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#then it just sits in my drafts for six months
heart-of-trafalgar · 3 days
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𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 - 𝐃𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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Genre - Smut, in which you're greeted with a startling, but welcomed, surprise in the middle of the night when Dabi lets himself into your apartment.
Word Count - 1.9k
Content - Dabi's lowkey a creep but you're into it, slight stalker vibes but this is Dabi we're talking about so, strangers to lovers, piv, unprotected sex, minimal prep, creampie
Authors Note - Right, so this has been sitting near finished in my drafts for approximately *checks watch* six months. So I figured it was time to let it loose. Hope you enjoy and thank you to @/cafekitsune for the dividers!
Tagged - @tetzoro @oooohno @eussstasss @koenigami @neko-my-cat
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Dabi didn’t know what he was doing here.
Well, he did, but he didn’t know why he was being so reckless. If he played his cards wrong here he could have the city’s top heroes after him in minutes.
But if he played them right…
He sat on the parapet of the adjacent building with a clear view into your apartment, thanks to the fire escape window you had left wide open. Giving him the perfect view of you dancing around your bedroom in nothing but a black silk robe with music blaring from a speaking in the background.
Dabi chuckled in amusement, watching you shake your hips to the beat of whatever song you were listening to. Your eyes were closed as you clutched handfuls of your own hair, the expression on your face was one of need and desire and Dabi had to admit it was becoming contagious.
The reality of the situation was that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Despite only meeting you exactly once before tonight, he had decided that he needed to find out. To find out how sweet your moans would sound as he thrusted into you to the rhythm of the music. How soft and plush your skin would be gripped in between his fingers. How loudly you would scream at him to give you more.
Oh hell, he couldn’t take it anymore.
Jumping and gracefully landing on the fire escape leading to your window, Dabi continued to watch just out of your view, not that you were paying attention anyway. Upon further investigation he saw that your silk robe barely covered your thighs and a pair of black panties were peeking out from underneath.
Biting his lip, Dabi crept forward, his heart beating a mile a minute with anticipation. He stepped inside, being careful not to alert you of his presence, waiting until you had your back turned to him.
In an instant he pounced, coming up from behind and wrapping his arms around your torso, clutching a breast in each hand and squeezing tight. He snaked his head around to kiss your neck before whispering in your ear. “What’s going on, baby?”
You let out a gasp upon his touch, and instead of flinching or fighting to get away, you melted into his chest. “It’s you.”
“Yeah,” He chuckled, feeling the satisfaction running through his veins. “It’s me.”
You tried to move so to face him, but Dabi made sure to hold you in place by squeezing your tits once again, automatically getting a lewd moan from your lips.
“Showing off in front of the window tonight sweetheart?” He spoke into your skin. “It’s like you were asking for me to invite myself in.”
“Maybe I was.” You breathed, tilting your neck a little so he had more room for purchase. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
“Awe.” Dabi licked another stripe up your jaw line. “That’s sweet of you, doll. Good thing I was thinking about you too.”
He suddenly spun you around, planting his hands on your ass as he gave you an aggressive kiss on the lips. No objections came as you wrapped you arms around his neck, bringing him in closer and licking into his mouth.
Dabi couldn’t help but moan against you, his cock twitching in his pants. The fact that you had no idea who he was, that he was a perfect stranger to you, unabashedly turned him on, and quite frankly he couldn’t get enough of it. He hoped to abuse it for all it was worth, until time ran out of course.
He gripped the flesh of your ass tighter and walked you back towards the bed. Without hesitation you picked up on the cue and started to push his jacket off his shoulders. His hands left your body to rip his shirt over his head, revealing his stitched, marbled chest. You didn’t gasp or stare like he thought you would, instead you began to run your finger over the flesh delicately.
Dabi’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. The blind acceptance, the lack of inquiry or questions or fear, it was driving him mad with hunger. He needed to have you, to devour you, to make you his.
As you neared the bed he snaked his hands underneath the silk of your robe, feeling the lace of your panties running over his fingers and digging into the fabric.
“Yenno, anybody could have showed up.” He mumbled inches away from your lips. “Were you expecting someone else? Dancing around like this?”
“No.” You cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, desperation in your voice. “I’ve been waiting for you since that night.”
He hummed before grabbing your wrists and letting you fall back onto the bed. “Not gonna lie… Didn’t think you’d be into this sort of thing, sweetheart.”
“Yet here you are.” You kept your eyes on him as you untied the knot of your robe to reveal no matching bra to the panties you were wearing. “Because deep down you did know.”
“I at least wanted to find out.” Dabi smirked, drinking your body in, and undid the belt to his jeans. “Can’t say I’m disappointed.”
You bit your lip as he pulled down his pants and boxers in one go, his hard cock springing free and standing to attention. Dabi leaned down to kiss you, crawling onto the bed in between your legs. He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand while the other brushed down your chest to breeze over a nipple.
You let out a moan against his lips, rubbing your thigh along his hip to encourage him forward. He caught on quick and reached down to run a thumb over his tip, smearing the precum onto his cock head and running a finger up your clothed slit, earning himself a whine.
“Find out if you wanted me to come through your window at night,” Dabi panted, speaking right against your lips as he pulled down your panties. “If you wanted me to fuck you silly without having to know my name?”
“But I do want to know your name.” You breathed out.
“Well maybe if I’m feeling nice afterwards I’ll share it with you.” He kissed you again as he lined himself up with your already slick entrance. “So fucking wet for me already.”
You clung to him tightly as he slowly sunk into you, sealing your eyes shut and moaning loudly against his lips. Once he was buried deep inside your cunt he began to move, groaning back to you. “Fuck.”
“Oh my god!” You cried, dragging your fingers through his hair before clutching on tight. “Oh fuck...”
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He panted in your ear as he began to pick up the pace. “So fucking tight for me.”
It wasn’t as much prep as you probably needed, but Dabi couldn’t stop his hips from moving vigorously to the music that was still playing in the background of your room. The beat was high tempo and fast, yet still held the perfect momentum to thrust into you.
His breath was hot against your skin as he groaned in your ear. He couldn’t look at you, couldn’t let you see how good your pussy felt wrapped around his cock, so he kept his face buried deep in the crook of your neck as he kept up the pace.
“Aah! F-Fuck! Please…” You moaned, unable to complete your sentence without squeezing tighter against him. “Please let me scream your name.”
 Dabi faltered for a single moment before he grunted out. “’s Touya.”
“Touya!” You cried, pressing your forehead against his temple. “Oh my god, Touya you feel so fucking good!”
The use of his name sent a chill down his spine, how you said it with all the pleasure you possessed, it was doing something to him. Trying to push it aside, he hooked his arm under your leg and found purchase on the fat of your thigh, using the ever so slight shift to fuck into you harder.
“Aah, Touya.” Your chest began to heave faster against his own as you sang his name like a prayer. It was heavenly to hear from your lips. “Touya, I’m close!”
Dabi grunted as he put his all into his thrusts. He could feel his own climax approaching and released your wrists to push himself up so he was looking at you. You were absolutely breathtaking like this, beneath him with all the lust filled desires you possessed on full display. Your eyes were gorgeous, they were also telling, very telling of how feverish you were for him, how much you needed him.
Despite himself, despite everything he knew that he was, he still wanted you to see where his intentioned lied, that he wanted you too. You had kept a grip on him ever since that first encounter, he wasn’t entirely sure how, or better yet why but every nerve ending in his body wanted nothing more than to claim you for himself.
“Cum for me, baby.” He pressed his forehead against your own without breaking eye contact. “Cum around my cock.”
Your back arched off the mattress as you came with a force, letting out a wanton moan that Dabi had to cut off with a kiss. He came a moment behind you, groaning back against your lips as his movements became uneven and slow. He gripped your thigh tightly and he ground his hips into you before finally stopping.
The two of you laid there panting for breath as Dabi let most of his weight fall onto you. Nothing was said for a long time, instead you just gently stroked the nape of his neck while he laid with his arms slightly tucked behind you for a makeshift embrace.
Eventually he stood up. Taking his time to gather his clothes, he slowly got dressed in front of you, feeling your eyes on him the entire time, knowing that you didn’t want him to disappear yet again.
But he had to. He didn’t have enough decorum for the vulnerability that came next.
As he pulled on his jacket Dabi felt your arms wrap around his torso. You were still naked, pressing your forehead to his back before hesitating to ask him. “Will I ever see you again?”
He thought about it for a second without turning around. “We’ll see.”
You hummed, but he could hear the disappointment without seeing your face. “Touya… isn’t your real name is it?”
Dabi closed his eyes and remained still for a moment longer before answering you.
“Nah.” He walked out of your grasp and headed for the window. “Not anymore.”
