deeper into your chair, twirling your wet hair in between your fingers.

Rhaenyra closely examined a few more pieces, none of which suited her exquisite taste. She turned to you, her eyebrows creasing together. “You look more pale than usual.” You looked up at her and her eyes were laced with concern. One thing about your mother is that you could never lie to her. She knew you more than you knew yourself. The slightest bit of discomfort she could snuff out and exile it from your mind.

“I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Her gentle hands went to comb through your hair. “If you changed your mind and don’t wish to get married, I could always have Daemon, take care of it.” You choked up a laugh, “threatening murder on my wedding day? How very festive.”

A small smile made her lips curve upwards. She let out a breath, plucking a necklace off the counter and holding it to your neck. “Is it him?” The dragon necklace made of diamonds laced with gold details seemed to taunt you. “No, he hasn’t bothered me at all.” A bold-faced lie that your mother could see through instantaneously. Rhaenyra wrapped the necklace around your throat and clasped it in the back. “Really? He seemed to bother you at the tourney.”

The necklace seemed to be choking you though it wasn’t tight at all. It would have been something you wore if you were getting married to him instead. A golden dragon paying homage to Sunfyre… “Just playful banter. Honestly it went far better than expected.”

She looked as if she was about to contest what you said but three knocks at the door caught both your attention. It slowly creaked open revealing a maid no older than fifteen. She stood meekly in the entrance shifting eyes between your mother and yourself.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you; the king requested your presence.” Your mother raised her brow, questioning the situation at hand. You gave a nearly unnoticeable nod, reassuring her everything was all right. She clapped her hands together, “You’re not disturbing anyone! My love I’ll return shortly.”

Rhaenyra strided out the door with the confidence only a queen could possess. You envied the way she carried herself no matter the situation. You slumped back down into your chair staring at yourself in the grandiose mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Daemon rid you of your husband… If anything, he would probably take pride in having something to hold over your head.

But a war was brewing, it was an inevitable fact that no one could deny and soon it would be impossible to ignore. You needed the dornish alliance, and you were the perfect bargaining chip… Curse the seven for making you a woman.

“You look like you’re in agony. Already getting the wedding blues?” It’s no use asking how he snuck in, it’s no use asking why he was here, and it’s absolutely no fucking use to start panicking. “Uncle, I thought we had an agreement.” His steps were light, almost frolicking to stand behind your seat in front of the vanity. Aegon’s face was the ideal image of serenity, you couldn’t say the same for yourself.

“It’s your wedding day! Surely, I can offer my congratulations on this joyous day.” There wasn’t an honest way you could describe the pain within your chest. It felt as if a blade had carved a hole within your heart that refused to heal. A dark abyss threatening to swallow you whole. He wasn’t meant to be happy; you were supposed to be cheery. Aegon was meant to pin after you until he died… Not move on and get married, have children, and celebrate your own wedding.

You didn’t feel the tears quietly falling from your eyes or the way your lip was quivering. His hand moved to graze your shoulder, but you jumped out of your seat, snapping your head back to face him. “Don’t touch me!” He put his hands up in mock surrender, “W-woah…”

“Did you come here to torment me some more? Do you revel watching me be so miserable?” He stumbled back, muttering some incoherent apology that fell on deaf ears. “You abandoned me! You left me like a dog and went to go playhouse with your perfect fucking family, perfect fucking wife and two perfect children.”

One of the many things you were shouting must have triggered something within him. Aegon grabbed your shoulders with such force you almost buckled under their grip. He shook you like a child would shake their pet if it stopped listening. “Perfect? Have you become fucking delusional? What part of a forced marriage to your sister sounds perfect to you?!”

“Let me go! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You shouted in between sobs. “No! You’re telling me you’ve been ignoring me for years because you’re fucking jealous?” You swatted at his face, attempting to grab him by his hair to pull him down. Poor idea, Aegon always thought violence was exciting. Somewhere amidst the fight you ended up wrestling on the ground shouting curses at one another.

“I hate you! I would never be jealous of you!” Aegon shiftly straddled you and began fighting to grab your wrists again. To make it all the more unbearable the bastard was smiling. “Bullshit! It’s seeping off of you.” You bit down on his hand that came just a little too close to your mouth. He growled, slamming on wrists behind your head. “Seven hells will you calm down and listen!”

You writhed underneath him, albeit with less screams of curses. This rather pathetic display went on for only another minute before he forced his lips onto yours. It was rough, mainly teeth clashing together and lips fighting against one another. Part of you wished it could continue, to relive your past one more time before you were sold off.

The other part of you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Aegon relented, a droplet of blood staining his swollen bottom lip. Whatever spell he had put on you had worked; you were quiet and unusually still. “Look at me.” You turned your head to face the wall, refusing to be trapped by those damned eyes. “Look at me!” Begrudgingly, after being shouted at, you looked at him. “My marriage is not happy. I swear on my own life I only bedded her once. I was so drunk I can’t even remember if it truly happened…”

“More lies… You have two children.” He scoffed, looking around the room as if asking the seven for patience. “Oh, for the love of- Do you really think those are mine? Just look at them!” Aegon appeared unbelievably desperate for you to believe him. His eyes frantically searching yours for any comfort…

The twins did appear more similar to one brother than the other… Jaehaera herself was a spitting image of Helaena only. “I don’t believe you…” His face dropped as if you had taken an arrow to his heart. “But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’m getting married tonight.” A foolish course of action on your part because you gave him hope. A dangerous thing if given to the wrong people and he was by far the wrong person.

He pressed his mouth against you once more, this time his soft lips caressed your own gently. The taste of wine and iron coated your tastebuds, and it wasn’t at all displeasing. It was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. He pulled his right hand away from your wrist, almost giving you time to escape. But the second your arm moved he grabbed it with his left. A gentle, almost comfortable, kiss was turning into a desperate one.

Aegon’s tongue slid into your mouth doing circles with your own. Your breaths quickened as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then kissing it before letting go again. His hands slid down to your thighs, cupping them firmly in his warm palms and massaging their shape. You shivered when his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, it had been so long since anyone had touched you.

The wedding you were supposed to be attending today became a distant memory as he kissed you senseless. His lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his nose grazed yours again you found yourself trembling with need.

“You have missed me,” he whispered breathlessly. You wanted to say no, that your body was betraying you but when his fingers grazed your unclothed cunt all you could mutter was “ah, ah, ah~”

His tongue flicked out and traced up the side of your neck, then back down. He slipped his tongue inside of your ear, and then swallowed down all of your words. His fingers began gently teasing at your clit, sliding between your wet folds, rubbing it painstakingly slow. You whimpered into his mouth, begging him to do more.

Aegon wasn’t supposed to give it all to you so easily but… Forcing in a few fingers was far from all he could do. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your slick folds, making sure to tease your clit each time. His eye had a wicked gleam to them watching you come undone underneath him, “you think you’ll be happy with another man? You think he’ll be able to please you like I do?”

You opened your mouth but all that came out was a muffled cry. “No one knows your body like I do. No one can ever please you like I do.” His fingers moved swifter curling up to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Your legs buckled around him as you began to moan ceaselessly. A wicked smile took over his features, “be honest with yourself everytime you try to fuck another man you’ll be imagining me, my lips, my tongue, my fingers and my cock inside of you.”

Your arms fell limply by your sides, the world spinning in circles as a delicious haze descended upon you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his fingers as he continued to push them deeper inside of you. “I’ve already ruined you, what other man could want you? Who do you belong to? Say it!”

“Y-You! Aegon! I belong to you.” You cried out in pleasure, your voice echoing through the room. He pressed his lips against you once more, swallowing all the noises you made as your cunt tightened around his thick fingers. “That’s a good little girl,” He purred as your orgasm washed over you.

“Aegon…” You breathed, your head lolling to the side as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering pussy. He sat up, face returning to its usual expression of complete nonchalant. “I’ll give you time to get all dressed up, recite vows you do not mean with a stranger, dance until your heart's content and then I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.”

He leaped off of you swiftly, lazily fixing his hair and wiping the blood from his mouth. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “What in the seven hells?” Aegon smiled at you, but it wasn’t one of genuine joy. It was sick with cruel eyes behind it. “You’ll see.”

The seeds of doubt had been planted into your mind and had already begun to sprout. The once joyous occasion was quickly turning into a fucking nightmare. To be Frank, you really wish you were dead instead of standing up here reciting vows you did not mean. It was awkward, unbelievably awkward. For five years your beloved had been pining for you and you were too blind to see it.

Or it was all a sick joke being played on you. Which one was worse you did not know. Your entire family stood there, smiling, your mother nearly on the verge of tears seeing her only daughter preparing to start a family of her own… Gods, is this how Aegon felt all these years knowing he was the disappointment? You had been completely soiled and yet here you stand with your new husband… Aegon’s scent and markings weren’t even fully off of you!

The entire ceremony was eerily calm. No random bursts of violence or protests to your union. Which means your uncle may or may not intend to murder and or maim this man tonight. Any sound of mind woman would be sick at the thought and run for aid… Obviously you were not at all that type of girl. Currently you were jumping out of your skin waiting for him to finally arrive and rescue you.

The only issue was, he never did show up. Not for the first kiss, not for the first dance, not for the speech his father was barely able to make or the feast itself… Did he intend to ignore you until it was all over?

____________________________________

Aegon was unbelievably late to the wedding celebration. It was on purpose; he had a few loose strings he needed to tie before he arrived. For once he was sober and painstakingly polite as he walked in. It is fair to mention he had the servants meticulously fix his normal disheveled appearance so he could make an impression on you.

When Aegon first entered the great hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a grand table adorned in the finest gold sits on a raised dais. The royal table is flanked on either side by rich red tapestries, ornately embroidered with the sigils of the houses respectively. If only he could burn all of the dornish banners with Sunfyre.

As he moved throughout the room, Aegon was struck by the attention to detail. Everywhere you looked, you saw the sign of the union between two powerful houses, a testament to the joyous occasion for which this room has been decked out. It was fucking disgusting and Aegon wanted to puke on it.

The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies alike from all across the realm. In the center, just in front of the throne sat the royal table. On the opposing sides of the room were the packed tables for the highly esteemed guests. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing and eventually the marriage itself…

He wished he could throw himself into the spikes of the throne. Instead, he had to slither his way through the crowds to make way to the table. Aegon was tired of waiting, He was tired of hearing your family gawk at the well-made match and he was especially tired of doing nothing. Your husband would be dealt with in due time, but he hadn’t the patience to pretend not to be itching to speak to you, to touch you, anything but sit here and fucking watch.

He finally pulled himself up onto the podium and marched his way in front of you. You seemed stunned, miserable, in awe of his beauty. All of which were better than you being happy to be wed. "I'm insulted you have yet to ask me to dance, uncle." His lips twisted into his usual overly confident smile. “didn’t want to disturb the happy couple so soon.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it. There were stares from certain people of course, those who knew what happened at Driftmark and potentially before. You didn’t really care anymore.

For a moment, he was the perfect gentleman. Placing his hands in only the proper places and spinning you around the floor with ease. If you were a normal family, this would be a sweet interaction between relatives… But you were twisted and Targaryens. “You know, I’m putting more effort into this dance than my own wedding.” You scoffed, “Oh joy, surely no one will find this suspicious at all.”

Aegon’s face mirrored disgust as he glanced around you. “Is something the matter?” He rolled his eyes, "Your dearly beloved is gawking." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. Surely enough, the pretty dornish prince was smiling ear to ear watching you…"Do something about it."

The mischievous look Aegon always wore as a child made its reappearance. It was quick, his hands grasping onto your face and pulling you so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You would let me dishonor you in front of all these people, bad princess.” You whined trying to lean up into his face, but he pulled back, “tsk tsk, can’t let your husband see you so needy for my affection now, can we?”

You wished he would stop referring to him as your husband. You wished he would stop reminding you of what waited for you after the night ended. “Sister… Prince Aegon.” Jacaerys appeared from behind like a thief in the night. Immediately souring any positive mood Aegon could have been in. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Nephew.” He gritted through his teeth with a subtle bow.

“Princess, would you dance with me?” You glanced between the two and felt the humiliation of the situation beginning to seep in. Your mother was on the high podium with a faux smile and a death grip on her fork observing you… “Of course! Let’s go little brother.”

The dance was alright… But you couldn’t get your mind off of the Lannister girl who was practically drooling at the sight of Aegon. He had slept with her before you knew this much. A secret part of you kept track of the whores he buried his cock inside, at least the rich ones. What happened next was honestly a blur, you couldn’t remember a thing. Except that you may or may not have called her a whore and threatened her life if she dared to touch him… She scurried away with her hands on her and tears in her eyes.

