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crimxonwrites · 1 year

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Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Chapter 3 ❝Lord of the Tides❞

☽➛ Summary: Nothing satietes Maehrys Velaryon's hunger as well as revenge. Growing up at the Red Keep as the bastard of Rhaenyra Targaryen did not come trouble-free. Her childhood consisted of bitter words and repulsive looks from nearly everybody in the castle. As she grew older, Maehrys grew meaner. Once the Velaryons return to King's Landing to defend Luke's claim as Lord of Driftmark, Maehrys decides that it is time for the people who hurt her in the past to pay.

☽➛ Warnings: heavy mentions of self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!

☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC (slowburn enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)

☽➛ Word count: 2.6k

!!DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language! feel free to correct me at any time!

Chapter 2 Masterlist

The throne room remained as massive as Maehrys remembered.

The Iron Throne, on the other hand, seemed smaller, the thousand swords have lost their magic over time; their edges became softer, less fearsome, but the man that was standing on it made Maehrys feel physically sick. Otto Hightower, the King’s Hand was sitting on the edge of the throne, with a slight complacent expression on his face. He had no right to sit on the throne.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark.” Otto spoke and Maehrys clenched her jaw. Her grandfather should’ve been on that throne, not the father of Alicent. The princess’ gaze shifted on the Queen who was standing beside her three children: Aegon, Aemond and Helaena, on the right side of the throne, while Maehrys, Rhaenyra, her brothers and Daemon were located on the left side of the throne. The princess could not recall when was the last time she was in a room full of people who despised her and her family. “As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.” Otto added as Aemond’s gaze caught Maehrys’ attention. Her half-uncle seemed proud that his grandfather was standing on the throne and was staring at the princess with a triumphant expression on his face. “The crown will now hear the petitions.” Luke began to tug at the princess’ sleeve, singling that he wishes to hold her hand. Maehrys shook her head and refused to. She did not wish for her little brother to appear weak in that moment. “Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.” Otto called.

Maehrys’ great uncle stepped forward before throwing Luke a bitter look.

“My Queen.” Vaemond greeted Alicent, who seemed more worried than Rhaenyra. “My Lord Hand.” Maehrys yearned for the formalities to cease, and for Vaemond to start complaining already. “The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name.” Lord Vaemond’s approach was tiring. Maehrys did not wish for a history lesson. “I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’ closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.” Maehrys wanted to scream as the tension rose higher.

“As it does in my son’s, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon.” Rhaenyra spoke. “If you care so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir.” She added, finally looking at Lord Vaemond. “No, you only speak for yourself and your own ambition.” The energy in the throne chamber made Maehrys feel as if she was going to suffocate.

“You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra.” Alicent interrupted. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.” She added as Vaemond’s body turned to face Maehrys’ family.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn’t recognize it.” Ser Vaemond spoke and Maehrys could only hope he would do as he said. “This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” His eyes drifted towards Luke, who seemed terrified. “My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all.” Vaemond continued as he turned to face Otto again. Maehrys could feel Aemond’s gaze on her, burning through her, desiring to destroy her and her family once and for all. She will not allow him that satisfaction. “I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor… the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.” Vaemond, at last, finished his speech.

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond. Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.” Otto spoke.

Maehrys’ glance follows Rhaenyra’s body as she leaves her family’s side and steps in front of the Iron Throne. “If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago, in this very-“ Rhaenyra’s speech was interrupted by the sound of the massive doors of the throne room opening.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the first of his name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the first Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the Realm.”

The sound of the King’s cane thumping on the floor echoed through the chamber, as everyone, including Maehrys watched her grandfather approach the Iron Throne. She has not seen him in almost a decade and struggled to recognize the old man. The princess bowed, as did everyone else. The King was wearing a golden mask on the right side of his face and Maehrys wondered what had happened. She knew he fell ill, and assumed that he could not even talk, since Maehrys was not allowed to see him. But there he was, slowly limping, crown looking heavy on his head. King Viserys looked at Rhaenyra, and Maehrys caught a glance of his face. He looked sick, as if death was trying to catch him off guard. He stopped walking as he reached the throne’s stairs.

“I will sit on the throne today.” He whispered to Otto.

“Your Grace.” Otto nodded and joined his family.