Without looking back he jumped over the fire escape railing, landing on a dumpster just a few stories down before heading off down the alley and into the street. He didn’t know if this would realistically work, if he was even capable of letting someone in to see all the scars of his soul, but he decided then and there that he was willing to try.
He had a feeling you were too.
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jewelleria · 2 days
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I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again. Here are some of my thoughts.
I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 
But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 
This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 
I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not as close to what’s happening as I am.
How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying I live in Palestine and saying I live in Israel? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 
I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places in America, set up camp in London for a while, and had a brief stint in Helsinki. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 
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If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 
I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 
But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I look at pretty things and take out my phone because I think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 
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So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life, one filled with sunsets and over sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 
But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 
They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 
These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfiring makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 
Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 
No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.
But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 
I am a Jew. 
Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 
I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 
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Now, let’s go back to when I mentioned the hateful message I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 
Then they sent me this: 
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I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.”
Where they drew these conclusions after reading a (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 
For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 
But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 
I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 
And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel?(Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two terms interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.
But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 
There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and hem and haw about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.
But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 
So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. 
I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 
I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 
I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.
But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 
When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.
My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 
I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. He hasn’t answered since the sun set on the Book of Esther. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 
source reading
The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications
Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn
Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha
I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg
The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes
Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board
There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart
The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit
“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi
When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss
Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller
Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer
What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins
The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore
Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman
The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman
How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner
This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press
Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss
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sundrop-writes · 13 hours
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Sundrop's Stranger Things Masterlist
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Please note - I am just posting this masterlist to get it out of my drafts - I worked on it when I was working on the fic listed below, and then I completely randomly lost interest in it, and this has been sitting in my drafts for months ever since. And I love the formatting and style of this masterlist and I don't want to accidentally lose it by accidentally deleting the draft - and I am gonna need this masterlist at some point. So I'm posting it.
Coming "Soon":
Nasty - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. You hesitate to tell Eddie your true sexual desires, fearing that he'll be turned off. But when he finds out - he is more turned on than ever. (3,000 words.)
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Note: The rest of these link off to AO3 (which is the bulk of them unfortunately) - but at some point, I hope to have them edited and posted to Tumblr.
Sugar, We're Goin' Down - Steve Harrington x Fem!Thick!Reader x Eddie Munson. Friends to Lovers. Smut. Eddie hasn't gotten laid in months, so when he walks in on you and Steve (and neither of you seem to notice), he has just enough sexual frustration built up that he can’t bring himself to look away. He discovers quite a few things about Steve, and you. And himself. (12,700 words.)
Eat Me Up Alive - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Thick!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut. Eddie is a very annoying person. And when he goes too far, you push back. Turns out - he likes it. Loves it, actually. (11,200 words.)
I'm Still Standing - Nancy Wheeler x Fem Disabled/Chronically Ill Reader. Friends to Lovers. Angst, Smut, (very slight Fluff). Hurt and Comfort. You start having horrible waking nightmares, but you don't want to worry your best friend Nancy by telling her. She's already occupied trying to chase down a trans-dimensional killer wizard, and you are convinced that the two aren't possibly related. (37,800 words.)
Bless This Mess - ADHD!Eddie Munson x Fem!Thick!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut and Fluff. Eddie accidentally forgets the two of you have a date planned. Rather than getting mad at him, you let him make it up to you. (5,700 words.)
Always Yours - Steve Harrington x Fem!Pregnant!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Fluff and Smut. Steve tells you about his 'six lil nuggets' dream, and you let him know that he's actually a lot closer to it than he thought. (2,500 words.)
Obey Your Master - Eddie Munson x Fem!Autistic!Thick!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut (and some Fluff). You are taking care of Eddie while his wounds from the Upside Down are healing. And when you offer to help 'take care' of him in other ways, he's convinced that he survived to live just for this exact moment. (11,200 words.)
Fix You - Eddie Munson x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Fix-It Fic. Hurt and Comfort. Most of your life, all you knew was darkness. Eddie was the one light in all of it. And you refused to lose him. (5,300 words.)
Drowning In You - Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader. Enemies to Lovers. Smut (slight Emotional Angst). Working with Billy at Hawkins Pool forced you to be around him. But forgetting part of your mandatory uniform at home and being harassed by random men because of it forced you to truly confront your feelings for him. (22,100 words.)
You Shook Me All Night Long - Steve Harrington x Fem!Thick!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Smut and Fluff. Steve never really saw you. Until one day, when you stood out as the hottest babe he had ever seen. And on that day, he just happened to be wearing the dorkiest outfit ever and stuttering over himself to impress you. Somehow, it worked. (45,000 words.)
Daisy Fields (Companion to You Shook Me All Night Long) - Steve Harrington x Fem!Thick!Reader. Established Relationship, Family Fluff. Some Smut, Fluff. You and Steve happily pursue your life together, more than thankful for the silly little ice cream shop that brought the two of you together. (20,600 words.)
(This last one, I don't really like. I wrote it a long time ago, and it doesn't really go with my current style. But perhaps somebody seeing this masterlist can get some reading enjoyment out of it. It's just very unlikely to be re-posted on Tumblr.)
Monstrous - Steve Harrington x Fem!Powered!Reader. Established Relationship. Angst and Fluff. Steve finds out your big secret, and you are surprised when he doesn't hate you for it. (5,200 words.)
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reh-hateshumans · 2 years
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you want to be manhandled. i want to be monsterhandled. we’re not the same.
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milkovichs · 1 year
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IAN GALLAGHER
you know, he thinks being bipolar means he’s doomed to be a piece of shit like our mother. maybe it’s true. maybe it’s not.
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avidcollectorofdust · 7 months
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What. Where did y’all come from
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cuz-reasons · 8 months
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Summary: After getting badly injured, Ingo isn't sure where he keeps waking up. But there is always someone he doesn't recognize, but knows he loves with him. Emmet is equal parts happy and stressed over Ingo's return home.
I'm finally getting this up before I forget again
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purble-gaymer · 2 months
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mmm just wanted to say that i really love your writing and i'm really excited to see what you make in the future! your gsa stuff is so pleasant and angsty and i've really been enjoying wwtmk <3 that's not even getting into how much i liked the cannibalism fic.... now you'll be a part of me forever !! i'm such a sucker for that kind of thing.
actually, i was kind of wondering what you were plotting for the future so i could look forward to it! i've loved following your work so farrrr
waa hello thank you!! yknow i don't hear much about the beast in the walls but i really love that one so good to know! i can share some of my prospective calendar (though everything i say is subject to change)
once wwtmk is done, i probably won't be posting much for a bit. i might do something sword/blade/mk related for valentine's day if i can think of an idea before then. after that though, i have another little project focused on the knights at the time they first met. it's a continuation of a fateful encounter. at the moment it's sitting at about 23k, and i think i'm a little past halfway through it. ideally i'll start publishing it sometime in late february or march, but winter is usually the busiest and most stressful term so it'll be later rather than sooner. plus i'd like to have a majority of it written out first. i don't exactly have a surplus of time or energy this time of year so it'll be a while still.
most ship content will probably end up on my other pseud for the foreseeable future (excluding the potential valentine's thing) to avoid like...cluttering things, i guess? so for that there's always more knights, maybe metamorpho in a normal context, maybe arthur/nonsurat for the two people who care because i love them a lot. oh and also falspar and dragato doing whatever the hell they're doing because i would die for them.
absolutely there will be more gsa one-shots. i've had some ideas floating around but no energy to really get into them. plus my usual strategy for the gsa is to sit down and write for three straight hours because they sort of automatically put me in a flow state, and i can't do that at school cause i have other things to do. there might be some stuff about their history. i don't really know where to begin with all that, plus there's ocs i'd have to deal with, so we'll see. galacta knight related stuff is also a possibility, especially more about him and mk when they were working for nme. check out how much galactadad angst i can make
overall this year i wanna write more out of my comfort zone honestly. writing things like the beast in the walls or know your place was weird but it was also really really fun. so if i ever jump on any out-there ideas, i might actually do something with them. OH THIS INCLUDES AN ARTHUR AND MK BEING FAMILY THING I'VE BEEN SITTING ON. i completely forgot about that. i should polish it up and publish it for my birthday because it is so self-indulgent and silly. so that is now happening next week. metamorphosed one-shot is also happening later this week (tomorrow or thursday) because i'm normal about that au.
so that's a lot, and most of it is very up in the air because i'm always doing things...but you can 100% expect more knights content in the near future. wwtmk is like standing on the edge of a canyon peeking into my kirby interpretations. i have to write or i will explode
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druidgroves · 2 years
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Varric: We’d all best get to the Gallows, and quick. It’s going to be quite a show.