You weren’t jealous at all, only defending Helaena’s honor.

____________________________________

“Prince Aegon, pleasure to finally meet you,” If the night couldn't get any better the man of the hour had just willingly approached the man plotting against him… “Prince Quentyn, nice of you to believe this is a pleasure.” He smirked, “Your wife looks very beautiful.” Aegon patted his shoulders, “as does yours.”

Quentyn winced, a rather noticeable scowl growing on his face. “She’ll never be yours, my prince.”

“You’ll see later tonight whose name she calls out while your cock is inside her.” He smiled a crooked grin. Quentyn’s fists balled up next to his sides, Aegon wasn’t one to directly fight, he was more behind the scenes type of criminal. There was no denying that he was strong, strong enough to crack this man’s skull. But that wasn’t part of the plan… His feet moved fast, swiftly connecting his fist to Aegon’s jaw.

The crowd erupted behind them, lords and ladies screaming trying to escape the violence. Suddenly, Aegon stopped trying to attack and let the dornish cunt take charge. He tackled him to the ground and landed hit after hit… Was this really worth it, he thought to himself as blood started to trickle down his face. “You- fucking- wastrel-” Aegon was laughing hysterically whilst getting his face beat in… All according to plan, he told himself.

“Get off of him!” You screeched in horror pulling at the man assaulting your lover. It wasn’t meant to take a turn like it did. Quentyn, not recognizing you, turned and landed a hit square to your cheek knocking you on your ass. “Protect the princess!” Some guard shouted from behind whilst dogpiling onto your husband. He stared in horror at what he had done, you were gripping your cheek mortified, and Aegon was laying there covered in blood laughing his ass off like a psychopath.

The maester was applying ice to your cheekbone as you nervously picked at the seams on your dress. “We’ll have the marriage annulled by tomorrow.” Rhaenyra paced inside the room. “On what grounds? Aegon was obviously egging him on,” Jacaerys groaned from the corner. “I could kill him and fix this entirely,” Daemon muttered watching his wife rage on.

The rest of the argument was drowned out, the only noise you could hear was the sound of Aegon’s jaw cracking. You didn’t feel despair that the wedding was ruined, you didn’t feel depressed that your husband had hit you… No, you felt completely fucking enraged.

Seeing Aegon harmed had awoken something in you. It was hateful and could not be quelled by a simple apology. He fucking beat him to a pulp in the midst of your wedding then had the audacity to lay a hand on you… It may or may not have awoken something because seeing Aegon laughing whilst covered in his own blood made your core heat up.

“Could I be given some milk of the poppy for the pain, mother?” Rhaenyra looked at you with the most sorrowful expression she could muster, “oh my sweet girl.” She cupped your cheeks in her hands and rubbed at the bruise that was forming. “Go fetch some tea for my daughter, Maester… Now!”

____________________________________

You were returning to your chambers in a rather dumbed down state. The medicine made your mind hazy, and your body feel light as a feather. It was like wine but far better with less of a hangover. The corridors were dark, all the excitement from tonight was far over. You hummed to yourself lazily, dreading the return to where your husband lay. Until you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and yank you into a hole in the wall you never knew was there.

You tried to scream but were quickly shushed by a voice that could only belong to one man. “Aegon? What are you doing?” He smiled at you, rubbing the bruise on your cheek. “Will you go out for a walk with me?” You raised your eyebrow in distrust, “To where?” Aegon grinned, almost too enthusiastically to trust, “the dragonpit.”

The most unexpected event of tonight wasn’t the wedding brawl nor the injury that befall you. It was the fact you were riding on Sunfyre again, with Aegon holding onto your waist as you soared through the stars. It was a wedding gift, he claimed. As far as you knew Aegon never let anyone touch his dragon let alone ride with him, except you.

It was indescribable, the feeling of the wind rushing past your cheeks. The view of the city and the moon shining above you reflecting off his scales. You were giggling uncontrollably the entire flight listening to Aegon tell jests you hadn’t heard in years. Whatever injury he had gained was long forgotten the second you took off. Whatever drama or chaos in the keep didn’t exist outside. In the sky, you both were completely free.

You couldn’t say how long you spent outside. Mayhaps it was an hour or two before Sunfyre descended onto a nearby beach surrounded by the most beautiful rock formations you had seen. “Is this your version of bridenapping me?” You teased while he helped you climb down the saddle. “It’s only kidnapping if you fight back.”

He grasped your hand leading you across the sandy beach, showcasing the stars he supposedly, desperately wanted to show you. “I have an actual gift for you too.” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is it a ride home on Sunfyre?” Aegon laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since you’ve returned. He dug in his pocket searching for something… “I had it made years ago but never had the chance to properly give it to you.”

In his hand was the most beautiful golden ring in the shape of a dragon. “A ring? A Sunfyre ring?” Aegon grabbed your hand and slipped it on with ease, “I’m not that creative, you know this. it was meant to be something to remember me by when you left.” Tears were prickling your eyes once more. The fool kept the damned ring all these years and never mentioned it. “Aegon… Be honest for once with me please. Do you still love me?”

He paused, searching tirelessly for the right words to say. “I… There hasn’t been a day in five years where I haven’t thought about you at least once. There hasn’t been an hour that something has not reminded me of you. There hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept without seeing you… It isn’t normal, it’s twisted and sick and cruel just like I am. No matter what you do to others, to me, to yourself. No matter if the world ends in a freeze or we are in the midst of a war of the ages… I believe I’ll always feel this… And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until the seven hells take me.”

You sniffled; he always had such a roundabout way of saying things. “I’ll always love you too.” He smiled genuinely, pulling you into a kiss so gentle yet so firm it made you forget all the dangers of the world, the drama, the potential war, your husband, everything was irrelevant except for you two, right now under the stars.

“We still haven’t done the bedding ceremony.” You whispered against his lips. His eyes lit up, “Have you always been so needy for me?” You didn’t have time to protest before he was passionately colliding his lips against yours once more. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into you, making sure no part of you would ever be apart from him again.

His arms slipped below your waist as he lowered you onto the ground as gently as he could. Your legs fell open instinctively and his hands began to explore your body. It was vastly different from every other time you’ve been together. It was gentle and loving, passionate and pleasurable without the pain.

Your bodies started to move in sync with each other, stripping away the clothes that hid your most intimate parts. His hands held you close to his chest, keeping you warm while you were exposed to the elements. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately with a hunger you had forgotten existed.

He broke the kiss, gasping for air. You opened your eyes to see the moonlight reflected off his face, sometimes Aegon Targaryen looked more God than man. He moved to suckle on your neck as he ran his length against your slit.

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured huskily against your ear. He slowly pushed inside, filling you with his thickness. You gasped from the sudden sensation. He was so deep within you, so far reaching you almost felt like you could reach out and touch the stars.

His kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling, sucking, biting. He took his time thrusting inside of you with slow movements, appreciating every moment your bodies were entertained. He stopped mid-thrust, holding himself deep within you.

“I love you, Princess.” He whispered, his voice so tender and soft. You blushed like a child; it was silly to think his cock being inside you didn’t make you feel as embarrassed as him telling you, his feelings. “Always.” You murmured back. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your teeth.

You clung tight to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He moved faster, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker. You moaned, your thighs trembling from the feeling of fullness. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, and then he moved to your clit.

He worked you effortlessly, eliciting soft whimpers and moans and love confessions. The world was a blur of fluorescent colors and smells, nothing mattered but you and Aegon. His climax came swiftly, almost right after your own. You begged for him to cum inside you, to fill you with his seed and he always did as you asked.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy on your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him relax. “Aegon…” You spoke his name softly, your head resting on his shoulder. “Mhmm?” He said in a daze. “Again?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. He smirked, his cock twitching inside of you.

____________________________________

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon the usurper #aegon the elder #aegon ii #aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon fic #aegon fluff #aegon smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii fic #hotd fic #house of the dragon

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epicbuddieficrecs · 17 days

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Weekly Recap | August 26th-September 8th 2024

HAPPY 9-1-1 SEASON 8 PREMIERE MONTH EVERYONE!!

Couldn't post last Monday because of the Ao3 being down, and then I was pretty busy all week preparing for a con I went to this weekend! So you get two weeks worth of fics! And since I've made you wait, I'm posting on Sunday instead of Monday!

Complete

🔥be sweet to me baby by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (S7E4: Buck Bothered and Bewildered, PWP | 2K | Explicit): “You’re not replaceable,” Eddie says. “I—I know,” Buck stutters. “Do you?” Eddie asks. “Buck,” he says, low and urgent. His hand curls around Buck’s hip. “Tell me how I can prove it to you.” “I—” Buck chokes out. The silence pulls taut between them. All he wanted, all week, was Eddie’s attention. He has it, now. And he won’t survive it. “Like this?” Eddie asks, and then the hand on Buck’s hip moves, and he’s unzipping Buck’s jeans, and—oh, god. - after the pick-up game, Eddie clears some things up.

let me be your last first kiss by justhockey (Post-S7, Getting Together | 3K | Mature): He can feel his cheeks catching fire as Buck looks up at him with those maddening fucking eyes and impossibly kissable lips. He’s pouting, his bottom lip sticking out slightly in a way that makes Eddie want to lean down and suck it into his mouth - nibble at it until it’s red, and swollen, and tender. Until it’s his. He looks away. He has to. Otherwise he’ll do something stupid - do something reckless. And he’ll put his life on the line for Buck any day of the week, but he won’t risk his heart. He can’t. He wouldn’t survive the breaking.

no others, before thee by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (God!Buck, Established Buddie | 3K | Teen): Eddie wakes up tied to a chair and with blood in his mouth. The funny thing? His captors don't even realise they've made two very, very big mistakes, only one of which is kidnapping him. Because they didn't kidnap a god. They kidnapped a god's husband.

let the bough break, let it come down crashing by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Soulmates AU, Post-S7 | 3K | General): Every person is gifted a soulmate by the universe, the one person who bears a matching Mark to their own - their Fated. There's no guarantee that they will meet this person, but if they are lucky enough to do so, they definitely don't go against the choice the universe has made. Unless you're Evan Buckley, and you decide that instead of a staying happily ever after with a perfectly lovely soulmate, you'd actually prefer to be with the one person who makes your life worth living.

stars in the sky, kisses on your lips by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Getting Together | 3K | General): A night out in the desert. Stars in the sky. And risks to take. Sounds like the perfect opportunity.

Went a Little Like This by thedesertpenguin/ @thedesertpenguin (Post-S7, Accidental Kissing | 3K | Teen): Buck kisses Eddie on a random morning. Two problems with this: 1) They are not together 2) They don't realize they've kissed

pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck inadvertently challenges Eddie to try to hit on him by laughing at the fact that the guy has no game. It ends up being the best thing ever.

my wildest of dreams takin' on a new life by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Roommates, PWP | 3K | Explicit): Buck is a little freak that can't stop listening to Eddie touching himself.

Three Strikes and You're Out by eightpackdiaz (Post-S7, Infidelity | 3K | Teen): Buck's soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend chooses to ignore him every time the kiss cam points in their direction. Eddie does the opposite

Red As Strawberries in Summertime by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): There's a list of groceries written down on a piece of paper, and Buck can't help if he wants to add "kiss Eddie" to it over and over and over again.

will you remember me? by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Amnesia, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): You know the trope: Someone suffers from amnesia and they don’t remember their partner. Well, this is the opposite. Buck doesn’t remember a thing – except that he loves Eddie. How is Eddie supposed to tell him they’re not actually together?

Crazy For You by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): While hanging out watching a baseball game & drinking beer, Eddie shares his honest opinions regarding Buck’s relationship. Four days later, he confronts Buck to find out why he’s been avoiding him since then.

I can fix that by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Mature): “What - what is that?” “What’s what?” Eddie asked, but the smile tugging at his mouth, the smile that was just slightly obscured by the hottest mustache Buck had ever fucking seen, told Buck Eddie knew exactly what he was talking about.

Eddie Diaz: Gay Disaster by eightpackdiaz (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Eddie's worried he might be homophobic, but it turns out he's just in love with his best friend.

on my way to believing by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Post-S7, First Date | 5K | Teen): Buck stood there in the doorway and told Eddie everything. How he felt, how he’d been waiting until the time was right, how he didn’t expect Eddie to feel the same but he just had to put it out there, couldn’t keep this a secret between them. And Eddie might have been surprised at first, but he felt the same. He feels the same. And today, finally, after so long, they’re going on a date. Their first date. His last first date, if Buck has any say in the matter.