King Viserys was struggling to walk up the stairs and a knight came to his aid. “I will be fine.” His voice sounded ill. All Maehrys could do was watch in awe as he was making his way up to the throne. The sound of the crown’s metal falling on the ground startled the Princess, and she raised herself on her tiptoes, attempting to observe what had happened. Daemon hurried to help him. “I said I’m fine.” The king’s hoarse voice echoed through the room. Maehrys wondered if it was his stubbornness keeping him alive.

“Come on.” Daemon helped him sit on the throne and placed the crown back on his head.

Maehrys was pleased to find Alicent and Otto’s worried faces staring at the King.

“I must… admit my confusion.” The King spoke and Rhaenyra walked back by Maehrys’ side. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’ wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.” Everyone turned to look at Maehrys’ grandmother.

“Indeed, your Grace.” Princess Rhaenys stepped in front of the throne. “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son… Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’ granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.” Maehrys was delighted that her brother had her grandmother’s support. She was starting to doubt.

“Well… the matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.” The King announced and Maehrys wished to sigh in relief, but she could not.

A knot was settling in her stomach as she watched Ser Vaemond’s facial expressions change from confusion to resentment. “You break law, and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir.” Ser Vaemond began to walk towards the throne. “Yet you dare tell me… who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon.” His voice was glazed with hatred and disgust. “No. I will not allow it.”

“Allow it?” The King questioned. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

Ser Vaemond suddenly turned towards Luke and Maehrys. “That is no true Velaryon,” he pointed his finger at them. “And certainly not nephew of mine.” Maehrys instinctively placed her hand over her gown pocket who offered her easy access to the garter that was holding her dagger.

“Go to your chambers. You have said enough.” Rhaenyra protectively positioned herself in front of Luke.

“Lucerys is my trueborn grandson. And you… are no more than the second son of Driftmark.” The King spoke again, with much more ease this time.

“You may run your house as you see fit but you will not decide the future of mine.” Vaemond turned to face the King. “My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And Gods be damned…” He turned towards Luke, again and spoke on a threatening tone. “I will not see it ended on the account of this-“ He stopped himself before saying the word that everyone was thinking. Maehrys wanted to slash his neck.

“Say it.” Daemon spoke.

“Her children…” Ser Vaemond wasted no time. “Are bastards! And she is a whore.” He yelled and Maehrys was ready to take out the dagger from her garter, but Daemon’s hand on her shoulder stopped her from taking Vaemond’s life.

“I…” King Viserys slowly got up from the Iron Throne. “Will have your tongue for that.”

Daemon’s sword slashed Vaemond’s head, a waterfall of crimson erupting from him, as his body fell on the floor. Maehrys watched his lifeless body while listening to the gasps of the people echo through the throne chamber. Her gaze instinctively drifted towards Aemond, who was looking at Daemon clean his sword. His violet eye had a hint of admiration in it.

That was it. The title of “Lord of Driftmark” was secured, and her brother ought to wear the crown in short time.

“The King demanded a family supper.” Alisha announced as Maehrys entered her chambers.

“Daemon killed Ser Vaemond.” The princess sat down in front of her vanity. “Slashed his head in two.” She looked at Alisha’s face brighten through the mirror.

“That… sounds like something Daemon would do.” Alisha spoke and started taking off jewellery from the Princess’ hair.

“Yes, but he did it to defend Luke. To defend us, Ser Vaemond was calling us bastards!” Maehrys exclaimed.

Daemon’s violent outbursts were no surprise to the Princess. She witnessed Daemon kill other knights in tourneys simply because they had the upper hand. There was even an instance where her great-uncle made his dragon eat a messenger because he did not receive good news. Maehrys knew Daemon was ruthless and impulsive, yet she could not understand why he would defend her and her brothers. She reckoned he only cared about Rhaenyra’s silvered haired children.

“Perhaps the prince is beginning to get attached to you and your brothers.” The lady-in-waiting speculated.

A shiver ran down Maehrys’ spine when she heard Alisha’s words. She was afraid that her words were true, and that she would have to look at Daemon as a father, rather than as her mother’s consort. The thought physically made Maehrys shake her head.

“You were saying that my grandsire wishes to have supper with us?” Maehrys changed the subject and began to look through the different hair accessories. She picked up a pearly necklace, wondering if it would be appropriate to wear at the feast.