DRAGON AGE 2 | ACT 3 ↳ The Last Straw - Anders’ Fate
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losferatuu · 1 year
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she worth every dollar and she worth every minute
[video description: 34 second long video edit of various clips of louis from anne rice’s interview with the vampire, set to the chorus of six inch by beyonce]
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cheese-water · 1 year
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guess who found the drafts folder on accident and that tumblr isn’t lying to you when it says “Draft saved!” before your site crashes
…any guesses?
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months
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The Good Omens Musical Masterpost🎵❤
How it started :)
Some time before 2013: Vicki Larnach, the australian composer and lyricist, read the Good Omens book, imagined figures dancing on stage with brilliant music and thought, ‘Ah, I’m gonna ask Terry Pratchet and Neil Gaiman if I can turn it into a musical.’ and sent an email to the publishers. The next day she got an email saying, ‘We don’t want a musical but Terry’s coming to Australia, so come and say hello and tell us what you got.’
Rob Wilkins came down to meet Vicki and Jim Hare - Vicki's husband and writer - and took them to meet Terry. They spent an hour and a half with them where Terry asked ‘piercing questions’, had tea with them and they showed Terry a song that Vicki wrote (about the Chattering Nuns). Terry said to Rob, ‘Rob, write and email to Neil, “Dear Neil, this is Terry. I’m sitting in front of two hippies from Sydney and they want to make a musical out of Good Omens and I’m tempted to let them do it.”’ which was the best email they ever heard and then Terry said, ‘Okay, you have me curious.’ - it was because of the Nuns song which sounded like the book. ‘I’m gonna give you six months, come back with a first draft libretto and five songs.’
They then sent it to Terry who sent it to Neil. Terry said, ‘I really like it, you’re moving story, you’re doing all the right things, but where’s showstopper, where’s the toe-tapper, you know I need people to go to intermission just snapping their fingers with the song they just can’t get out of their head, and I haven’t heard that.’ - and they realized that they were so busy serving the story they forgot to do the wow-factor, but found it very encouraging from Terry that he wanted to make it better.
They went through the whole book again to find a centrepiece - and they found it  when Warlock is growing up and Aziraphale and Crowley are with him, and spent months working just on that one thing and called ‘All Living Things’ [the song at the start of this post :)] which is a line from the book.*’ Terry gave that song to a person he knew and asked him to play it to his wife with no context and when the next day the person said that his wife woke up still singing the song Terry said to Vicki and Jim: ‘Well, that’s what I asked you to do.’ 
* [“This here’s Brother Slug,” the gardener would tell him, “and this tiny little critter is Sister Potato Weevil. Remember, Warlock, as you walk your way through the highways and byways of life’s rich and fulsome path, to have love and reverence for all living things.” “Nanny says that wivving fings is fit onwy to be gwound under my heels, Mr. Fwancis,” said little Warlock, stroking Brother Slug, and then wiping his hand conscientiously on his Kermit the Frog overall.]
Vicki and Jim got the permission to being adapting it as a musical in 2013.
Vicki and Jim on it a couple of years ‘fumbling about’, took it as far as they could and decided to bring another person into it: Jay-James Moody
In 2015, Jay James-Moody joined the collaboration initially as a dramaturge and directorial eye, eventually evolving into co-book writer. Vicki, James and Jay have continued to evolve through countless more revisions and a number of private development readings with the support, time and talent of numerous wonderful Australian performers testing the material.
In November 2017, the musical was presented in its then-current form and entirety for the first time before an audience of over 500 eager attendees. The cast included Luke Joslin, Lachlan O’Brien, Nancye Hayes, Barry Quin, Brett O’Neill, Lauren McKenna, Nicholas Craddock, Paul Capsis, Rob Johnson, Amy Lehpamer, Debora Krizak, Blake Erickson, Nat Jobe, Ana Maria Belo, Jordan Hare, Bella Thomas, Anthony Abrakmanov and Samson Hyland.
Following a rapturous response to this reading it continued to be refined and developed.
In 2019, ten days before the show came out they did their last presentation, since then they’ve been to London and shown a videotape of that workshop to Neil and Rob which was ‘a pretty heartstopping experience’ but both Neil and Rob were ‘so lovely and very generous with their time’ and they were showing it to them and in the intermission Neil said ‘I wish Terry could have seen this.’ (see here :))
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Differences between the musical and the book
The ending of the musical is a bit different, they were worried about it but Neil said, ‘I totally understand, the ending of the TV series is different, because I had something that was book-shaped and I needed to make it TV-shaped. And you had something that was book-shaped and you needed to make it stage-shaped.’
It opens with the burning of Agnes Nutter and Aziraphale and Crowley are introduced there. 
Act One ends with them ‘essentially breaking up’ because of a huge argument and they dissolve their friendship, Act Two starts with the first time they meet.
The Future?
What is the future for the musical: in 2021 they said that they need to work on some things and then they hope to do another run, initially in Australia.
There will be a CD of the soundtrack available when the show is produced in it’s full version.
Videos
Vicki, Jim and Jay talking 46min about the musical (this video was shown at the Ineffable Con 3 in 2021 :))
Sizzle Reel 6min
Anathema singing The Perfect Place
Crowley calling Dagon to check on the hellhound
Shadwell and Newt
Aziraphale vanishing Hastur 👀
Links
Webpage
Instagram - a lot of more bts videos and pics :)
How to support?
Subsribe to the instagram page and like and comment that you want the musical on posts :)❤. If you want to be a sponsor or donor, there is contact on their webpage.
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champagneholland · 4 months
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Lover | Charles Leclerc
Author's notes: I have six unfinished stories in my drafts and in less than a day I finish a new one. I don't know anymore what to do with myself. Warnings: nothing is like it seems ;), pregnancy, fluff, baby fever Summary: From allegedly cheating on her to having a baby together or "Fuck, Cherie, I can explain," Charles said moving the blankets to hide his side chick "There is an explanation". Y/N crossed her arms, a scolding glance painted on her face "I can see her tail, Charles". Masterlist
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Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover
The house was silent when she entered the house. Y/N called out his name a few times followed by a loud 'I am home' to which she got no reply. She took off her shoes and walked upstairs. Once she reached the corridor, the girl heard some noises coming from the bedroom. She understood immediately what was happening and decided to tiptoe, walk in on them, and catch them in the act. The door was closed, and the giggles amplified as Y/N opened it, slamming it hard. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped to the floor when she saw what was happening in their bed. "Fuck, Cherie, I can explain," Charles said moving the blankets to hide his side chick "There is an explanation". Y/N crossed her arms, a scolding glance painted on her face "I can see her tail, Charles". Charles could not hide anymore his smile and pulled off the blanket where Luna, their two-month Golden Retriever was hiding. The moment the puppy spotted her mum, she started barking and her tail moved even faster in excitement. "I thought we said she was not allowed on the bed," she said as she approached Luna and started petting their new baby. The boy gave her puppy eyes "She was so sad, you know I can't say no to her". It was true, in the past three weeks Luna had silently stolen Charles' heart and wrapped him around her paws. Her big brown eyes always lit up when he walked into a room, and she constantly wanted to sit next to him (or on top of him) on the sofa. Y/N was cut out from the picture. What started as something funny turned into a serious issue, at least for her. Especially because this love was equally reciprocated: Charles also had eyes just for baby Luna. Almost every day he came home with a new toy and always sneaked treats when he thought his girlfriend was not looking. "Come sit with us, my love" Charles said, "so I can properly cuddle both my girls". My girls. Those words made butterflies erupt in her belly. She could not wait to tell him that soon there might have been a third girl running around the house. But that was not the right moment, so she pushed that thought into the back of her head. Y/N took off her pants and jumped on the bed and onto Charles' arms. Luna squeezed herself between the two parents (this is how they referred to themselves) so that she could be petted by both of them. Her boyfriend asked her about her day, and they spent a few minutes like that, cuddling and talking about everything and anything. He said his mum had invited them to dinner that weekend and then showed her some new pictures he had taken of Luna while she was at work. Those tranquil, mundane moments were the best bits of her day. And the puppy was now a bonus. She was actually the one who got the pet. Her brother recently got a dog and when they met Malcolm, Charles became obsessed with the small Beagle. His smile was so pretty, and she would have done everything to see those dimples, so a couple of days later, Luna was waiting for him in the living room, a red bow on her collar. She had to admit, Charles took the father role seriously and seeing him taking such good care of Luna made her heart melt. Of course, Y/N had no doubt Charles would have been great, he had always taken good care of her and his loved ones. "I have to go now, I have a paddle match with Max and the others" he said, bringing her back from her thoughts "I would stay with you here, my loves". "Come on, you need to see your friends too. I'll take care of Luna while you are away". He gave her a kiss and tons to Luna whose tail moved frantically. Charles then collected his things and blew her (or Luna, who could tell) one last kiss before leaving the house. Y/N made sure he was gone before opening the nightstand next to the bed. Under pairs of panties and bras, she found the box she was looking for. "Well," she said looking at Luna "I think it's time to take this test".