And They Were Roommates by eightpackdiaz (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Thanks to the destruction of hotel property and the help of their closest friends and family (and exasperated now-exes), Buck and Eddie finally figure some things out.

whatever you like by clytemnestra/ @clytemnestraaa (Established Buddie, Miscommunication | 6K | Mature): “Is something wrong?” Eddie says. “No! It’s all good. Really, really good." Buck says. "Just, I want it to be good for you too. Like, is this actually what you want, or is this what you think I want?” Eddie frowns. “Is this not what you want?” He says. - Buck and Eddie (not) talking about it.

And You Are Where I Wanna Be by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (First Date | 6K | Teen): Buck and Eddie find out their first date is slightly more awkward than they thought it would be. Good thing they're both desperately and hopelessly in love with each other.

No One Loves Me Like You by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (S5E18, Love Confessions, Unrequited Love | 7K | Teen): After Hen and Karen's vow renewal, Eddie battles his repression to confess his feelings for Buck. Blindsided, Buck doesn't think he loves Eddie that way and turns him down. They both spiral and things get awkward. Will Buck figure out his feelings before it's too late?

Buck Has a Boyfriend (He Swears) by thedesertpenguin/ @thedesertpenguin (Post-S7, Eddie Coming Out | 7K | Teen): Eddie's fighting again, it's the only explanation. Aka: Eddie’s being secretive and Buck desperately tries to remember he has a boyfriend

you can feel it on the way home by lizzybizzyzzz/ (Crack, Animal Transformation | 7K | Teen): or, after eddie comes in contact with a bundle of magic catnip inside a problematic botánica, he finds himself in the care of his team; can the magic be reversed or will he become firestation 118's new furry mascot? (Part 1 of you are in love)

you can see it with the lights out by lizzybizzyzzz / (Crack, Animal Transformation | 1,7K | General): Buck narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. “Did you smell that stuff on purpose so you wouldn’t be on dish-duty?” Through his second last nectarine slice, Eddie hisses at him. or, eddie is turned into a cat and buck doesn't really know what to do with him, a coda (Part 2 of you are in love)

Sealed With a Kiss by Inell/ @inell (Soulmate AU, Different First Meeting, S1 | 8K | Teen): When Buck goes to the beach to get away from Abby’s empty apartment, he ends up saving a kid from drowning. He isn’t expecting to meet Christopher’s father, Eddie, who also happens to be Buck’s soulmate.

like a river that doesn't know where it's flowing (i found where i'm going) by oklahoma/ @sunshinediaz (Post-S7, Eddie Coming Out | 10K | Teen): After coming out as gay, finally, Eddie has a well-deserved hot girl summer witnessed by his closest friends and family. Everyone is supportive and encouraging, except for Buck. What could that possibly mean?

she’ll never get to eat you like your heart's a pomegranate by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Fluff | 10K | General): or, Five Times Buck was the Weird Parent, and One Time Eddie was

Weary Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Buck&Bobby, Post-S7 | 12K | Teen): After an argument about the circumstances of Bobby's sudden retirement, Buck and Bobby each find themselves inexplicably experiencing one of the other's difficult childhood memories.

🔥the tortured poets department by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Post-S4E14: Survivors, Magic AU | 19K | Explicit): The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up.

🔥Where there's smoke by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Multiverses | 37K | Teen): His eyelids are heavy. His lungs ache. The smoke is dense and thick, slowly suffocating him. Eddie feels himself drift as Buck’s voice penetrates the smoke, cuts through the fog in his brain. “Eddie, stay with me. Stay with me, Eds.” Eddie wants to stay. He wants to open his eyes and see Buck. He doesn’t want to leave. But he’s so tired, and sleep is calling him. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe his dreams will be sweet. Maybe there’ll be peace, there. And maybe, if he just rests for a little while, he’ll be able to find his way back.

🔥 Long Death by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Vampire AU | 79K | Explicit): In the summer of 2024, a never before seen form of vampirism breaks out in Los Angeles. Just as Eddie is about to get his son back. Six months later, Buck's life is permanently changed.

WIP

🔥 the wayward son by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Post-S7 Spec, Sex Club | 3/5 | 33K | Explicit): Eddie misses his son, grows a mustache, pines after his best friend, and becomes a regular at a gay sex club. That last part is either an indulgence or an inevitable, somewhat self-destructive conclusion to several decades worth of compulsory heterosexuality and catholic guilt. Don’t ask him which.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 2/? | 13K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 18/21 | 92K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 135/? | 430K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 6/14 | 26K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

Re-Read

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Canon Divergent, Teacher Buck | 4K | Teen): Eddie met Evan when he was a bartender in Peru and Eddie was on vacation with his cousins. They had a one night stand and Eddie woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a disappointed heart. Just for the same guy to end up being Chris' teacher years after.

🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @loserdiaz (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.

Family Feud: First Responders by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Secret Relationship | 3K | General): The FireFam go on Family Feud.

#epic buddie fic rec #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic #buddie fic

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sluttyten · 1 year

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You In My Arms

Chapter 1: The Tourist

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: Haechan doesn’t mind being a background character in someone else’s love story as long as he gets a front row seat to the love scenes. He’s in university, still learning about himself, still exploring his sexuality, and during his last year, he finally experiences an awakening, realizing a truth about himself: he likes to watch

length: 11,045

tags: slowburn, friends to lovers, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (public & in private), general perversion, smut

Haechan’s first real heartbreak happens when he’s at university.

The girl he has a giant crush on – she’s the most gorgeous girl he’s seen at their university, like a model with her perfect body that draws the attention of every red-blooded straight man on campus – kisses one of Haechan’s friends right in front of him.

It’s not a peck, not a chaste kiss, not even a kiss in a game of truth or dare (though they do play that game regularly at their small parties, at the nights at Mark’s rented house, spent drinking themselves numb after a rough week). It’s a kiss, like hands on cheeks, bodies pressed together, and the moment Haechan sees a flicker of tongue, he’s done.

“Okay, gross. We get it!” He says, and he wonders if his voice is actually as loud as it sounds in his ears. His heart is pounding, stomach lurching.

Mark, Chenle, Jungwoo, some of the others are all laughing. Haechan’s face feels slack, stomach tight, palms sweaty as he looks at the bright smile on Shotaro’s face. Haechan feels that sharp bite of jealousy in his belly as she gravitates to stay by Shotaro’s side.

He ignores it. Ignores the jealousy he feels – because he has no claim on her heart; he’s never had the guts to confess his feelings to her – as the days and weeks pass by. Haechan buries himself in other girls, fucking his way through all the girls on the dorm floor beneath his until they all know him as a manwhore and want nothing more to do with him.

Desperately looking for anything to focus on other than the moon-eyes that Shotaro keeps shooting at the girl Haechan has spent so long lusting after, Haechan turns to a little good, old-fashioned fantasy material. He uses Twitter mostly, digging up some good content to watch and jerk off to, hiding himself in his bed at the dorm, thankful that his roommate is almost never home.

His airpods, his phone, and a bottle of lube become his near-constant companions while he’s tucked away in the dorm room. It’s not a problem because he makes sure it isn’t one. He can still have sex with real women and distinguish what’s happening from the way things play out in the videos he watches online. He’s not delusional, okay?

But he does quickly learn a few things about himself. He unburies a few kinks he didn’t realize were a thing for him.

Like, getting caught jerking off by his roommate. That’s one that he didn’t realize he liked until it happened. His roommate doesn’t seem to care too much the first time he walks in on Haechan with his hand wrapped around his own cock. Even the second time, a week or two later, it’s no big deal. It happens. But when he walks into their dorm room and finds Haechan making direct eye contact with him as he cums, then it’s a bit much.

“Dude, get the fuck out,” his roommate had said, and Haechan had obeyed.

It’s awkward after that, every time they encounter each other, so Haechan begins to spend a lot more time at the house a few of his friends rent together. Their sofa is always open, sometimes a few of them let him sleep in their beds whether they’re in them or not. He still crashes in his dorm sometimes because all of his stuff is still there, and when he needs to focus on his coursework, it’s always a lot easier to get done there than at the house. But things between him and his roommate remain tense. There are many nights, he just hangs out at the house until everyone kinda falls asleep, or until they ask him to just stay the night.

This is particularly easy on nights when everyone is over at the house. Their whole friend group gathered around the living room on the floor and sofas, on armchairs and bean bag chairs. Once the alcohol comes out, Haechan knows he’ll be fine to stay the night tonight, even if it means snuggling up on the sofa between YangYang and Xiaojun, neither of which live in the house either, but who both are likely to pass out from overindulging in drinks.

Sometimes, if Haechan is really lucky, she stays the night too, folding her beautiful self onto the sofa or an armchair. He’s watched her curl up in one of the armchairs, still clinging to a half-empty bottle when she falls asleep. He’s been lucky enough to be on the sofa with her one night, her head resting on his shoulder, and his shirt still smelling like her perfume the next day.

Tonight, he watches as the party dwindles around him, as his friends that don’t live here slowly leave, until only a few people are left. She’s one of them, giggling at something Renjun’s telling her. Her eyes are shiny, dancing around the room to look at the last few members of the party – Jaemin and Jeno, both of whom live here, one of the girls in their friend group who spent the first part of the night teasing Haechan about his flubbed presentation in one of their shared classes, Shotaro, Chenle, Sungchan, and Haechan. She smiles when she meets his gaze, and his heart does a foolish little flutter.

But then Shotaro passes by, and her smile grows infinitely brighter.

Haechan loses track of her when Jaemin starts squawking about whatever game he’s just lost against Chenle, and when Haechan next looks up, she’s gone. He doesn’t see her again, so he figures she’s left for the night along with everyone else after a short while longer.

He curls comfortably on one of the sofas, dozing lightly until some sound drags him out of his dreams. A creak of floorboards, the sound of rushing water tinkling against the kitchen sink.

Haechan sits up, squinting in the dim light. It’s still the middle of the night. Who the hell is up right now?

He twists around, looking in the direction of the kitchen, and what he sees there freezes him to his core.

There she is, an absolute vision.

A vision of her in another man’s shirt.

Haechan’s fingers curl against his blanket. Jealousy turns his stomach. She’s wearing Shotaro’s shirt, the holey band t-shirt that he brought over with him from Japan, the one that Haechan and Renjun have both insisted he get rid of. She’s wearing it. And if Haechan isn’t mistaken, the shadowy mark on her neck is a hickey.

Suddenly, a lot of different things make connections in his mind.

That kiss he’d witnessed between her and Shotaro, the one that everyone had thought was just the one time kiss. The moony eyes Shotaro’s been making at her since then. And many little things from the past few weeks. Many little things from just tonight – they’d both vanished for a while earlier during the movie, but Haechan had just assumed she’d gone upstairs where some of the guys were gaming; the way they’d sat so close together for most of the rest of the evening. But mostly, the way that they’d had similar truths about sex during a game of truth or dare someone had brought up; the way she’d vanished entirely tonight, just shortly before Shotaro had turned in for the night.

He doesn’t know what he plans to do, not really. Even as he pushes the blanket off of himself, as he rises to his feet and walks towards the kitchen, Haechan doesn’t know what his next move is.

She looks up, startled. Her eyes are wide, open and innocent in the darkness, frightened even.

One of her hands drifts down to the hem of the shirt, tugging it down a little. The other holds a glass of water.

Haechan can’t help drinking the sight of her in, even if she is wearing Shotaro’s shirt. He folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the doorway to look at her. Gorgeous. And her thighs are beautiful, he just wants to feel them against his hips, he wants to bite them and kiss them, feel them squeezing against the sides of his head as he –

No.

He can’t do any of that. None of that will happen with her because she’s with Shotaro in whatever capacity. And Haechan isn’t going to infringe on that no matter how he feels.

So, in the moment, Haechan puts on a brave face and decides to call her out on it. “So, you and our innocent Shotaro, huh?”

The way that she holds his gaze in challenge is truthfully very hot. He watches the way that she gulps down her water, a stray drop spilling from the corner of her mouth, trailing along her face to her jaw. Haechan struggles not to imagine catching that water droplet on his tongue, tracing it back to her lips, kissing her until she completely forgets whose bed she’s left.

And then she walks towards him, and all he can smell is her perfume or her shampoo or body wash or whatever it is, he’s just enveloped in a cloud of her. It drives him a little wild, forcing him to look away from her before he does something really stupid like kiss her. Because she’s not his to kiss; it’s Shotaro’s lips that she’s had all over her tonight because up this close, Haechan can definitely see a hickey low on her throat, almost hidden by the neck of the t-shirt.

He makes his accusation, putting it out there into the world just to see if she’ll deny it. Her and Shotaro. It doesn’t make sense, not to him. The boy is an innocent, or at least he was up until he claimed otherwise tonight. What does she see in him? How good of a lover could inexperienced Shotaro really be?