“Yes. He demands his whole family to be present.” Alisha spoke, braiding the Princess’ hair.

The Princess dropped the necklace, her body suddenly feeling restless. She did not wish to have supper with Alicent and her children. It was a nightmare waiting to begin. Maehrys got up from the chair as soon as Alisha finished braiding her second braid. She walked towards the chest where she had training clothes and began taking her gown off. “I wish to train.” She announced and Alisha hurried to help her dress. “Tell Ser Criston to meet me in the courtyard.” Maehrys commanded.

“Yes, your Grace.” Alisha left her chambers.

Maehrys was aware that if she did not train, or engage in any sort of physical activity, she will have too much energy during the supper. She ought to be exhausted during the dinner, she did not wish to have a clear mind and process all the insults that her uncles will throw at her and her siblings. It would be a lie if she said she did not miss a good training session. The Princess finished tying the laces of her boots when Alisha returned to her chamber.

Maehrys shivered as she made her way through the castle to the courtyard, which was less crowded than the day before; a scent of hay and rain floating through the air. Ser Criston was waiting by the wooden swords with his armour off. “Princess.” The knight threw a sword at her. The Princess was caught off-guard but managed to catch the wooden sword before it hit her face. “Position.” Ser Criston said as he positioned himself in front of her. Maehrys moved her body in a defensive position, guessing his aggressive sword fighting style.

Ser Criston swings first, just as Maehrys predicted. The Princess blocked his blow, their wooden swords slamming together. “You look like your mother.” Ser Criston spoke, applying more pressure onto Maehrys’ sword. He stepped closer. “From up close.” He added, swinging his sword a few more times. Maehrys parried his blows with effort, her muscles remembering what he taught her during her youth days.

“I could even say that you are pretty.” Ser Criston continued to attack, and all Maehrys could do is block his blows, not having a chance to swing herself. The Princess knew what he was doing: trying to distract her with words, but she was no fool. “You will grow into her.” Criston said and Maehrys started breathing harder as adrenaline levels began to adjourn. She whirled away from him, creating distance. The pain in her right shoulder reminded her of its creator and Maehrys finally swung, anger flowing through her body. Ser Criston was taken aback by her sudden offence and steps back after blocking her blow. “I might have been mistaken. You fight like your father.” He said and Maehrys instinctively swung her sword again. The knight avoided the blow and instead of swinging his sword, he pushed the princess on the ground.

Maehrys’ body plummeted on the cold, dirty ground, and she groaned when the pain in her shoulder began spreading through her entire arm. She attempted to grab the wooden sword that fell besides her, but her body would not obey her mind’s commands. Ser Criston did not try to help her, but just watched as the young princess struggled to get up. “I saw your mother in that position some time ago.” Ser Criston spoke again, and she slowly got up.

“What is the meaning of that?” Maehrys frowned, not understanding what Ser Criston was talking about. Did he fight Rhaenyra? Was her mother trained in combat?

“It means he fucked her.” Aemond’s sharp voice made her get up from the ground. She impulsively brought the sword up, the sharp edge pointing at her uncle.

“I could have your tongue for that.” Her mind began to fog, dread running through her veins. She wanted to defeat Aemond, badly.

“I do not wish to fight a girl.” The silver-haired prince spoke.

“Then I shall not be a girl today.” Maehrys started walking around Aemond, circling him, as she kept her wooden sword pointed at him.

˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°

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Taglist: @watermel0nsugarhigh

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crimxonwrites · 1 year

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Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Chapter 2 ❝the Wild Dragon❞

☽➛ Warnings: heavy mentions of self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!

☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC (slowburn enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)

☽➛ Word count: 2.7k

!!DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language! feel free to correct me at any time!

Chapter 3

Aemond was playing dirty.

A mixture of fear, anxiety and slight excitement ran through Maehrys’ veins when she tried to take the dagger that she hid under her garter. The book about Old Valyria fell on her foot in her attempt to grab the dagger. Aemond swiftly grabbed her other hand. The silvered hair prince pushed her against the library shelf with such force that she swore she bruised a shoulder. The impact was sudden, and her right shoulder throbbed in pain. The small blade fell from underneath the red gown onto the floor and Aemond kicked it further away, not letting her go.

“I should have your eye, you know.” He said on a low, ominous tone. “I should take revenge for what your younger brother did.” He kept on applying more and more pressure onto her wrist, his nails digging more and more through the princess’ pale skin.