She sat on the floor, Luna on her side looking at her with curious eyes. A part of her believed the puppy somehow knew what was going on, or at least the seriousness of the issue. "I am so scared, Luna" she confessed "What if I am not ready? With you it's been so easy, but a real baby? I don't know if I can handle that". The puppy got closer to her and put her tiny face next to her belly and Y/N took this as a sign. She picked up the test she left on the toilet seat and looked at the result. Then she started crying.
Charles was of course the first one to know. He cried too and then he hugged her and kissed her and then hugged her again. Charles really could not believe the family was enlarging again so soon. He had always wanted a big family, with lots of kids running around the house. It was hard keeping the secret; in his head, the baby was already there. He bought a cradle, some clothes and emptied one of the rooms in the house. "You will be a big sis, Luna" Charles always said to the puppy, who was growing as fast as Y/N's bump. Charles's hands had never been that busy, one on her belly and the other petting his first daughter. During those months he had been the biggest supporter. Somehow, he always knew what she needed the most, the best word to use and the part of her body that was hurting her the most. Y/N had no doubts he would have been an amazing dad. But her? Would she be a good mum?
Those nine months went by faster than she had imagined. The house was still a mess, Charles wasn't done painting and Luna thought breaking all the pillows in the living room was a good idea. The contractions could have started at a worse moment, Y/N said to herself, and her boyfriend panicked because he could not find the bag for the hospital anymore. Charles rushed into the room and slipped on one of Luna's toys tumbling on the ground with a loud scream that made her laugh and, for a moment, she forgot she was about to experience the worst pain ever endured. She could not have picked anyone better than him to be the love of her life.
Seven hours later, a baby boy entered the world. Charles cried a bit and never left her side, just like he promised.
The following day, the family was ready to leave the hospital and go back home. Y/N was still very tired, so Charles took all the bags as she carried their baby boy. He was the first to enter the house, luckily his family managed to put some food in the fridge and look after Luna as they were away. They also put some blue balloons around the living room and with a huge "Welcome home" waiting for them. Luna, who was now a big girl, was impatient to meet her baby brother. Charles had to physically drag her away from Y/N, too weak to support her weight, the baby and the dog too. Luckily Jules was still fast asleep and did not wake up due to Luna's soft whimpers. "She's impatient, wonder who she got this from" she joked as she sat down on the sofa "I am exhausted, babe. Would you like to show the baby around?". Charles gulped. Since the birth, he held the baby just once while she was sleeping, and it lasted a couple of minutes before his mother entered the room and he passed baby Jules to her. He did not want to admit it, but he was petrified. Of course, he had held babies before and he even took those classes with Y/N when she was still pregnant, but now in his hands, there was a real baby, not a plastic dummy. "Come on, you have barely held him" she insisted. Charles sighed, put down the bags and exchanged a quick look with Luna as if to say 'please behave'. The dog sat down but could barely hide the excitement of a new person in the house. As Y/N placed the baby in his arms, he swore his heart exploded in his chest. He had never felt a similar emotion. Jules squirmed as he passed in two stronger arms and slowly opened his eyes. "Coucou, mon bébé" Charles whispered "Are you ready to see your forever home?" The baby looked at him, his eyes now fully open. His mother kept insisting he looked just like him, but the driver could spot some similarities with Y/N too, like the tip of the nose and the lips. "Let's go, mummy has to rest. You caught us by surprise. We were not expecting you for the other three weeks. You really could not wait to join us, eh?" he said as he started lulling the baby in his arms. Y/N laid on the sofa admiring the scene with a big smile on her face and Luna followed them with her eyes, still keeping her distance. "So, we are in the living room. Here I found out we were expecting you. It was the best day of my life. We also shared the good news with our families, right here. Everyone was so happy, and they are looking forward to meeting you. You'll be so spoilt; I can feel it already" he chuckled and then moved to the kitchen "This is the kitchen. Your mum says I am not allowed here. She doesn't get my culinary art, but when she had her cravings, she would eat no matter what". "I can hear you" she yelled from the other room. Charles chuckled and pretended he did not listen to her "I promise you I'll try to be a better cook for both of you. I have already mastered my pancakes. Carlos said his receipt is better, but I have my doubts". Father and son moved to the following area of the house "This is the bathroom. This is where we'll clean you up and change your nasty diapers. This is the least exciting part of parenthood. Anyway, this is the shower. Mummy and I had lots of fun here. Can you see how big it is? It can host up to five people. But I would share this place just with mummy she is the best at giving me h-" "Are you seriously saying these things in front of our child?" Y/N yelled again as she started unpacking the bags.
"Yeah you are right, my bad" he excused himself and looked down at his son who was attempting what he believed was a smile "Mummy is a bit bossy sometimes, she likes to scold me. But she is right. She always is. Don't tell her I said that or else I'll never hear the end of it". They moved back to the living room and took the stairs. Luna finally decided to follow them and overtook the two on the ramp. Y/N, left alone, decided to also join them, but kept some distance as she wanted to crave those moments in her memory for the rest of her days. "Welcome to mummy and daddy's room. Here is where you have been conceived. Either here or on the yacht I really cannot say" he turned around and saw Y/N standing on the door frame and her typical 'I am so done' expression. He just chuckled and continued "Here you can come anytime, if you are happy, if you are sad, if you have a nightmare or simply need company". It was now time to go to the most important room, the one for the baby. Charles turned around and this time Y/N decided to follow them more closely with loyal Luna attached to her hip. "This is your room. Do you like it? Yeah, I know, it's not finished, but you came earlier than expected so I did not have time to conclude my work of art. I have always wanted to become an architect, and this was my first project. Mummy says also the last one and next time we'll pay someone to do it. I made a mess and almost knocked down a load-bearing wall. Again, I can't win with her; she's always right. And this is why I love her so much. No matter the situation, she has always been there for me. She knows what to say and she is not scared of calling me out" he took a deep breath as emotions were running high "I have not met anyone as good as her. She made me a father even if I thought I only had fun uncle potential and now I wanted to ask her if I could get another upgrade, maybe the husband position is still available, should I ask?" Y/N almost forgot how to breathe for a moment. Was it really happening? Right after giving birth in their unfinished baby room with a nine-month-old golden retriever running around the house? It all felt like a dream because she would have never imagined her life so beautiful and so complete. Complete even if it wasn't exactly, but at that moment she didn't care if the nursery wasn't ready yet, or if Luna was still undisciplined. She had everything she had always wanted and even more. Charles looked at her with a shy smile on his face and must have read her mind, as he normally did. "I cannot kneel right now, and I don't have a ring yet. I can't promise it will always be perfect, but maybe you can give me a chance?" She wiped away some tears that escaped from her lashes and approached him. With her hands on both sides of his face, she pulled him gently and kissed his lips. "I think it would be cool to marry you if that's what you are trying to ask me". His smile grew bigger and he turned to his son "See, kid? This is how you get the girl you love". 
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readerthatreadsss · 6 months
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Worth The Wait | Steven Grant
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(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)
Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.
Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.
A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!
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"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−
Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.
He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.
Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.
You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.
"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"
You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.
Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.
But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.
He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.
"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.
You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.
"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.
"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.
"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.
"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.
"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"
"Yup."
Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.
You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.
"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.
You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.
When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.
He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.
"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.
"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.
Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."
Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.
"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.
"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.
"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.
Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."
You ignored his call for your attention.
"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.
"Yes I am−"
"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"
You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.
"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."
You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"
Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.
You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.
Steven's face fell. "What?"
"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."
Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.
You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.
Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.
Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.
"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.
"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.
A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.
Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.
It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.
And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;
Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.
Steven.
Steven.
Steven.
"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.
Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.
But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.
After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.
"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."
You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?
You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.
He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."
You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.
"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.
"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.
A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.
"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.
"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.
After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."
"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"
"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."
You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.
"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.
"Did you mean it?"
Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.
You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.
Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.
You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.
"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"
Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"
Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."
Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.
You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"
"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.
You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.
Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.
Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.
Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.
You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.
Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.
You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."
Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.
Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.
Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.
"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.
Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.
You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.
Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.
You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...
Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.
"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.
Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.
Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.
You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.
Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.
You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.
Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.
You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.
"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.
"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"
Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.
Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.
But for now, you really wanted to taste him.
Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.
"Are you sure you want to-"
"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"
Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.
"Please, please do," his response came soon after.
You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.
Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.
"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."
You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.
Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.
After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.
"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.
You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."
Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.
You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"
Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.
"What is it, Steven?"
The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."
You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.
"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.
Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."
You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.
"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.
You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.
Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."
You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.
Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.
"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.
Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.
And so, he eagerly dived into your core.
Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.
The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.
The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.
Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.
"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.
Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.
"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...
"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.
He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.
Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.
"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.
Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.
It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.
Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.
Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.
Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern
You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."
Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.
But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."
Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."
"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."
Steven couldn't even formulate a response.
"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.
Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.
"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.
He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."
You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.
Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.
You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.
"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.
He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.
Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.
You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."
Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.
You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.
"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.
"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.
Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.
"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.
Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.
His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.
Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."
"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.
"What?"
"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.
Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.
"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.
Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.
"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.
Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.
You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.
Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.
Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.
"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.
You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.
You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."
He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.
But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.
You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.
His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.
"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.
"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.
"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.
You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."
"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.
"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.
Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.
You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"
"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.
So I really do hope you enjoyed it.
(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)
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eddie-van-munson · 2 months
Text
The Princess Bride (Farmhand!Eddie Munson x Princess!Reader)
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Warnings: Mentions of Blood (Nothing Graphic), Kissing, One Subtle Allusion to Smut, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn...I think that's it?
Summary: You've been best friends with the stable boy since childhood, but when a suitor comes from across the sea to ask for your hand in marriage, you're forced to finally confront your feelings for him.
A/N: I hope y'all like this! I've had this in my drafts for literally over a year, but people seemed interested when I asked, so here it is! Please, Please, Please leave a comment! It will keep me writing!
Six Years Old
Your earliest memory of him was from the stream. 
His head was a mess of wild brown curls, so thick they nearly covered his eyes, and his pants had been rolled up past his knees. You'd been sitting in the gardens, ignoring your tutor's endless lesson on etiquette, when you spotted him through the clearing. He wobbled as he waded further, jumping forward suddenly as he tried to catch a fish with his hands. You had to hide your giggle with a polite cough, lest you be scolded.
The boy heard you, though. He stared at you as you obediently walked along the bank behind a man with a large nose. 
You made eye contact with him, and as soon as he noticed he'd won your attention, it became a game. Suddenly, he was pulling funny faces and splashing around the creek like a giant. He held your gaze all the while, flashing you a two-front-toothless grin when you finally fell into a fit of giggles. 
You'd had to recite forty lines that afternoon because of him, but it was well worth it to share a laugh as he mucked about in the water.
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Six Years Old
The next time you saw the boy, you'd fallen ill with fever. It'd been a few months since the stream, and you almost didn't recognize him as he plopped a bundle of healing herbs down on your bedside table. 
"You don't look like a Princess." He crossed his arms before him as he eyed you suspiciously. "You're awfully pale…And you're not even wearing a crown or a dress or anything." 
"I'm sick, you knob." You frowned, "No one wears a crown to bed." 
He hummed, sticking up his nose. "I thought Princesses had to be grown-ups." 
"I'll be queen when I'm a grown up." You announced, bossily. "And you'll have to do everything I say, or I'll send you to jail." 
He scoffed, "Not if I'm the King! The Queen has to do what the King says!" 
You rolled your eyes, "Well, you can't be King." 
"Yes, I can! Haven't you ever read King Arthur?" He pointed, brows raising. "I just have to find an enchanted sword and pull it out of a stone. Then I'll be the King, and I'll send you to jail." 
Your cheeks went pink as you argued, "King Arthur isn't even real!" 
"Yes, he is! And I'll be just like him! King Edward the First!" You giggled, and the boy flipped around from where he'd started strutting around the room, proudly. "What?"
"Edward is a funny name." 
As wildly offended as the boy was by this comment, he had to hide the smile that crept to his face at the sound of your hoarse laughter. "It is not!" 
"Yes, it is! Who's ever heard of a King called Ed? King Eddie!" You held your stomach, falling into another fit of giggles. 
He turned from you indignantly, "Fine! Stay here all alone with your smelly herbs, then! I don't need any silly ole' princess!" 
"No!" You croaked, sitting up in bed. "Don't go. It's so boring up here. I can hardly stand it." 
He sighed, putting a hand on his hip, and thought for a moment. "Only because you'll have me beheaded if I don't." 
***********
Ten Years Old 
"Oh goodness…You've gotten mud on your dress!" 
Your mother fussed over the little blue dress you were wearing, kneeling beside you to get a better look at the damage. Splotches of brown had been smeared over your front. Even your hair had a few streaks of dirt. 
"I got in a mud fight with Eddie." You informed her, as if the mess was perfectly justified by this. 
She chuckled, "I see. It looks like he may have won this time, hm?" She gave your cheek a gentle pinch, making your nose scrunch. 
"No, he didn't!" You turned, pointing at your friend. He dragged his feet behind you, looking defeated. 
Your mother burst into pretty laughter at the sight of him, resting a hand on her stomach. "Oh lamb…come here." 
The poor boy was absolutely caked in dirt. Not an inch of him was left unscathed. His wild curls were sopping with heavy mud, and you couldn't even see the embarrassed flush on his pouty face. He looked like he'd rolled around in the pig pen.  
The queen tutted affectionately, smirking. "Oh what am I going to do with you two?" 
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Thirteen Years Old
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Tears welled in your eyes as you sat in the windowsill in your room, watching Eddie as he walked quietly by himself in the distant fields, below. "I don't like seeing him cry." 
"He'll be alright, love." Your mother cooed, taking a seat beside you. "I know it's hard to see him in pain, but the poor dear's lost his mother. It might take some time for him to feel like himself again." 
You sniffled, holding your knees. The words trembled when you spoke again.  "He'll be sent away, won't he? He won't be allowed to stay at the palace anymore." 
The Queen frowned, stroking your hair. "Why do you say that?" 
"His mother worked in the laundry. That's why he's lived here so long. Without her, he-" You trailed off, voice cracking as you gave a soft sob. 
"Oh, silly girl." She chuckled softly as she dried your tears. "You think we'd throw Eddie out all on his own?" 
Your brow furrowed, confused. 
"Eddie's a strong boy, sweetheart. He works very hard in the stables and takes good care of the horses. He holds his own…and even if he didn't, he's family. We'd never send him away." 
Your whole demeanor relaxed, "You really mean it?" 
Your mother smiled, "Of course." 
Still, your eyes didn't leave him. You sighed, "He's so sad...He's sad and I don't know how to fix it. 
"I wish we could fix it for him, darling, but that's not how these things work. You can't take away that hurt. You just have to let him feel it." She straightened her dress as she stood, giving your hand a loving squeeze. "But that doesn't mean he couldn't use a friend." 
***********
Fourteen Years Old 
"I didn't know Princesses were allowed to climb trees." Eddie's grin was stained sweet and red, his legs crossed over a branch lazily as you plucked another strawberry from the bushel you'd collected that morning. 
Your etiquette teachers would be appalled if they could see you now, wearing little more than a chemise in the summer heat as you straddled a thick tree branch. Your feet were bare and dirty where they hung in the breeze. You smirked, "They are if nobody sees them." 
Eddie laughed, and it was such a clear sweet sound that you wished you could keep it tucked inside a locket. You sighed, longing to freeze time and keep things just the way they were forever.
You relaxed against a branch, "I've got my whole life to do what royalty is supposed to do. I've got to do fun things while I can still get away with it."
Eddie chuckled, "Maybe I'm a bad influence on you, after all.
You frowned, "Did someone say that to you?" 
He shrugged, unbothered. "The maids whisper it. They say a young lady shouldn't be left alone with a young man." He put on his best 'prim' voice, making you giggle. "I'm a threat to your innocence!" 
You held your stomach, laughing. "A threat to my innocence? That's horrible!" 
He grinned, "You're telling me!" 
The breeze rustled the leaves in the tree as you lounged, breathing in the sweet summer air. 
Eddie had strawberry juice on his lips. For the first time, the tiny, ant-sized thought of kissing it away crawled into your brain. You squished the ant. 
A bad influence, indeed. 
***********
Fifteen Years Old 
"Tag!" 
Eddie sprang up from the corner of the barn, sprinting after you as you ran off into the fields. 
You lost him quickly, cutting down and into the gardens. The morning dew was cool as the grass tickled your bare feet, and you nearly slipped as you ran over the stone path. A gloved hand grabbed your elbow to steady you. You turned to see a member of the palace guard; his brows furrowed. "There you are, Princess. Your Mother-" 
It all happened so quickly. Eddie ran through the bushes, a playful grin tugging his lips, and grabbed you from behind, "I've got you!" He yelled, drowning out your giggles. 
Before you realized what was happening, the guard ripped you from his hold, tossing you aside. Eddie was thrown onto the stone path, his temple hitting hard against the tile. Distantly, he heard you shriek. His vision was fuzzy and starry when he felt the weight of the guard pin him down, a drawn sword shoved against his throat. "You shall not touch her!”
"Stop! Stop it!' You grabbed the guard's arm, But he threw you back down. Eddie choked your name. 
"Stay back!" The guard barked at you, pressing harder against the blade. Eddie could feel blood trickling from his head. He was trembling, eyes closed tight. Still, the guard yelled in his face, “Who are you? Hands by your side!” 