To Haechan’s surprise, she doesn’t deny what he’s figured out. She’s got a bold, sharp look in her eye, though she’s avoiding looking directly at him. She doesn’t deny a thing about his assumptions about her and Shotaro, instead she asks, in a quiet voice that crackles with a challenge, “Are you going to tell everyone?”

No, he’s not going to tell everyone. That would be really fucking stupid of him. She’d be furious, and he’d be ruining any chance of her ever wanting to speak to him again. Ruining any tiny chance that if this thing with Shotaro goes sideways, she might someday consider Haechan, even though deep down he knows that if he ever stood a chance with her, it would’ve already happened. She’s gorgeous, she’s not been celibate in the while that he’s known her, so if she’s avoided his company and has instead found herself in Shotaro’s then that’s probably where she’d like to be.

He doesn’t know what brings him to do it. Doesn’t know why he lets his arm brush against hers because the moment that he feels how soft her skin is, how warm she is, his brain short-circuits a little, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m just glad Shotaro’s finally made his move. He’s had a crush on you since the first time he met you.” It’s the truth, but he’s not entirely sure why he’s telling her this right now. He can remember the first day that Renjun introduced Shotaro to all of them, the way that he’d fit right in, the way that she had come in at the last minute, running late because of something to do with the campus buses. She’d been windswept and a little sunburnt, wearing a sundress with one of the straps sliding over her shoulder.

She’d been enchanting.

Apparently, Haechan hadn’t been the only one caught under her spell that day.

Hours later, after she’d left, Shotaro was sitting there, talking with Renjun, YangYang, and Haechan. He’d been pretty quiet up until someone mentioned her name, and then his eyes had lit up. It was obvious right away that Shotaro liked her, and he liked her in a different way than Haechan usually heard guys talk about her. Haechan himself was a bad example since he was lusting after her, in love with her body more than anything else. But when Shotaro talked about her he was wanting to know more about her, wanting to repeat all the things she’d said that he’d found funny; he liked her for her personality and didn’t even mention how great her tits had looked.

Haechan had assumed it was just the innocence of Shotaro, but tonight he’s seeing that Shotaro clearly harbors lusty feelings for her too.

“I thought his heart would’ve exploded that day you kissed him in front of us,” Haechan tells her, watching the way that her gaze flicks up to meet his briefly before dancing away again. In truth, Haechan’s heart had nearly burst that day too, but surely Shotaro’s had as well. It had been Shotaro’s first kiss, with the girl of his dreams. Haechan still could only wish that he and Shotaro could have switched places that day. What he wouldn’t have given to be the one kissing her in front of all of their friends, to have them all know that he’d bagged the hottest woman on campus; he wanted to be the cause for her blush; he wanted to be the one who had walked away with her at his side.

He doesn’t know what he expects from her at this moment. What her reaction would really be to him telling her that Shotaro’s had a silly schoolboy crush on her for the past year and a half, but he doesn’t expect this.

Her shoulder knocks roughly against Haechan’s, pushing by him to escape the doorway. “You should go home, Haechan. Stop crashing on their couch,” she says. She walks away, crossing the living room towards the stairs, heading back to Shotaro instead of lingering for even a moment longer to talk to Haechan.

“Yeah, yeah.” Haechan feels a new burst of jealousy, thinking about her climbing those stairs, crawling back into Shotaro’s bed, pressing herself up against him in that t-shirt. Or, even worse, maybe without it. And again, he doesn’t know why he says it when he calls out in a voice just above a whisper, “Go crawl back in his bed!”

She’s going to do exactly that.

The sight of her extended middle finger draws a laugh from Haechan, but she doesn’t look back. She climbs the stairs and vanishes from sight.

He collapses back down onto the sofa, trying to stop straining his ears for any sounds overhead. What is he trying to hear, anyway? The creaking of the floorboards? The squeak of the mattress springs as she rejoins Shotaro in bed? Or what, her waking Shotaro and them making sounds together.

A strange pit opens in Haechan’s belly, twisted full of complex knots that he can’t even begin to untangle the meaning of.

Somehow, he eventually falls asleep, though his dreams are possessed with jealous scenarios. Her face, Shotaro’s, his own. Scenarios where he gets her, only to find her taken away in Shotaro’s arms. Dreams where he’s trapped outside the room while the sounds of her and Shotaro having sex echo in his ears. He wouldn’t necessarily call them nightmares.

He doesn’t know exactly what wakes him in the morning, but something startles him awake, finding himself with a face full of bright sunlight on the sofa in the living room. His blanket is tucked up beneath his chin, and there are voices everywhere. Mainly though, he hears Shotaro’s voice, telling some story, and as the words come together in Haechan’s still half-asleep brain, he realizes that the story Shotaro is telling is a lie. An excuse for why he’s come down from his room this morning with company.

Haechan opens his eyes, catching sight of her standing on the stairs. She’s wearing her own clothes now, that hickey from the night before hidden away. He remembers one of his dreams when he’d been the one to give her that mark.

The others seem to buy the bullshit story about her being drunk, vomiting and passing out in Shotaro’s bed. Haechan hears the quiet exchange of words between her and Shotaro in a soft, lovey-dovey tone that makes Haechan want to be sick. He sees them leave the stairs, making for the door and their smooth escape, and he can’t help it. He wants to make himself known to them before they leave.

“Such a gentleman, our Shotaro.” He says, “Letting her sleep in your bed. So sweet.”

She turns her head around so quickly, Haechan would be surprised if it didn’t hurt her neck. There’s venom in her eyes, but at the moment, Haechan can’t feel the sting of it. Especially when he’s instead blinded by the bright, bright sunlight as Shotaro throws open the front door. To combat her glare, Haechan responds with a wink and a wave, though that just makes her pretty face tighten.

“You should go home, Haechan,” she repeats her parting words from the night before. “Stop crashing on their couch.”

He laughs, because what else is there to do?

She and Shotaro step out into the daylight, closing the door behind them. He laughs again, chuckling to himself as he remembers her words, the look on her face.

A pillow smacks him full in the face.

Haechan swears, bringing his hands up to ward off the possibility of a second attack as the pillow falls away. He looks up to see Renjun standing over him, glaring down at him. “She’s got a point. Either pay rent, dude, or get off our couch. Figure out the deal with your roommate.”

It’s impossible to figure things out with his roommate, but luckily, the other guy gets a girlfriend — the lucky bastard — and he starts spending all of his time at her apartment. Haechan returns to his ways of jerking off every chance he gets just so he can attempt to forget about those dreams he’s been having about Shotaro and her tangled together in bed.

Weeks pass, and he manages to do a pretty good job of avoiding them. It helps that most of his nights are spent in his own bed at his own dorm now, but even when all of their friends are together, he always manages to miss being one-on-one with her and Shotaro. Until one weekend.

The camping trip to the lake.

All day long, Haechan was tortured by the sight of her bathed in sunlight, wind blowing through her hair, her face constantly lit up with smiles and laughter. All of the girls were wearing bikinis which had been a delightful sight to his eyes, and Haechan had even found his attention drifting to a few of the guys to admire the way their muscles moved and glistened with sweat in the sunlight. But his attention kept returning to her and the way she filled out her bikini. She easily could be a model, so gorgeous that he can imagine her as one of the models on the cover of a swimsuit catalogue, a Victoria Secret runway, or a Playboy magazine.

He purposely puts himself close to her all day, though he also notices the way that she keeps gravitating toward wherever Shotaro is.

Sometimes Haechan allows himself other distractions. He wrestles with Mark and Renjun in the shallows. He plays beach volleyball with several of them. He flirts with Karina where she floats on a pool float tied to the dock. He spends a short while sunbathing on the dock with one of the girls and Xiaojun, all three of them staring up at the clouds.

And then comes the time in the early afternoon when a few of them start playing chicken. Shotaro is nowhere in sight, so Haechan takes the opportunity to ask the object of his lust if she would like to play. And to his luck and surprise, she agrees to partner with Haechan, letting him hold her on his shoulders. Her bare thighs rest over his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, and he knows it’s probably just his imagination, but he could swear he can smell her — sweet temptation tucked just beneath the scent of sunscreen and sweat and those fruity drinks Xiaojun and YangYang had been mixing up and passing out all day.

They lost the game of chicken, but Haechan didn’t even care because for those few moments he’d had her. Or at least, it had felt like he did. Her fingers had tugged at his hair as she said his name with her thighs on his shoulders. And maybe his imagination got a little carried away. It was a good thing he was up to his waist in the lake so no one could see the trouble rising in his shorts thinking about all of her sun kissed skin against his.

It wasn’t until hours and hours later, when the sun was plunging towards the horizon, when some of the other guys were busy grilling meat, that Haechan sat down beside the bright bonfire, pulling on a hoodie to ward off the chill sweeping in. Some of the others drift inside to rinse off after the day spent on the lake, the others start dinner preparations, and Haechan helps out some, mostly as a mood-maker, trying to draw laughs out of those whose faces have grown grim with hunger and irritability after being in the sun all day.

When Haechan looks across the fire after a while, he finds her sitting there. Her hair is damp, her cheeks ruddy from the sun, but she’s freshly showered, dressed warmer now. Gone is all of that gorgeous exposed skin, the bikini that had felt like nothing when he’d held her on his shoulders earlier. He watches as Shotaro passes by her, brushing his hand over her shoulders. Haechan witnesses the little grin she throws towards Shotaro as he keeps walking into the house. She makes a move like she could just follow, and Haechan’s imagination takes that and runs with it, envisioning the two of them sneaking off and fucking in the house, imagining how he could walk in….

“This is a nice break, huh?” A girl drops down into the seat beside him. She smiles, wrapping her arms around her knees as she draws them up towards her chest. “I don’t know about you, but I feel like this semester is kicking my ass.”

Haechan welcomes the distraction.

“Professor Kang especially,” Haechan agrees. He and this girl have several classes together since they’re in the same major, and the course that Professor Kang teaches is one required for the major, but if it wasn’t Haechan would have dropped it by now.

She laughs. “Kang’s class is a little rough. But I’m doing pretty well in it right now if you need any help.”

Haechan isn’t even surprised by that. The girl sitting beside him is probably the smartest in their year. She does well all the time; the professors compliment her on it in class. Haechan’s definitely sought her out before for help dozens of times since they met as freshmen.

“I might take you up on that,” he sighs, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. “But like you said, this is a nice break. I feel like this weekend we can all just relax and let loose a little.”

She’s smiling when he looks over at him. “When do you ever hold back from letting loose, Lee Donghyuck?”

The sound of his full name from her lips makes his stomach do a flip. People so rarely use it, and when they do he’s often in trouble. But that’s not how she said it, with her voice warm and happy, full of laughter.

She is laughing, Haechan realizes, and he laughs too. She’s not wrong. Haechan takes pretty much every opportunity he can to crack jokes, to relax, to bring a little brightness to the days of the people around him.

Xiaojun comes over to see what’s so funny, and he draws her attention away until Haechan feels like he’s been cut out of the conversation. He decides to go help finish up the last of the meal prep.

He does his best to try to rile up some of the others as they all eat. Trying to get a round of dares going because he wants to see someone have to go skinny dipping in the lake tonight even though the night air is quite cold now. No one’s up to play his game unfortunately, but as the night sinks in around everyone at the fire, Haechan does convince YangYang to drink with him, to see which of them can drink the most.

The more he drinks, the harder it is for Haechan to keep his eyes from drifting across the fire. The harder it is to ignore the way Shotaro and the girl are so wrapped up in each other. And Haechan Isn't blind, although all of their friends might be, so he can see that Shotaro has stolen her heart, and that unsettles Haechan.

For as long as Haechan has known her she hasn’t been tied down in a relationship, but now he can see that if she isn’t already, then she’s about to be fully in one.

It throws off the balance of the world he knows, shutting out any possibility of him getting to experience any fun with her.

Unsettled, jealous, a little drunk maybe (though Haechan refuses to admit that YangYang might have beat him), that’s what drives Haechan to say what he does.

His words leap over the fire as everyone’s making jokes about Mark and one of their other friends finally jumping over the line between just friends and fuckbuddies.

Haechan’s eyes are fixed on her and Shotaro, his heavy tongue lifts, mouth open to draw everyone’s attention to the secret couple in their midst.

He can tell from the look in her eyes then that he’s done for. There’s no going back from these words he’s speaking, but it’s too late. Drunken words are sober thoughts, and all that, but it just keeps spilling out of him while the others around the fire look on.