"He's my friend!" You screamed hoarsely.
"Get off of him this instant!"
You'd never been so happy to hear your mother's voice in your life. The guard dropped his sword at the sight of her rushing towards him. Immediately, his face drained pale as a ghost. "Y-Your majesty!" 
"Get off of the boy, for god sakes, he's a child! Get off!" The man clambered off of Eddie as your mother knelt beside him, fussing over him dotingly, "Oh sweetheart, your head…You're shaking like a leaf…" 
He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. The queen turned to the guard as you pitifully crawled over to your friend, pushing his curls back off of his forehead. "I'm sorry I'm sorry-" 
The guard searched for an explanation, "Your majesty, I thought the boy was-" 
"I know what you thought!" She snapped, sternly. She was well aware of the whispers surrounding yours and Eddie's friendship. Your mother's lips were pursed, cheeks red. You'd never seen her like that before in your life. "It gave you no right to hold a weapon to that child's throat!" 
"Your highness, I-" 
Your mother ignored the guard, turning back to you. "Help me get him inside." You nodded obediently as she squeezed Eddie's shaking hand, "I'll send for a doctor to check your head, darling."  
Eddie nodded, dizzily. 
You sat with him later that night when the doctor had gone and his head had cleared. The mark on his forehead would scar, no doubt, but it had been well tended, and any concussion he suffered was minor. This knowledge, of course, did nothing to soothe his nasty headache. 
"You're not a very good sport, you know." He groaned as you took his hand, smirking. "Siccing the palace guards on me just because I tagged you?" He tutted, "What a sore loser." 
***********
Sixteen Years Old 
"You have to tell!" You ran after Eddie as he hauled a sack of oats through the gardens to the stable. 
He ignored you, holding his nose high. "No, I don't. I don't have to tell you everything just because you're a princess."
You crossed your arms, "You have to tell me because I'm your best friend, you knob. Best friends don't keep secrets!" 
"Sure, they do. You mean to tell me you've never kept a secret from me?" 
You groaned, "That's different! You have to tell me if you fancy someone!" 
Eddie sighed, turning to face you, and dropped the sack of oats. "Why do you want to know so bad?" 
You blushed, stammering. "I…I want to help you confess your love!" 
Eddie laughed, "What a lie! You just want to tease me!" 
"Oh, Come on!" You pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders. If you tell me who it is, I'll tell you a secret, too."
"Tempting." He sighed, picking up the sack again and throwing it over his shoulder. "But no." 
***********
Eighteen Years Old
"You've got to keep it down…"
You scoffed, rolling your eyes as he guided you towards the stables. "Why?" 
He laughed, "If I told you why, then it wouldn't be a surprise." 
He smirked when you groaned, reaching for the latch on the barn door. “You know I don't like surpris-..." 
 You went silent as he led you inside slowly, revealing a soft colored mare, and below her, her newborn foal.
"Oh!" You gasped, a smile creeping to your face. You stepped forward, wanting to approach the baby, but Eddie took your arm, gently pulling you back.
"You've got to be careful...the mare's protective of her. I nearly got kicked in the teeth this morning." He chuckled, enjoying the amazement in your eyes as you watched the mother and baby interact. 
"She's beautiful." You mumbled, grinning. 
Eddie couldn't help but smile, "She's strong too..." He paused, breath fanning your neck as he spoke just loud enough for you to hear. "She'll make a good riding horse, one day." 
You met his brown eyed gaze, biting your lip shyly as he nudged your arm with his elbow. 
You could feel him admiring you. 
You liked it.
***********
Nineteen Years Old
"Oh, Eddie. He was horrible…You wouldn't have been able to stop laughing!" 
Eddie clutched his stomach, laying back against the grass as he toyed with a wildflower. "That's because it's funny!" 
Your fingers fumbled with the ends of your hair, untangling the intricate hairstyle it's been tied up in. "It's not so funny when it's you!" 
Eddie grinned, looking starry eyed, "It really just fell off of his head?" 
"During dinner!" You exclaimed. Eddie fell into another fit of laughter. "Right onto his plate in front of everyone!" 
Your friend sighed, wiping his happy tears as he sat up to gather a handful of clovers. "I can't believe he wore an honest to God wig. The poor lamb." 
You laughed at his faux sympathy, watching his hands as he wove together stems. 
He looked so different from the little boy you'd befriended as a child. His wild curls had grown just past his shoulders now, his bangs often covering the scar on his temple. His arms and back were beautiful, muscles sloping gently beneath his skin, and while he was a hint more bronze than he had been as a boy, his freckles remained. His nose and his dimples had never changed in the slightest, and those big brown eyes reassured you that no matter how much Eddie had grown up, he'd always be that silly little boy, deep down. He'd always be your Eddie. 
"But what's the verdict?" He chuckled, "You never said. Is he the one?" 
You groaned, "You're mocking my pain." 
"I am not!" He fought a smirk. "I didn't want to assume. Maybe he was a wonderful conversationalist." 
You giggled, yawning. "I wouldn't know. I didn't catch a word he said after his hair went into his soup. 
Eddie gave you a fond smile, laying on his elbow beside you, "Here you are, princess. A crown." 
Your heart felt oddly achey as he draped a handmade crown of wildflowers over your head. You smiled, affection in your eyes. 
Your throat was tight when you spoke, "You're better than any prince, Eddie Munson." 
His cheeks flushed faintly. "Well, I don't know about that…" He tapped your nose playfully. "Most princes don't smell like a barn." 
***********
Twenty Years Old 
"Eddie, darling!" Your mother had called to him as he cut through the gardens back to the stable. His brows raised when he turned to find the Queen accompanied by you and the King. A man Eddie had never seen before held your arm, an unreadable expression on your face. Eddie bristled. 
"Your Majesties." Eddie nodded his head politely as the group approached, his muscles stiff with wariness. 
Your father gave a proud smile, gesturing to the stranger on your arm. "Son, let us Introduce you to Prince Carver the Fourth: Heir to the Throne of Hawkins."  
"An honor to meet you, Your Highness." Again, Eddie bowed his head. He'd never seen someone that looked so stiff. The two of you would have fun joking about it, later. 
Prince Carver was older than you, and by the looks of him, he'd never been outside a day in his life. Every last one of his blonde hairs had been tediously placed, as if he'd been sculpted out of clay, and his boots were perfectly polished black leather. The blonde eyed Eddie with disdain, crinkling his nose at the sight of his work clothes. "Yes, I'm sure." 
Eddie fought an eye roll. Another suitor, he assumed. The Royals were only being polite by offering him a tour, seeing as he'd travelled so far only to be rejected.
The Queen stepped towards him, glancing at the prince. "Eddie has become a very dear friend to our daughter, Prince Carver. Perhaps he would make a nice addition to your staff. He's served us so well in our stables." 
Confusion was visible in Eddie's face. An addition to his staff? What was going on? He looked to you for help, but your eyes were cast down into the grass. 
Prince Carver cleared his throat, "Unfortunately, we aren't lacking any farmhands at the moment, but you need not worry about the princess, your highness. She'll find much companionship in Hawkins, once we are wed."
Eddie felt his blood go cold. Absolutely frigid. 
Once we are wed. Once we are wed. Once we are wed.
His mouth opened to say something, but he couldn't find a single word. He was desperate to look you in the eyes, but his gaze was only met by a small shimmer on your left hand. An engagement ring. 
"Please excuse me, Your Majesties." 
****
Eddie hadn't cried like this since his mother died. 
He hadn't felt the blow of such terrible loss since he'd been orphaned. 
He sat alone in the barn on a stool, tears rolling down his cheeks as he gently stroked his fingers through the mane of the foal he'd surprised you with two years ago.
It was a pretty horse…full grown now and patterned with soft brown spots across her back. You'd named her "Sweetheart" after hearing Eddie call her that. 
Come're, Sweetheart. 
Here you go, Sweetheart. 
Good job, Sweetheart…That's it. 
Pain shot through his chest at the realization that the horse would probably get to go with you to your new home. 
But not Eddie. Eddie would be left behind. 
He clenched his jaw, eyes burning as he buried his fists in his curls and tugged. He was angry. He couldn't help but feel angry. It wasn't fair. His whole heart was being shipped off to God knows where, and there wasn't a word he could say about it. 
It wasn't your fault. You were a princess. Your hand in marriage was a pawn in a game of political chess. It had been since the beginning. Both of you knew this. You always had. So why weren't the two of you happy that this inevitable union was one that would lead the country to thrive? 
Eddie took a deep breath, relaxing his hands from his hair and rubbing tears from his face. 
You'd daydreamed with Eddie before. Lots of times. It was always the same thing.
I wish we could just run off and live in the woods, Eds. Just you and me. We could build a little cottage beside a stream. That way, we could swim in the summertime. You could finally teach me to fish, too. 
Is that what he'd been expecting? Had he hoped, deep down, that he'd somehow end up in that cottage after all, spending summer days with you by a stream? 
Maybe. Or maybe he'd just wanted you. 
He'd dreamt up hundreds of different futures for himself. There were countless paths he'd wandered down curiously in his head, over the years. Some were outlandish and fantastic…some were more modest. As much as they varied from day to day, he was realizing now that his hopes for the future had always held something in common. 
He'd always had you. 
****
The next week seemed never ending. 
Eddie didn't see you once. You were avoiding him. That much was obvious. 
Before the proposal, you made a habit of visiting Sweetheart at least once every day. You liked to brush her as you talked with Eddie, twisting braids into her coarse hair. She was spoiled rotten, no doubt, but that didn't leave the horse feeling any less deprived of attention with the sudden loss of your quality time. She'd gotten fussy over the week, whinnying and pacing in her stall. She'd even started kicking again, when she was feeling particularly agitated. 
Still, you made no appearance at the stable. Eddie was surprised, however, to look over the gate one evening to find Prince Carver walking swiftly through the grass. 
"Your highness." Eddie nodded, spotting the green apple in the man's hand. "Have you come to feed the horses?" 
"Certainly not." Carver scoffed, "I've come on behalf of the Princess. I find it inappropriate for her, as a lady, to be spending time in the stables. 
 I've reassured her that I'll take it upon myself to fulfill any required visits with Sugarplum." 
Eddie frowned, " Forgive me Your Highness, but I think you might be thinking of Sweetheart." 
The man scoffed, slapping the apple down in Eddie's hand before storming off.
 "Whatever the damned thing's name is." 
Eddie swallowed hard, calling after him. "Would you like me to show you how to feed her, Prince Carver?" 
The man laughed cruelly, "Heavens no. That's your job, is it not?" 
**********
"What on earth are you-! Edward Munson!" You gasped, immediately dipping over the stone ledge of your window to reach for him. He laughed, flashing you a boyish grin as he took your hand, pulling himself up and over the sill. 
Christ, you'll crack your skull one day!" You muttered, the both of you giving way to the effort and falling to the floor with a thump. 
"For the present my skull remains intact." He reassured, giving a faux bow of his head. 
You snorted, plucking dead leaves and briars from his thick dark curls. "What on earth put it in your head to climb all the way-" 
Eddie caught your hand, his eyes landing on your engagement ring. His thumb brushed over its stone as your heart sank into your belly. 
"Oh." 
Eddie studied the ring for a moment, taking in its details. There was a long silence. Finally, you spoke. 
"It's a dreadfully heavy thing." You pulled it off, placing it on your bedside table. "It catches on my gown, anyways."
A knowing smile crept to Eddie's lips. He sat in the silence for a moment before reaching into his pocket. 
A small wooden ring was produced, painted delicately along the band with tiny white flowers. He slipped it onto your marriage finger. "How's that one?"
You were breathless. "It..it's..." 
It was perfect. It was the most beautiful ring you'd ever seen, though you couldn't find the words to say so. 
Eddie's thumb brushes over the flowers, "I carved that for you when we were sixteen."
Tears welled in your eyes.
"I had it in my mind to propose to you then. The gardener stopped me when he discovered my plan." He gave a sad chuckle. A comfortable silence hung between you. Eddie took your hand, humming. "Would you have said yes?" 
"Eddie..." A tear rolled down your cheek, only to be brushed away carefully by his ever-gentle hand. You gave a sad laugh, your thumb stroking over his wrist. "You're not being fair." 
"Maybe not." He whispered, "But any man should be damned if he saw you and didn't want to keep you."
"It's cruel." Your voice wavered with emotion. "You know I've loved you since we were children...nothing can be done about it, Eddie."
"Nothing can be done about it?" Eddie gave a humorless laugh, "You're going to be Queen. Everything can be done about it." 
"What would you have me do?" Your brow furrowed. "Tell my father to end our alliance with Hawkins?"
"Yes! Hawkins only seeks to use us for our resources. Forest Hills is better off without their partnership." 
You swallowed thickly. The cicadas sang their response from the Glenside below. Again, Eddie wiped your tears. 
"Love is not something to be kept only for common folk. Your father will understand that. So will your kingdom." 
Something in you crumbled under his gaze. You drew closer, letting him envelope you in his arms. He held you for a long time, stroking your back, sweetly. 
"I spoke to your mother." He cooed, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. Your head tilted back; eyes wide as you stared up at him. 
"Did you?" 
"Yes." His eyes were so warm and brown. You had admired them many times before this, but never quite so closely before. "I knew I was to ask for your hand...I couldn’t very well ask for your father's blessing, so I felt your mother's would be just as valuable. To us, at least."
You smiled, your forehead resting against his. "What did she say?" 
Eddie chuckled at the memory, "She pinched my cheek red. I wish you could've seen it. She cried and held my hand...told me she'd always known I would ask her one day." 
You gave a watery laugh, your fingers lacing tightly with his.
"She said she didn’t know if it was possible for me to make you mine, but that nothing would make her happier." 
There was a long silence. Eddie cradled your face, "Do you feel the same, little Princess?" Your pretty eyes fluttered at his whisper. "Do you love me the way I love you?" 
"How could you even ask?" 
Eddie chuckled, "Because I've done nothing but profess my feelings for you tonight, and now I'd like to hear you do the same." 
You chuckled, your smile fading with thought. 
"I knew...I knew I loved you about five summers ago." Eddie smiled fondly, his cheeks going pink. "We practically lived outside then...the world seemed so bright and warm and I didn't realize then that it was all because of you." You reached up, carding her fingers through his messy hair.  "The sun turned your curls golden on the edges-" 
Before you could finish your sentence, he was kissing you. He was soft and warm and strong, holding you close as you melted for one another. Eddie laughed, breathless, when you parted. "I'm afraid I win, then. I've loved you far longer than that." 
You laughed brightly as he kissed you again, working his way down your jaw to the column of your throat. "When?" You breathed, whimpering as he nipped at the crook of your neck. 
"It's hard to say." He moaned softly as you coaxed him back up to your lips, your hands lacing in his hair. "All I know is that I've never loved you more than I do right now." 
Another tear rolled down his love's cheek. He kissed it away. 
"But why these tears, now? Am I really that terrible?" 
You gave a watery laugh. "No. Not at all I...I just..." You gave a little sob. "I want to marry you. I want to be your bride and keep you always, but I can't-" 
"Marry me, then. Right now." 
You frowned, tucking a strand of his curls behind his ear. "What?" 
Eddie thumbed your ring as he caught your hand. "Do we not have a ring? A gown?" He swallows thickly, eyes darting between your night clothes and the mattress beside you.  "A marriage bed?" 
Slowly, You stood, guiding Eddie to stand before you. "We...we have to make a vow" 
"What kind of vow? I've never been to a wedding." 
You stared up at him, eyes brimming with love. "S-Something about.... For richer and for poorer. Through sickness and in health. From each sun to each moon." 
"May I write my own?" 
A tear rolled down your cheek as you nodded. 
He looked down at your hands, so soft and perfect in his rough ones. "I wish I could tell you that as my wife, you will want for nothing. I wish I could make you flowery promises about how you won't have a care in the world...but since I can't make you those promises, I'll make you the ones I can." 
He knelt before you, gazing up into your eyes. 
"I promise to you that no matter how hot the summer's day, I'll always climb to the highest branches to find you perfect, sun-spotted apples."
You giggled, a grin splitting your cheeks.
"I promise to let you spoil your horse as badly as you wish. Never again will I deprive her of a single sugar cube." 
Another giggle. Eddie kissed your knuckles.
"I promise to kiss you...often and abundantly...until you can't bear to kiss me even once more."
Eddie grinned at your blush. 
"I can't build you castles, but I promise you a home. I promise you food to eat and sturdy walls to keep you warm. I promise you children to nurse and adore." 
Eddie paused, heart fluttering.
"And I promise you love. The same love for you that I've held long since before I even knew what I was feeling." 
His voice wavers. 
"I promise that at the end of our lives, I will still feel it." 
Eddie clasped your hand with his, "So, Princess. If you'll have me...then with this ring, I thee wed." 
You repeated his words, falling to your knees to embrace him. Eddie caught you in his arms as he stood, peppering kisses to your nose, then your cheeks, and finally, your lips. 
His thumb brushed your new ring, gently. "I can't tell you how it feels to see you wearing it." He gave a watery laugh. "It's been sitting on my nightstand for four years now." 
"I wish I could wear it always..." 
"Why can't you?" He pulled back to meet your eyes.
Your expression sunk, "I'm afraid I'm still scheduled to be wed tomorrow morning." 