“Shotaro has obviously been in love with you from the start,” Haechan can hear himself saying, “Literally that very first day you met each other. He wouldn’t stop talking about you that night on the way back to our dorm, and kept trying to get Renjun and Mark to invite him to places where you would be. Absolutely lovesick. And then you were his first kiss? How romantic! Did you take his virginity too?”

Jaemin spits his drink out when he laughs, and several of the others laugh as well, someone spouts out their own teasing comment aimed at Shotaro. The night crawls over Haechan’s skin, but he’s staring at her. At no one else but her and the fire reflected in her eyes. She’s beautiful. She’s pissed off, but she’s beautiful.

It’s the sound of the others around him joining in, it’s the alcohol soaking through his veins, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore, just anything to embarrass Shotaro honestly, because Haechan can see their fingers knitted together now, and he knows that Shotaro is the one that she wants and Haechan hates that, he absolutely hates it. He was here first, he should’ve taken his chance while he could.

The jealousy eats at him, so he goes on and on, attacking everything from Shotaro’s lack of experience to the high likelihood of him being bad in bed.

Even when she rises to her feet, the fire in her eyes no longer just a reflection of the bonfire, but her own blazing anger, Haechan leans back in his seat and smirks. She uses his full name, and its the second time he’s heard it used today, but this time is certainly the more familiar usage — with the tone of anger and followed by her telling him to fuck off, an accusation of him being drunk.

He does start to feel a little bad about it when he notices the tears swimming in her eyes as she rails at him for bullying Shotaro. Haechan’s gaze flicks over to the other man, and he finds Shotaro looking a little embarrassed, but they all tease him about this stuff all the time, and Haechan’s drunk, so he can’t really be held accountable for what he’s saying right now. He and Shotaro will still be friends in the morning.

Haechan isn’t really listening to what she says, not until he hears her say, “We don’t all ask about your sex life, or lack thereof. It’s not like you’re getting a lot of action.”

That starts a fire in Haechan’s belly. It’s not like he never gets laid anymore. He can if he wants to, but it seems like since he found out about her and Shotaro his fantasies have starred the two of them more often than not, and he can’t have her, so it’s just a lot easier to settle for his hand and a fantasy.

But she’s not finished yet.

“Maybe you should be worried about your own skills instead of Shotaro’s.” She takes a half step forward, and Haechan is once again thinking about how hot she is even while she’s angry. She’s gorgeous, and maybe if she weren’t so obsessed with Shotaro, Haechan could redirect this anger she’s feeling into something more productive.

Or so he thinks, drunkenly, until her next words.

“Maybe if you were a semi-decent fuck, you’d not be sleeping on the sofa at their house every night.”

Those words finally hit home.

He’s not a bad fuck.

He’s more than a semi-decent fuck, thank you very much.

But hearing that insult from her is more than he can take at the moment. It’s annoying, is what it is. She doesn’t have any idea what she’s talking about. Just last week, at a party, he’d fucked a sorority girl boneless and she’d still begged him for more. He’s a good fuck.

He sits forward in his seat, fingertips digging into the edges of the arm as he tries to haul himself forward.

He at least has the sobriety of mind to bite his tongue from saying the first thing that springs to mind. He holds in the offer to show her firsthand his skills although the words dance right there on the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he says something else.

“You want to talk about what I’m up to every night?” He could tell her a thing or two — the kinks he’d awakened in his weeks of video-watching trying to get over her, the things he’s already been experimenting on with people he’s met on a hook-up app. She doesn’t need to worry about what he’s up to. “Why don’t we talk about how every night you’re there fu—“

Shotaro rocks to his feet, face twisted with anger that Haechan has never seen from him before. A shout leaves his lips, drowning out the rest of Haechan’s words, leaving them floundering in the taste of vodka on Haechan’s tongue.

Maybe this time they won’t be friends in the morning. Haechan can see that in the way Shotaro glares at him. At the possessive way that Shotaro puts his hand on her shoulder, moving her away from the fire, away from Haechan.

She goes.

Shotaro follows.

Haechan rises to his feet, wanting to follow because he’s not done.

Renjun’s there in an instant, and although he’s smaller than Haechan, he’s easily able to manhandle him. Especially since Renjun’s relatively sober and Haechan…. He’s had more than enough. He knows that. Renjun’s telling him as much as he corrals him inside the cabin, rambling to him and lecturing him about the things he’s said.

He doesn’t want a lecture. Doesn’t want to think about anything else. He definitely doesn’t want to sit inside this cabin and pretend like he can’t hear the muffled sounds of Mark and their other friend fucking in the back bedroom.

Renjun forces Haechan to sit at the kitchen table. He puts a glass of water down in front of him.

“Drink, Donghyuckie.” He collapses into the seat beside Haechan, rubbing at his forehead like he’s got a headache. “Why do you always have to stir up shit with Shotaro, huh? Just because he genuinely likes the girl you just want to fuck? Because she kissed him? Move on, buddy. She’s clearly not into you. There are plenty of other people that are.”

Haechan glares but doesn’t say a word, just downs the glass of water as quickly as he can. Renjun just picks it up and refills it for him.

He doesn’t want to talk about this with Renjun. Doesn’t want to talk about it with anyone. So he just sits there silently and sullenly, allowing Renjun to all but waterboard him in an attempt at sobering him up.

By the time the couple in the back room stumble out to the kitchen, looking a little bit rough and blushing, Haechan does feel a whole lot less drunk. Some of the others have started to drift inside, toting in their blankets and their drinks and snacks. Calling it a night.

Haechan can hear someone singing out by the fire though, and Renjun wanders back out there, his voice joining in. Haechan can’t just sit inside and be miserable, and he doesn’t feel tired yet, so when Mark heads back to the fire, Haechan follows.

Wherever her and Shotaro had gone while Renjun dragged Haechan off, they’ve returned. She sits tucked into Shotaro’s side. They look happy, and Haechan feels like shit.

And his mind is a lot more clear now. The jealous haze is gone, except for a tiny wrinkle of it in the back of his mind, so he has the clarity to at least stop by where the two of them sit.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head. “I was a dick before, and I know it. I just — I don’t really have any excuse, other than that I was just being an asshole.” He lowers his voice a little, glancing at where their hands now sit intertwined above the blanket that covers their laps. “But, hey, now it’s not a secret anymore, right?”

That thought doesn’t seem to reassure either of them too much, so Haechan walks away, snuggling into the spot between Mark and Renjun. The girl Haechan had talked with about school earlier is sitting across the fire shooting looks at him, and he can’t help wondering if he was that much of an asshole earlier that she’s wary of him; he and her have always gotten along, but now when he looks at her, she avoids eye contact.

Haechan steers away from the bottle of whiskey that is getting passed around, and slowly the rest of the night passes. The crowd around the bonfire shrinks as his friends disappear inside, and soon there are only a core few of them left.

The night wind whistles in off the lake, biting at his bare legs where he’s still wearing his swim trunks from earlier today.

Jeno laughs, then he turns to look at Haechan, at the other few still left. It’s only Shotaro and his girlfriend, Jeno, Haechan, Xiaojun, Mark, and the girl from earlier left around the fire now.

It’s grown cold out even with the bonfire. Haechan wishes he’d opted to put on warmer clothes earlier in the evening instead of just his thin swim trunks and a hoodie. Several of the others are bundled up in jackets and pants and blankets. As Haechan looks around the fire, the girl he has class with shivers, tucking her feet under the blanket covering her lap. Xiaojun is still sitting beside her and he drapes another blanket across her lap.

Jeno smiles around the fire at all of them as he says, “Maybe before we all head in, we take a dip in the hot tub.”

“I think I’m done for the night.” Mark stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “It’s too cold.”

“It helps that you’ve got someone new to warm your bed, though, I bet,” Jeno calls at Mark’s retreating back. Mark just flips him off.

Haechan is chilled to the bone, so it sounds good to him. Xiaojun also heads in for the night, but all of the others agree, and before he knows it, he’s stripped down to his boxers, sitting in the boiling hot water of the tub up on the deck. He’d almost forgotten about it since it’s tucked off to the side of the house.

He’s entirely sober now. He’s downed enough water over the last two hours that he’s probably fully replenished any of the dehydrating effects of what he’d drunk earlier in the night. But tragically, as he realizes after he’s been stewing in the hot tub for a little while, he needs to piss.

He’s not so much of a dick that he’d do it in here, so he gets up. Internally he curses at how cold the air is on his bare skin, but externally he doesn’t say anything even as he can see the steam rising from his skin, even as his swim trunks cling tight to his hips and ass. He just grabs his sweatshirt from where he dumped it with everyone else’s clothes, and he heads inside.

He just goes in to take a piss, expecting he’ll be back out there with the rest of them in a minute. There is no way Haechan’s gone for longer than five minutes, but when he steps into the kitchen on his way back outside, he finds the girl who’d been in the hot tub now sitting at the table. Jeno’s clothes are on the floor, which means he’s probably not out there either. Did they all come in?

She’s got her head pillowed on her arms, but she turns her head to the side as Haechan approaches. Her eyes look heavy, sleepy, as if she’d been about to doze off.

“Are you just gonna sleep out here?” Haechan asks.

There are plenty of rooms in this house to sleep in, not to mention those nice tents out there by the fire. If it’s her roommates she’s trying to avoid — which he would also avoid rooming with Karina and Winter, like she was supposed to be — his room on the second floor is still open.

“You know the King bed upstairs is still open,” Haechan tells her without really knowing why he’s offering. He’d won that single room fair and square from the other guys. But maybe it’s because he’s slept with Karina before — actually slept with her, not just fucked her, though he has done that too — in a room shared with Winter, and he knows the sparks of jealousy that Winter can ignite when her space is infringed upon. “If it's the idea of rooming with Karina and Winter that has you scared to sleep in there, you’re welcome to the room up there.”

Her eyes go wide for a second, mouth forming a soft o, and she shakes her head a little. She looks cute like that, and Haechan feels a little smile rise to his lips. He’s not saying that he’s never really thought of her that way, but it’s never really struck him much. Not when there was someone around to overshadow her like Shotaro’s girlfriend. But right now, she looks cute, open and vulnerable in her expression. Not to mention the open and vulnerable way that she’s still barely dressed from the dip in the hot tub. Haechan can’t fight the urge to sweep his gaze over her, all the skin exposed by the little bra she’s wearing and her underwear that are still wet and a tiny bit see-through.

He notices the way she draws her arms closer to her body, pressing the bundle of her clothes against her chest as she stands.

“Why is no one sleeping up there?” She asks, and it takes Haechan a second too long to remember that he’d just offered up his bed to her for the night.

Haechan explains quickly that he won the single room, and it’s still unoccupied because he’s not tired yet. And then he repeats his offer for her to take it. She just looks at him with these wide, pretty eyes, then she asks, “And what about when you do get tired? Where are you gonna sleep then?”

He just shrugs. He’s really not tired at all right now. He could use a good long soak in the hot tub, especially if the rest of them have abandoned it. Or maybe he’ll just go sit by the fire, pick up one of the beers someone surely left out there. And he’s pretty sure that YangYang left half a bag of marshmallows out there for roasting. So right now the thought of where he’s going to sleep isn’t really something he’s too concerned about. “That’s a problem for then.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, so Haechan reaches for the door to step back outside, and the doorknob has just turned beneath his hand when he hears her quiet voice behind him.

“When you get tired Haechan….” She pauses just long enough that Haechan turns to look back at her.

She’s twisting her shirt in her hands like she’s nervous, and Haechan can’t help smiling at that. Does he make her nervous? They’ve been friends for a while now, sharing classes, study rooms, meals and conversations. When they’d talked earlier today she hadn’t seemed nervous at all, but right now she does, and Haechan knows that when they first became friends she had a crush on him, but he thought she grew out of it. Maybe not. Her cheeks grow a little warm, her gaze dipping away from his before returning.

“Well, it’s a big bed,” she says, “I’m happy to share.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Haechan pulls the door open, still watching her.

He sees something there in her eyes, buried deep. Just a flicker of some deeper hunger, a small spark in the dark.

Interesting.

But it’s gone just as quickly, and Haechan looks away, murmuring a quiet “goodnight” to her, and then he’s stepping out through the doorway.

Just as he rounds the corner of the house to return to the hot tub, Haechan freezes in place.

The hot tub, which had held four people when he left, and which he believed would now be empty, still holds two people.

Haechan shrinks back around the corner of the house, but he doesn’t withdraw completely. Doesn’t look away.

How could he look away from the sight of one of his fantasies playing out right in front of his eyes? The girl he’d just finally relinquished his lustful crush on now straddling Shotaro? Her shoulders steam as she drapes her arms over Shotaro’s shoulders, as he draws a hand up out of the water to touch her back. Haechan can’t look away, transfixed by the way that she shivers into Shotaro, the way her back arches slightly against his light touch. And she’s smiling, holding Shotaro’s gaze when Haechan sees the other man’s wrist flick, and then his breath catches in his throat.

Her bra falls away, and Haechan has dreamed of her tits. He has had very, very specific fantasies about fucking them, fondling them, resting his head on them during post-coital bliss.

But he’s never seen them in person. Not until right now.

Shotaro drops her bra over the edge of the hot tub, and Haechan can only stare, like a fucking pervert, at her bare tits. They’re perfect. Her nipples stand to attention in the cool air, and then Shotaro’s hands are on them, just like Haechan wishes his were. His hands flex at his sides, curling into fists, trying to rid himself of the phantom feeling of soft boobs in his hands.

And then Shotaro’s lips are on her neck, and Haechan watches the way her eyes flutter shut, her mouth falls open.

He should stop looking.

Look away, he tells himself. Just go inside, and stop being a pervert.

But he likes watching.

He likes to see the way her body reacts. The way she gasps and shifts in Shotaro’s lap as he kisses her neck, as he trails his kisses down. The soft moan she lets out when he scrapes his teeth over her collarbone.

Fuck.

Haechan feels his cock stirring in interest.

He notices when she shifts higher in Shotaro’s lap, when her mouth falls open on a sigh that becomes a moan of Shotaro’s name. And then she starts moving, rolling her hips, and Haechan realizes that Shotaro must have his fingers inside her right now. She clutches at Shotaro’s shoulders, and Haechan wishes with all his being that he could be Shotaro right then. To have his fingers buried inside her soft, tight heat. To have his lips on her tits, her writhing in his lap and saying his name.

Haechan can tell Shotaro isn’t holding back. He’s not teasing, not drawing it out. He’s just giving it to her exactly like she wants it. And Haechan drinks in the show, the way she rides Shotaro’s fingers, her face flushing and eyes aglow when she looks at Shotaro’s face. And then, Haechan gets to witness her cumming, falling apart on Shotaro’s fingers, beneath Shotaro’s lips. She pulls at his hair so tightly.

Haechan doesn’t even notice at first that his hand has risen to his own hair. That he’s knotted his fingers through it. He tugs, and it’s only at the jolt of pleasure that goes straight to his cock that he realizes what he’s doing.

He’s so damn hard in his pants right now.

Even watching her kiss another man, in this context, Haechan feels nothing but arousal. He watches, knowing that it’s wrong, but also knowing that he likes it.

He likes watching her with her guard down, uninhibited and raw with Shotaro, unaware that Haechan’s watching. The thought makes his cock throb a little, and Haechan reaches down, just offering his cock a little squeeze.

They’re moving again in the hot tub. Her and Shotaro are making out, and Haechan, from his vantage point twenty feet away, can only barely hear Shotaro moaning into the kiss. More importantly, Haechan’s focused on the way her body moves, on how she’s clearly grinding down on Shotaro, but Haechan wonders if he missed the moment when she started riding Shotaro, or if she’s really only teasing him right now.

Another squeeze of his hand around his cock, the glide of his palm over the tip.

Fuck, she’s so sexy right now. On top. In charge.

The wind whips around the corner of the house towards Haechan, carrying with it the sound of Shotaro whining. His head thumps against the side of the hot tub, just gazing up at her. Haechan wishes, again, that he was in Shotaro’s spot, looking up at her like she’s a star in the night sky, like she’s the moon, like she’s all that matters in the universe with her pussy so tight around him.

He shivers, his foot moving.

His toes knock into a small branch on the deck, and it makes a small scraping sound, rolling away across the boards.

Haechan moves, drawing further back around the corner, but lingers close enough to peek around.

For a moment he thinks he sees her look in his direction, but there’s no shout of anger, no look of surprise.

She just dips her head to kiss Shotaro’s cheek or his neck. Her hair falls in a curtain obscuring Haechan’s view a little bit until she sits up a moment later. She shivers in Shotaro’s lap, goosebumps rising on her skin and her fucking nipples look like they would feel so good in Haechan’s mouth.

Damn it all.

He pushes his hand down the front of his swim trunks, fingertips moving over his abdomen, down to wrap his hand around his bare cock at last.

Now Haechan can see that she was definitely just grinding on Shotaro before. He can see the way she rises up a little bit, the way she reaches down beneath the water, this look of mischievousness and delight in her eyes as she sinks down on Shotaro’s cock.

And then she moans, and Haechan’s entire body goes numb.

That sound.

It’s unmistakable and so loud that probably half of his friends heard it in the house. Not that her or Shotaro seem to care.

Judging by the way that she moans, Haechan feels a new brand of jealousy. Is Shotaro’s cock really that good? Haechan has never seen it, obviously he’s never heard any tales about it, but if just sinking down on him has her making a sound like that then Shotaro must have a dreamy cock.

Haechan thumbs at his tip, smearing a bit of precum around, reminding himself that he shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be jerking off to the sight of his friends fucking unwittingly in front of him.

But then she starts moving, starts kissing Shotaro in an absolutely filthy way with visible tongue and moaning from both of them. He can see Shotaro with his hands on her ass, her back, her tits.

Haechan just leans against the wall of the house, hand fisting his cock as he starts jerking off, moving his hand at the same pace that she’s moving on Shotaro.

And when she starts bouncing? Tits jumping on her chest, Haechan feels a new jolt of lust and lets a fantasy overlay reality. He’s still watching her with Shotaro, but he’s also envisioning himself beneath her, her pussy hugging his cock, her ass smacking against his thighs, and his lips wrapped around her tit, his hand at her hip to keep her moving. In his fantasy, Haechan is making her moan, but in reality, he’s mostly just hearing Shotaro, which should probably be a turn-off, but something about everything combined means that Haechan’s cock is growing harder, more wet at the tip as he twists his wrist, imagining his face buried in her tits.

He thinks about earlier today, when she’d sat on his shoulders for the game of chicken, the scenario his mind had come up with then of eating her out, her taste on his lips as he’d imagined the smell of her all around him.

Haechan bites his bottom lip, feeling a tug in his belly, the tightness in his balls.

And when he refocuses on the sight in front of him, he watches Shotaro standing up, lifting her out of the water with her legs twisted around his hips. She laughs a little, her voice carrying clear over to Haechan as she says, “Fuck me, Taro! It’s cold out here.”

Shotaro laughs too, turning to sit her ass down on the edge of the tub.

Not that either of them could possibly be aware of it, but doing this has made Haechan’s view just that much better. Although now he’s getting an eye full of Shotaro’s ass, Haechan can also see where their bodies join. Can watch her thighs tighten against Shotaro’s hips as he drives into her, can catch a glimpse of his cock pushing into her and — oh, fuck, Haechan can barely hold in a moan as he sees her pussy. Pretty, perfect. Again, he imagines licking her out, his tongue swirling circles on her clit, her voice moaning his name.

“Taro!” She cries out, shattering that little bit of Haechan’s fantasy. But still.

Her nails rake over Shotaro’s back, and Haechan feels phantom zings of pleasure down to his lower back.

Shotaro fucks her like he’s got experience, and fuck, Haechan supposes that he does have experience right here with her. He knows exactly where to touch, where to kiss, what angles and how deep and everything that Haechan doesn’t know in this situation. He fucks her with confidence, and with the ability to show her so much pleasure that Haechan can tell she’s on the brink of orgasm.

He’s close too, seeing her like this. All laid out like a vision as Shotaro works her to the edge.

And then it happens.

There’s no denying it now, not when she glances his way, and their eyes catch.

Haechan thinks that this is it. That he’s done for.

But she doesn’t look away. She doesn’t yell and make Shotaro stop so they can kill Haechan for being a pervert. She locks eyes with him, and there’s something there in her gaze that makes him reevaluate everything that’s happened in the last few minutes. Earlier when he thought he’d narrowly avoided being caught, had he actually been spotted? Had they put on a show for him?

Fuck, that thought alone, that any part of what he’s witnessing had been done with him in mind, even just a little bit.

Shotaro grabs her chin, dragging her mouth back to his. Her eyes flutter shut, Haechan forgotten.

Haechan doubles down on his cock, and his orgasm hits right as hers rocks through her. He cums over his fist inside his swim trunks, watching her toes curl, her fingers dragging through Shotaro’s hair and down over his shoulders.

He’s still pumping his cock, his body wracked with pleasure, when she slips off Shotaro’s cock to sink into the water, and Haechan watches her give the most intense, sloppiest head to Shotaro. Maybe Haechan cums again a bit, watching her bob her head on another man’s cock, and perhaps he feels a bit filthy for it too, but there’s a deeper satisfaction to be found there.

Haechan doesn’t hang around to watch Shotaro cum in her mouth. He slips back around the house, down the stairs from the deck, and he walks over to the bonfire. They really should’ve put it out before they walked away, but it’s dying now anyway. The last burning embers of it flicker in the wind off the lake, and Haechan takes a seat, wipes his cum-covered hand off on a towel that someone left slung over this chair, and he stares into the embers to process what the fuck just happened.

How is he going to be able to look either of them in the eye again after tonight? If Shotaro knew that he was watching, then their friendship is probably definitely over.

He can’t believe he just stayed there and watched.

Of course, he knew he was a bit of a perv, maybe an exhibitionist when his roommate walked in on him the first time and Haechan liked it. He definitely knew he was into it when he held eye contact with his roommate while cumming that other time. And, sure, his interest in watching porn definitely stemmed from him enjoying watching other people going at it.

But this?

“Haechan.”

It’s the sound of his name that finally snaps him out of his stupor.

He has to blink away the afterimage of the embers imposed on his eyes, but when it clears enough, he sees her and Shotaro both standing there staring at him. Hands clasped, still wet and flushed from the hot tub.

He doesn’t know if they’re here to talk or if they’re claiming one of the nice tents out here to sleep in tonight. Either way, Haechan doesn’t want to be here.

He stands up, not making eye contact, brushing right by them with nothing more than a goodnight.

Inside the cabin, it’s very quiet. Everyone is asleep, and Haechan can feel the need to sleep finally catching up with him, the big bed upstairs calling his name.

Shit, he remembers, the bed isn’t empty anymore.

He does his best to open the door quietly, but even with his caution, he has barely pushed the door open before he hears the sound of a startled movement from the bed. She’s half-lifted herself up, and she’s just staring at him in the dark.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he steps inside. “It’s just me.”

She sighs and sinks back down into the bed, and that’s when Haechan realizes she’s lying on his side of the bed. He prefers the left side, but it seems rude to ask her to move now. He closes the door again behind himself, and he does his best to keep quiet as he moves around the room towards the ensuite bathroom. He needs to rinse off – or at the very least clean up his jizz.

Haechan pulls his hoodie off, letting it fall to the floor, and then he casts a quick glance at the girl laying in his bed. Her back is to him, so he feels fine about it as he drops his swim trunks and takes those last few steps into the bathroom fully nude.

He flicks the light on in the bathroom and takes a look down at himself. Gross. He grabs a wad of toilet paper to clean himself up, then decides the still slightly damp washcloth draped over the edge of the bathtub will be better. It takes only a moment to wipe his tacky cum off his skin, then he turns the light off again, and steps back out into the room. She’s still got her back to him, and she doesn’t move at all when he walks across the room to reach the desk where he’d sat his baggage for the weekend.

It’s pitch black in there anyway, so even if she were to look over at him, it’s not like she would really see anything. And it’s not like Haechan isn’t confident in how he looks. He is. But… this is different.

His bag is sitting on the desk, and he quickly grabs out a pair of sweatpants, slips them on, then walks over to the wrong side of the bed.

“You smell like lake water, bonfire smoke, and chlorine.” Her voice is half-muffled.

“I’ll shower in the morning,” Haechan says, pressing his face into the pillow. It’s not right. This pillow isn’t as comfortable, but that’s probably because he brought the pillow on his side of the bed from home. It’s perfectly formed for him, and he’s half-tempted to drag it out from beneath her head or maybe make her switch him sides of the bed. “You’re on my side of the bed, by the way.”

She snorts a tiny sound of amusement.

Haechan moves just slightly, and he feels his foot bump against some part of her. Possibly her calf – he doesn’t know, all he knows is that whatever part of her it is is soft and warm.

“You’re the one that invited me,” she teases, “Guess you should’ve been more specific about where you wanted me.”

She turns over to face Haechan then, and the movement sends a tiny puff of air in his direction. She smells nice, and he breathes in again, noticing that she doesn’t smell like nasty lake water or chlorine, and she only smells a tiny bit like smoke from the fire, but there’s something else sweet and aromatic about her that makes his mouth water just a tiny bit.