"Oh, don't be ridiculous." He hummed. "You think I'd allow another man to marry my wife?"
"Eddie..." He scooped you up, laying you gently upon your mattress before sitting beside you. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid tomorrow." 
He chuckled as you combed through his curls with your fingers. "When have I ever been known to do stupid things?" 
"I mean it. You remember what happened the last time someone thought you were a threat to my innocence. It would kill me to see you hurt." Your fingertips grazed the scar on his temple, stiffening at the memory of his head hitting stone. 
There was a long silence as Eddie gazed at the ring. He kissed each of your fingertips slowly. "Do you trust me?" 
"More than anything." 
Eddie smiled at this, holding your hand to his heart, "Then don't worry." 
You gave a hesitant smile. Eddie cradled your body against his, gently combing through your hair. 
"We must leave tonight." He whispered. "Disappear into the woods. If we rode as far as we could on Sweetheart, it would be nearly impossible for them to find us by the time morning came. It would be difficult, but we'd be free." 
Immediately, you tensed. "Eddie, no. He could have you killed if they found us." 
"Then you'd better hold me awfully tight for as long as you can, my love." 
**********
You woke to the sound of water rushing beside you. You laid upon a bed of moss; a thick blanket tucked around you. You felt shade cover you as a figure knelt as your side. A hand on your head, pushing your bangs back lovingly. You stretched and groaned in response, not wishing to leave behind the warmth of your blanket, and kept your eyes closed.
"What a shame." Eddie cooed with a smirk, seeing right through your fib. "My little wife is simply too weak and exhausted to carry on. I suppose I must leave her behind..."
Your eyes flew open, taking his bait. "Leave her behind!?"
Eddie laughed brightly, pulling you into a smiley kiss. You were beginning to think nothing in the world felt better than kissing him.
Eddie's nose nudged against yours as he hummed passively. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"
Your jaw dropped, "I do not, Eddie Munson."
He giggled, "You most certainly do, Mrs. Munson. We had a whole conversation whilst you slept."
"What about, pray tell?"
Eddie laid on his back beside her, letting her rest against his chest as he tucked his arms behind his head. "How handsome I am."
You smirked, rolling your eyes as you kissed him. The sun was warm and the cool earth beneath you felt like silk beneath your skin.
"I feel like I could do anything I wanted out here. No one could stop me."
"You could." Eddie smirked with another peck. "But I'm afraid we must keep traveling, my love. We still have a long way to go."
"How far are we going?
He tucked hair behind your ear, "So far they'll never find you. So far that it will be impossible for them to take you from me."
You nodded, curling in against him.
"And once we have finally traveled far enough..." Eddie grinned down at you. "I shall build you our cottage by the stream." 
***********
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lethalchiralium · 1 year
Text
Almost | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader
a/n: you guys literally persuade me so easily it’s hilarious. i’ve had this in my drafts since december LMAOOOOOOOO
warnings: doctor’s appointments, ultrasound of baby three! :) simon is NERVOUS, he is literally imploding
summary: Just a doctor’s appointment to find out baby three’s gender.
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“It’s not that big of a deal, Simon, sit down.”
Your voice registered in his ears but he didn’t listen, he paced in the small examination room after he had helped you onto the table…seat…thing. The medical face mask felt itchy on his face, the lights were too bright, he didn’t like having his hair not covered - he wanted to leave. Hospitals brought up a lot of trauma from previous long hospital stays after Roba, staying a few weeks with Tommy after he had overdosed and almost killed himself - and the three months Winnie was in the NICU.
To say he was uncomfortable would be an understatement.
Because he was more in his head than ever before, worrying about you non-stop since you had told him you thought you were pregnant seven weeks ago. He felt his repressed shame from missing the pregnancies of his first two daughters, now he had a third child to worry about. He felt helpless - like he didn’t know how to do this; which he didn’t really. He never did doctor appointments in the civilian world, he avoided hospitals like the plague, and he definitely did not have experience with having a pregnant wife. He was in emergency mode at all times.
You, on the other hand, were graceful. Having to go through an entire pregnancy by yourself without any support from your spouse was one of the most difficult things you have ever done - but now you had Simon. Even if he was having a mental battle with himself, knowing that he knew and that he was supporting you meant everything.
You stretched out your right hand, putting it right in his line of sight. He slowed to a stop, eyes staring at your hand. You wiggled your fingers, to which he gently took your hand in his own. His eyes met yours.
You gave him a smile. “Simon, I need you to take a breath.”
The rugged man in a black jacket sort of huffed before begrudgingly sitting in the chair beside you. You squeezed his hand and he immediately squeezed back.
“Don’t want to be here.” He immediately regretted his word choice after he spoke, his eyes looking to yours while you gazed at the white ceiling.
“I know.” You answered, hand squeezing his again. “I’ve got a lot of trauma from hospitals too.”
That really surprised him. “Really?”
“You remember Dave.” Simon nodded. “He had brain cancer when he was 12. I was 18, driving him to and from doctor’s appointments and staying with him at the Children’s Hospital because our parents had to work overtime to keep up with the bills.” Your free hand settled on your stomach. “Jake was off in the Navy by that point, Tommy was six and was staying with my grandma. Mom and Dad were always there every second they could since they were working, but it was mostly me. Slept on a pull out bed for months until he got to come home.” You kept staring at the ceiling, the image of your brother on a hospital bed, hooked up to endless wires was an image that was hard to scrub away.
“Your brother’s okay now, right?” He squeezed your hand, you looked to your husband then. He looked a lot more focused than he was earlier, his breathing a lot less rapid. You simply nodded in response. “Good. I like Dave.”
“I know.” You commented as there was a knock on the door, to which you answered, “Come in!”
In stepped your doctor, a woman with tight coils of curls tucked back into a ponytail. She wore pink scrubs with a purple stethoscope. You could tell she was smiling at you from behind the mask, “Hello, Mrs. Riley! It’s good to see you again.” She waved to you, before nodding at Simon. “I assume you’re Mr. Riley?”
“Yes.” He answered, she gave him a smile too before turning and gathering the equipment.
“How is Winnie and Melody?” She asked while you pulled up your shirt.
“Perfect as always.” You squeezed Simon’s hand then. “Mellie’s getting too big for me to carry, and she’s walking now.”
“Walking already? She’ll be outrunning Winnie before you know it. Gel’s cold, sorry.” The doctor commented before putting the gel on, making you take in a soft gasp. Simon squeezed your hand then, you looked to him and gave him a reassuring smile, mouthing, I’m okay.
“Alright, off the bat...” She noted, moving the little wand around after she had placed it on your stomach. “Want to know the sex or wait like last time?”
Your gaze moved from Simon to the screen then back to him, watching at his eyes settled on you, not on the screen. “Up to you.”
Simon’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, you’re the one growing a baby here. You choose.”
You gave him a sharp glare then. “Simon, pick now or I will make you re-gutter my house.”
“Doesn’t scare me. You choose.”
“Simon, I will only say it once more.” Your hand moved to grip his chin, nails digging into his skin a little. “You put the baby in there. Choose. Now.”
He sighed, knowing that you wouldn’t budge. He looked around you to the doctor. “Yes.”
She nodded and looked back to the screen, moving the little wand as you and Simon watched it too. He took your hand again, squeezing it before kissing the side of your cheek through his mask.
“Well, let’s see - ten fingers,” She hummed a little as you held your breath. “Ten toes…” She gasped a little before looking to the both of you, moving the wand back before pointing to its heart. “That is your baby boy’s heart, beating nice and strong, mama.”
“A boy.” You beamed, a smile wide on your face. “Simon, a boy.”
Simon put your hand against his mouth, you could feel him kiss your hand again through the mask. His eyes had softened, watching the screen as the little heart beat - something in his chest squeezed his own heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished to never forget this feeling. The light tingling in his chest, the heat that felt like sunshine, and the way one little picture took his breath away.
“Any names yet?” The doctor broke the small silence, looking to you but you had shook your head.
“He gets to be home the whole pregnancy, so he gets to name him.” You settled your other hand on the top of your stomach, absentmindedly rubbing it. “Felt bad he didn’t get to name Mellie.”
“Mellie? That’s such a cute nickname.” The doctor smiled, you nodded.
You looked at your husband, seeing how tears had collected in his eyes. You squeezed his hand, turning back to your doctor. “Can we two pictures?”
The doctor nodded, “I’ll be right back with them.”
Simon put that picture in the breast pocket of his uniform the next day. He definitely did not show Price as soon as he walked through the door. He definitely did not show Gaz next, who bear hugged his friend, saying, “My godbaby!”
Soap definitely did not start screaming, “You’re gonnae send Mini Ghost aftae me!”
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part two may or may not make a lot of you cry and hate me lollolololol
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