And maybe his dick grows a little hard too, if he’s being honest.

She’s already in his bed, so it doesn’t take a whole lot for his imagination to get carried away, especially not when he notices that now that his eyes have adjusted to the light level, it’s not nearly as dark in this room as he’d first thought. There are two uncovered windows, and light comes in through both of them – from the fading bonfire and from the lights over the hot tub on the deck below.

In that small amount of light, he can see her face now, and when his eyes briefly dip lower he can see that she is still only wearing that clingy thin bra that she’d worn in the hot tub. Her tits look perfect right now, like they would feel perfect in his hands or beneath his lips. He can just imagine rolling her onto her back, tugging the top edge of that material down, taking one of her nipples into his mouth….

But no. He’s not going to fuck her tonight.

They’re just friends, and he might be a manwhore but he’s not an asshole. Making a move on her when it’s already so late and she’s clearly half-asleep, when he’s the one that told her that she could just sleep in this bed, that would obviously be a dick move.

So no, not tonight. But he’s not saying never.

“Next time I’ll make it clear where I want you,” Haechan says, and he hopes she hears the promise that if they someday find themselves in a position at all similar to this one, he’ll be glad to position her exactly how he might want her.

In the morning, Haechan gets rudely awoken by YangYang shoving into the room, not even bothering to knock in his rush to use this room’s bathroom. Haechan just groans and rolls over, stretching his limbs out across the bed as far as they can go, and it takes him a moment to realize why all of the space tickles some part of his brain as strange. Because then he remembers that this bed wasn’t empty when he fell asleep last night.

Haechan lifts his head to squint at the side of the bed that prior to last night had been his. Empty. Sheets rumpled, but empty of the girl who had filled them.

He just drops his head back down, and he rolls over, sliding onto that half of the bed to get comfortable on his own pillow from home.

The only thing is that it doesn’t smell like home right now.

It smells like her, like that pretty attractive scent he’d breathed in last night. He feels a little perverted when he buries his nose in the pillow to take a whiff. There’s one spot that stimulates something deep in his brain, and he wonders if that’s where she’d laid her head for most of the night, if that’s her shampoo that he’s smelling the most right there. He groans a little.

Yeah.

He’s definitely a perv because he’s getting hard again.

First the hot tub voyeurism and now this?

God damn, he’s a freak.

Willfully ignoring the rising problem, Haechan gets out of bed and heads down to the kitchen, determined to start the day off either with a coffee if someone’s got some brewing or a beer or maybe even something stronger if it’s available.

Renjun squints at Haechan when he comes down, complaining about how he’d been woken up by Jeno nearly puking on him, hungover as hell. He lays all the blame on Haechan, since he’d been Jeno’s drinking buddy earlier in the night yesterday, and he’d also been one of the last ones hanging out with him last night, so he should’ve at least gotten him to trade out the alcohol for water. But thinking of Jeno makes Haechan think of the hot tub, and thinking of the hot tub makes him think about the scene he’d witnessed, and that is something he can’t think about right now.

He can’t risk it showing on his face somehow, and he refuses to admit to anyone else about his perverted moment last night. He can’t even face the happy couple. Not over breakfast when they appear in the kitchen hand-in-hand, blushing and bright-eyed from outside where they’d slept in one of those tents.

He avoids them until he can’t anymore.

For some reason, YangYang is the one allowed to steer the boat that had come with this rented property on the lake, which YangYang thinks makes him the Captain. He stands on the dock, waving everyone on board until the boat is at maximum capacity minus one.

Haechan lingers on the dock as Shotaro and his girlfriend step onto the boat.

YangYang stands there, watching Haechan, waiting. “Dude, are you not coming?”

To everyone’s surprise, but no one more so than Haechan, Shotaro answers. “Oh, no. Haechannie likes to just watch.”

Heat flashes through Haechan’s face.

So they both knew about last night.

And Shotaro is making jokes about it.

Her face is lit up with laughter. Everyone else brushes the comment off, but Shotaro smiles, looking at Haechan with forgiveness in his eyes, even amusement.

Haechan rocks past YangYang and onto the boat. He puts his arm around Shotaro’s shoulders, and he glances first at her where she’s watching the two of them, and then he meets Shotaro’s gaze so close to his own.

“Consider me a tourist,” Haechan says, and the feeling of his words resound in his bones. “I just want to enjoy the view.”

That brings a laugh from both of them, Shotaro pushes him away, but Haechan moves further onto the boat. And then YangYang hops on board, unmoors it from the dock, and moments later he’s Captaining everyone across the lake.

And Haechan looks around at his friends, his gaze lingering a little extra long on the happy couple, where Shotaro’s hand rests so low on her waist that it’s pretty much on her ass. His gaze passes momentarily over his friend who’d shared his bed last night; his attention pauses on Jeno where he’s wrestling with Jaemin, both of them shirtless and dripping with the beer that Jaemin had just dumped over Jeno. Haechan sees Karina and Winter drinking with Chenle. There’s Renjun grinning down at his phone at the far end of the boat. And Haechan again Haechan’s attention returns to the girl who had fled his bed this morning, she sits now with her head tipped back to soak in the sun while Xiaojun talks to her and flexes his muscles

Yes, Haechan thinks as he takes it all in, he’s certainly something of a tourist, enjoying the view.

YIMA chapter index || next chapter ->

a/n: Chapter 1 done! If you’d like another perspective of this chapter, you should check out kiss kiss (fall in love) which is a 3 part Shotaro x Y/N fic, and that scene in the hot tub occurs in part 3!

#haechan #nct haechan #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct #lee haechan

516 notes · View notes

marksbear2 · 4 months

Note

Mark I have forgotten how much I was addicted to your writing. Spice or no spice anything really. I have so many requests in my head that it's making me crazy😭 Can you pleaseeeeee write a possessive Charles smith fic?

CHARLES SMITH X MALE READER

⚠️Warnings- Smutt!! Frotting, jealous Charles, slightly mad jealous foreplay, handjob, humping. And etc!!⚠️

Jealously wasn’t an word he would describe himself but as he watched Y/n— no. His Y/n, help out Arthur clean and wax his gun while chatting man.

Though man and man, all the of the rest gang and camp, knew Y/n was his. And yet there Arthur was being too close to Y/n. The two were laughing and nudging one another, making long and strong eye contact with one another.

Charles stomach felt tight. He could feel his own jealousy flare up. He knew Arthur and Y/n has nothing going on but still it didn’t stop his heart feeling the way that it did.

With another glare Charles walked away going back to doing his own thing trying to ignore the jealously he had in his stomach.

After a while it was getting late and everyone was going inside their tents and such. Y/n was there sitting looking at Charles backside. Y/n has been trying to have an conversation with Charles, but the man just gave bland and short answers.

“Charles…Charlie look at me…” Y/n said wrapping his arms around him kissing his cheek.”

“What’s going on with you and…” Charles muttered as he trailed off not wanting to say what he really wanted to say.

Charles turned around and wrapped his arms around Y/n possessively hugging him tightly burying his face in the crook of Y/n’s neck.

Charles clung to Y/N, his arm resting firmly around their shoulders as he pulled them closer, his leg draping over theirs possessively. He pressed his face into the crook of Y/N's neck, his warm breath tickling their skin. His grip tightened ever so slightly as he nuzzled closer to them, seeking comfort in their proximity.

"Mine." He murmured softly against their skin, his voice filled with possessiveness as he held onto them tightly.

Y/n was confused but, it was better then the silent treatment. Y/n leaned into the touch feeling Charles’s large hand roam around his body. Charles hand sneaks up inside his shirt and began to roam around Y/n’s body touching his nipples and tugging them. Y/n was completely confused because just a second ago Charles giving him the silent treatment but he was complaining.

Charles ignored Y/n’s confused expression As the older man touched Y/n and used his free hand to undo his belt. Y/n gripped onto his shoulders, to ‘Stop him’ but he didn’t make a actual effort to push him away.

Once he threw Y/n’s belt to the side he zipped down the fly to your pants, and pushed his hand inside of Y/n’s underwear touching your soft cock.

Y/n let out a gasp as he felt his cold hand wrap around his cock.

“Your cock fits so good in my hand...I bet no one makes you feel like this.” Charles whispered moved his hand against and jerking the semi-soft cock in his hand. Y/n’s body tensed as he felt Charles hand wrap around his cock. Y/n started to get aroused causing his dick to harden.

Charles kissed and peppered Y/n’s neck with small kisses as he stroked his cock until Y/n got fully hard.

Charles laughed softly as he felt his lover’s cock grow and grow in his hand until Y/n were fully hard. He let go of his nipple and used the now free had to tug Y/n’s boxers and pants down low enough for his cock and can spring free from the pants.

Y/n shivered as the cold air in the air reached his cock. Charles stared at Y/n’s shaft for a while slightly admiring the size and the color taking everything in. Charles reached his own hand to his own belt and threw it to the side as he pulled down his boxers and pants he was already hard.

Charles went back to stroking Y/n’s cock as he used his free hand to jerk himself off as well.

While the whole process Y/n could hear him mumble “Your mine” “Only I get to touch you.” Just a bunch of jealous laced words from Charles.

Y/n feel his eyes burning into his skull, studying Y/n as if he were kind of animal. Y/n can feel his breath against his own skin. Charles let’s go of Y/n’s and his own, before grabbing Y/n’s waist and pushing down more into the floor as he rubbed his own cock against Y/n’s.

Both of the men’s cock’s rubbed against each other’s, both tips grazing one another’s. It made Y/n’s face and body hot from arousal. Charles laid in between Y/n’s legs on top of him humping his own cock with Y/n.

Y/n’s tip began to leak out precum it leaked, he began to groan as he thrusted his dick against his. Sometimes he would pull away and rub his tip against your hole teasing you. Charles spit into his hand and took both of y’all’s memebers into his hand jerking the both of you off at the time.

Y/n’s head fell back as his toes curled as he moaned. Charles looked down at Y/n admiring him. He smirked and leaned down pushing his own tongue forcefully in his mouth.

Y/n moaned and kissed him back, moving your tongue back against his own. The two’s tongues swirled and moved around one another’s. Y/n began to move his hips into his hand humping into his hand as both of cocks got wetter and wetter from both precum. Charles squeezed his hand, it felt so good.

Y/n were lost in pleasure with everything, lust consumed him as he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Y/n began let out heavy and erotic moans with small whimpering. Y/n’s body began to jolt and tense as your eyes roll back into his own head, his legs shaking as the tip of his cock shot just cum.

Y/n gasped and held onto Charles shoulders to gather yourself. Y/ms cum got onto his shirt and Charles own cock and hand. Y/n were panting as his cock leaked out all the cum.

Charles had a smug look on his face as he looked at the aftermath of Y/n’s face.

“You might as well let the whole gang hear what I’m doing to you.” Charles whispered kissing him passionately hugging him while whispering praises.

THE END

#x male reader #x reader #male reader #male reader insert #x male y/n #x gn reader #amab reader #Charles smith #charles smith x reader #Charles x male reader #Rd2 x reader #Rd2 x male reader #the bear club

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 5 months

Text

It's Who We Have | Part Ten

Summary: the group reconvenes six months later, setting out to remind both of them what family they have in them | Word Count: 3k~ | Warnings: mentions of PTSD, smut

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The crisp morning air of Castleton felt chilly against their cheeks, the lush greenery of the Peak District stretching out before them. Billy adjusted his overcoat, falling into step beside her, their hands brushing as they traversed the rugged terrain. There was a sense of gentle peace in the air, a warmth that radiated despite the weather, a welcome respite from the once chaotic routine of their lives just six months before.

In the time since Cranstead Fields, winter had come and gone in a pleasant haze of dark nights and a Christmas spent at Billy's parents, with a somewhat hungover trip to Abi and Libby's with the friend group on Boxing Day.

Navigating their way through the aftermath of the indescribable trauma was exhausting. Nightmares haunted Billy at night, but not in the sense he was sat bolt upright, sweating and scared, but in the sense that he barely slept in fear of them.

But he was slowly learning to cope, with her unwavering support.

The way she coped with PTSD was a journey of its own, one that unfolded differently from Billy's. While his nights were often plagued by restless sleep and lingering fears, hers were marked by moments of quiet introspection and occasional bouts of anxiety.

It wasn't easy, and there were still moments of struggle and doubt. But met with steadfast determination and a desire to remain committed wholeheartedly to each other.

In the end, it was she who moved in with him. Her flat had always felt empty, with no real desire to return when her Dad stood on her doorstep in that fateful July. And while Billy's flat was in no way perfect, it felt like home in a way that her own place never had. The walls may have been a bit too bare, the furniture a mishmash of hand-me-downs and charity shop finds, but it wasn't just the physical space that they shared, but also their hopes, dreams, and fears. It was theirs.

In any case, it was nice to finally get away from the hustle and bustle of London, even if they were being pelted by rain and chilled to the bone from the cold, their hands were still warm with the pleasant thrum of their hearts.

Harry’s voice broke through it, “Is it actually the Devil's arse? Cos if it's not then what's the fucking point?”, shortly followed by a raucous laughter, an echo of Libby, Ami, Abi and Harry, who followed shortly behind.

Ami in particular struggled with the rough terrain of the Peak District after her Year Abroad in the concrete laden Beijing. Abi didn’t waste a second making fun of her though, claiming ‘it was his job to as both her twin and older brother’.

Paddy laughed and took Harry’s face in his broad, calloused hands, “Harry I fucking love you, but you’re thick as pig shit.” His words displayed both banter and deep affection, punctuated with a big, sloppy kiss that pulled Harry off balance.

Everyone chuckled, watching Harry regain his composure and forcing the rapidly emerging colour to his cheeks, “Jesus Christ, Pad…that was fucking foul.”

“Yeah that one had a bit of flavour to it, didn’t it.”

“Did you lot see that?! Pad may as well have spat in my mouth!”

Ami, as short and harmless as she appeared, managed to once again knock him off balance as she shoved his shoulder walking past him, following behind everyone else as they trudged up the grassy hill, “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, Hazza.”

As they continued their trek through the rugged beauty of the Peak District, the air filled with laughter and playful banter. Despite the rain pelting down on them and the chill in the air, their spirits remained high, buoyed by the warmth of their deep friendship. The green stretched far into the distance and despite the women’s hair being held in tact in high ponytails, it still whipped across their bright, flushed faces with the flashes of laughter and the wind cold on the tip of their noses.

She, Libby and Ami led the way, their easy chatter filling the air as they reminisced about past adventures and shared inside jokes, as well as the occasional gasp as Ami relayed her experiences on her Year Abroad, and how she never once bought an alcoholic beverage for herself in all her time there. Occasionally Abi was not far behind her, as if not wanting to admit that he was happy she was back, exchanging playful jabs and teasing insults, their bond as siblings evident in their behaviour.

Meanwhile, Harry, Paddy and Billy brought up the rear, their conversation a mixture of lighthearted jokes and heartfelt confessions of slight vulnerability under their facade of boyish banter. Paddy, always the joker, regaled Billy with tales of their past escapades, while Billy, more reserved but no less engaged, listened intently, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, raising the odd eyebrow at the way the two other men seemed very close, with lingered glances.

Billy and her being official for a good while now strangely affected the friend group very little. Despite the events at Cranstead and the trauma they had endured, their friendship group remained a source of comfort and stability. They didn't cling to each other out of fear, but rather revelled in the freedom and carefree spirit that had always defined their dynamic.

Weirdly, it was like it had always been like this. Maybe it had been.

It didn’t stop Billy from stealing glances at her though. For some reason, seeing her so happy again with everybody made his heart feel so full it almost hurt. For some time after, every time he saw her anxiety-struck face, he was bought back to glancing over at her in the passenger seat that hot July day, with moist eyes and a panicked rhythm of her breathing.

It was slowly getting hazier. Replaced with, more often than not, her expression of softened happiness at her existence in this world beside him.

Interestingly, it was Billy’s parents who were the most taken aback by their relationship turning official. They had always seen her as just another member of Billy's sprawling group of friends, almost like a daughter, someone they cared for deeply and looked after, but never envisioned her actually becoming part of their family. Their surprise, however, soon gave way to a supportive acceptance, touched by the genuine affection they witnessed.

It was Jeff who had been most surprised. And they both guessed it was because of the way he was so blasé about everything else in his life, that he had barely paid much attention in the first place.

Lana had put him in his place though, with a smack to the arm, “Wake up, Sherlock, I called it ages ago!” Her tone was teasing, a spark of banter lighting up her eyes as she chided him for his cluelessness.

During breaks in their hike, the friend group often found themselves in candid conversations, sharing their experiences and struggles in coping with the aftermath of Cranstead Fields. Billy and her were the focal points of their collective support, with their friends offering unwavering encouragement and empathy as they navigated the challenges of therapy and healing.

Even amidst the laughter and banter, there was an unspoken understanding among the friends that Billy and her were still healing, still grappling with the scars left behind by their shared trauma. But in all of it, they were always there.

As they reached a clearing, Harry and Paddy took charge of gathering wood for a makeshift fire pit, while Libby and Ami spread out blankets and cushions for everyone to sit on.

Once everything was set up, Paddy pulled out his flask of whiskey with a mischievous grin. "Anyone fancy a little something to warm the bones?" he asked, holding up the flask for all to see.

Harry eagerly reached for it, taking a swig and passing it on to Billy, who shook his head with a chuckle. "Not for me, mate. I'll stick to tea," he said, pulling out his own flask filled with hot tea, pulling her towards him with the other so the two could share both in the heat of the flames as well as the comfort of each other.

"Thanks," she said with a grateful smile, a rush of warmth gathering at her cheeks that made her feel like a teenager again, so she leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, to watch the way it similarly affected him.

Libby, who had been observing the exchange with a knowing smirk, couldn't resist chiming in. "Three guesses to what you two are gonna do when you get back," she teased, nudging her playfully.

She smirked back, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I don't think you need three guesses," she replied, casting a glance at Billy. "Besides, probably holier than whatever you and Abi are gonna do."

"You're not wrong," Libby conceded with a laugh, exchanging a knowing look with her now fiance. "But we'll leave the details to your imagination."

“ARE YOU TWO TALKING ABOUT SEX AGAIN?!”

“Harry, shut the fuck up!”

With the fire crackling merrily and the warmth of friendship enveloping them, they settled in for a cosy evening under the stars, sharing stories, laughter, and the occasional flask of tea or whiskey. Sometimes both. Her ending up perched on Billy's thigh as she nursed the small cuppa in her gloved hands. It ended late into the night, with a slightly wobbled approach back to their bed and breakfast. Billy and her saw off each of them before slipping into their own room with a pleasant rush of the central heating on their faces.

With a soft sigh, she kicked off her boots, the worn leather hitting the floor with a dull thud. Her overcoat followed suit, landing in a heap on the nearby chair as she turned to face the bed, gathering her moistened hair to tie it out of her face.

"Train's at 12 o'clock tomorrow. Shall we get up early-ish for breakfast?" she asked, the excitement evident in her voice.

Billy nodded in agreement though she couldn’t see him, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of anticipation and affection. "Sounds like a plan," he replied, moving closer to her until their bodies were just inches apart.

She sank into his touch when his long arms wrapped around her middle, his heart beating pleasantly against her back, and burying his face in her hair, rocking with her body as if to sleep. As his arms enveloped her, holding her close, she couldn't help but notice the slight stiffness in his embrace, a silent acknowledgment of the shared trauma they both carried. They had grown accustomed to navigating the world together, finding solace in each other's presence, yet the lingering fear of confined spaces, especially cars, remained a constant reminder of the horrors they had faced.

But she didn’t say anything. She simply covered his hands with hers. And often, that’s all she needed to do for his shoulders to loosen.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, smiling against her crown.

She chuckled softly as if not believing him, the sound like music to his ears. How could she believe him when she had been pelted by wind and rain all day. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she teased, turning in his embrace to face him, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Billy grinned, his fingers trailing lightly along her jawline. "Good thing I'm already exactly where I want to be," he quipped.

Her laughter bubbled up again, infectious and pure. "Smooth talker," she teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

He returned the kiss with equal tenderness, savouring the sweet moment between them. "Just stating the truth," he murmured against her lips, his breath mingling with hers.

He smelled of cigarettes, rain and the shampoo he’d used that morning. So normal and mundane, and yet it excited her nonetheless when they lay in bed together, hands clamouring for skin as if they were forbidden lovers, deprived of touch and separated by tragedy. And though there was no negativity of the kind to be found, the necessity behind the pressure of their fingers undoing each other's clothes, popping buttons, tugging at sleeves and kneading flesh, was there all the same.

Billy's touch was subtly rough yet reassuring, his fingertips tracing patterns along her skin as if committing every curve and contour to memory. And she, in turn, responded eagerly to his touch, her body melting into his with a sense of familiarity and belonging that filled her with a profound sense of peace.

In the quiet intimacy of their embrace, they found refuge from the outside world, cocooned in the warmth of their love and the gentle rhythm of their breaths. The gentle tapping of heavier rain cast a mist against the window of the room, a waterfall endlessly making its way down like a slick of oil. It was strangely calming, with only the sound of the oncoming storm, spurred by the arrival of the evening, as the gentle background noise between laboured, passionate breaths.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging onto him tighter with every lazy thrust into her. She looked at him with a sort of reverence, the sheets draped around his middle, and appreciated the way his stomach muscles flexed. In the months they’d been together, he’d lost a little bit of that wiry, lanky look and broadened somewhat. Not that she would dare complain.

Billy let out a stuttered moan, batting against her neck, leaning over her with chests flush and skin tacky to press open-mouthed kisses to her collarbone, his hands clamped tight around her waist.

Since the trial, nearly all of Billy’s sex was like this. Lazy, languid and thoughtful. Sometimes, on odd occasions where he had some beer in him, he was needy and more risky, engaging in quickies stolen in dark corners, spurred on by the real threat of getting caught. Paddy had nearly rumbled them once.

“Never want to let you go -” he breathed, ragged, “-just want you all to myself.”

Her brows drew together, breath hitching as he pressed his forehead to hers, blue eyes unyielding as his usually lingering touch drifted south to her thighs, fingers flexing as he tugged one around his hip with bruising intensity. The angle coupled with the relentless bullying of her sweet spot , had a long moan slipping between her lips.

At first, Billy had been hesitant with their intimacy. After knowing her for so long outside the realms of romance, that was the one part where she felt the need to coax him out of his shell. She was a woman, and he a man. And while they had been friends for so long with something primal and deep simmering beneath, he was allowed to lose control with her. He was allowed to explore what a loving, sexually healthy relationship felt like. Allowed to discover what she liked, what he liked, what they both really liked, and sometimes what they didn’t like.

Once teased from his cage though, there was no way Billy was going back. But still, when his thumb lingered at her lips, blue eyes trained over her face to watch her hedonistic expression, he still blushed and felt a twinge of white hot pleasure jolt up his spine, when she took his thumb between her lips and caressed it with her tongue.

He nearly faltered. And she had to bite back a smile when she felt his hips tremble.

And yet it surprised her every time how he was able to turn the tables. For someone who some would assume was shy and unassuming, his now moist thumb glistened from her lips and dipped between her legs, where he was still pushing into her with heightening intensity, to apply gentle, but calculated pressure to her bud. Her fingernails dug into his back, lips parted with no sound, feeling as if she was being flung from some great height along with him.

“Oh, Billy-”

Billy never lasted long after her. It was as if he was impatient to follow her in the breathless embrace of their highs. Both barely said a word. ‘I love you’s and constant praises were sometimes whispered in embarrassed laughs and tender words, but most of the time, there was little need to say anything at all.

Anything either of them said was communicated long ago. Like a tapestry of feelings and histories of them, woven forever into a story that formed each of them.

In the soft, calm afterglow of sex, Billy pulled her back to his chest, one hand idly brushing the tangles from her hair lovingly. His eyes were too watching the river made by the heavy rain, but felt no weight in his heart at the sight.

Rain always reminded him of her, of the memory of her once upon a time. Of the way she looked on that morning at Primary school. Of her wide, mischievous eyes when they’d rush home on the way from Cranstead Fields, trying to out-run the rain. Of her delicate features, flushed from chill and hair frizzy from humidity when she stood in his kitchen with parted lips. Each moment ignited something different, unique, but something that never left him, and only added to the complex emotions that stirred for her.

A smile crept to his lips at the memory of a few hours before, sitting before the fire pit and sharing a flask of tea, warming their bellies with it and thus their fingers before the flames. He thought of how the fire had burned out in a warm orange glow over their faces. And Billy closed his eyes, and allowed himself to sink into that feeling, into the memory of the love and laughter of the ones he held close to his heart.

And her, well…she saved him more than once in body and soul.

Each rescue, whether from the dark pits of his own doubts or from the brink of physical peril, had woven their lives inseparably together. She was his beacon in the storm, a lighthouse guiding him back to safety with her unwavering strength and tender care. Cradled by love and mutual devotion, Billy truly understood the essence of what they shared.

It was who they had, and in the end, that was everything.

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