“You’re dreadful.” She spoke, voice trembling with hate.

“You’re a bastard.” Aemond spoke back, his eye looking down on her.

The same never-ending bitter words. Maehrys was tired of Aemond’s hatred springing from her alleged paternal figure. But which one was he referring to now? Was he talking about the late Laenor? The father who does not look like her, and who was absent even before his death? Or perhaps he was talking about Ser Harwin Strong, who was more of a father figure than Laenor ever was. Or perhaps her great-uncle-stepfather, Daemon… who she was sure he did not care for children that are not white-haired. She had lost count.

“And how am I to blame?” She raised her voice, and he quickly placed his palm over her lips, shushing the girl.

“Shh, now.” His lips curled with a sinister smile. “I wouldn’t want people assuming that I was harming you, princess.” He could not claim this victory, because it was not a fair one.

Maehrys was afraid, angry but also confused. Why was Aemond doing this to her? If he really wanted to, which he certainly did, he could have killed her already. She could not comprehend why he has not done it already. The prince slowly removed his hand.

“How am I to blame for my mother’s doings? You think I chose to be born a bastard?” She asked, frantically trying to escape his grip.

Aemond pushed harder and she winced at the pain coming from her shoulder. “No, but I think you had the right intentions when you tried to take your life.” He finally let her go and she exhaled all the air she had been holding. Aemond took a step back and picked up the valyrian steel dagger. “I just wished you would have gone through with it.” He spoke his final words and walked off.

Maehrys’ heart was beating as fast as her thoughts were sprinting through her mind. The pain in her right shoulder was growing larger and her wrist was bleeding. She just stood there, processing what had happened not long ago. Aemond could have killed her; he had her pinned down, he had a blade in his hand. He did not even need the blade, his force was enough to suffocate her, or snap her neck, or gauge her eyes out.

Aemond Targaryen did not need a blade to kill her.

The princess picked up the book that she previously dropped and, despite the intense pain in her right shoulder and her left wrist, started sprinting to her chambers, hoping she will not encounter a familiar face on the way. Maehrys used to enjoy walking from the library to her chambers when she was younger. She used to look forward to reading a new book and fall asleep with it in her hands. It used to be a comforting, delightful way to end her day. But that was when she still considered the Red Keep her home. She was foolish and young: the Red Keep was all she knew. As of recent, she could not call that castle her home.

She tunnel-visioned her chamber and did not pay attention to the hand that had been placed on her shoulder until she felt the awful aching again.

“It’s late.” Daemon’s voice was low and sharp. Rhaenyra’s husband appeared like a tall, ghostly figure; his features slightly lit up by the candlelight. Maehrys shivered at his sight. “What happened to you?” He asked, glaring at the girl’s bloody wrist.

‘Aemond scratched, cut and hit me, again’ was what she would have said, if Daemon was not the way he was. She did not want to talk to him or be in his presence. Maehrys did not like him.

“Paper cut.” Maehrys lied, avoiding eye contact with the prince. Ever since she met him, Maehrys found his violent tendencies fascinating. There was a point in the princess’ life where she wanted to be just like him. Those moments passed fast when she realized how much of a cunt Daemon can be.

“You’re a bad liar.” He spoke. “And here I was, believing you are your mother’s daughter.” He added and the princess finally looked up at him.

“Perfect. Now everyone in the castle is not only going to question if Laenor is actually my father, but also if Rhaenyra is actually my mother.” She spoke, quickly regretting her words. Maehrys did not have any intention of pursuing the conversation any further. Her whole body was aching and all she wished to do was fall asleep reading. “I have to go.”

“Not so fast.” Daemon’s grip tightened around her shoulder. Her eyes started watering because of the pain. “What of your dragon eggs?” He asked and she frowned.

“What of them?” Maehrys questioned, the conversation suddenly piquing her curiosity.

“Any signs of them hatching as of recent?” Daemon’s gaze was sincere, with a sprinkle of confusion, and the princess swore she could of identify of some hope behind his blue eyes.

“I shall check when I get back in my chambers.” She said, deciding not to question the reason behind his curiosity tonight. “Good night, your Grace.”

Before allowing Daemon to say anything else, Maehrys picked up the pace to her chambers. When she reached her chambers’ door, she struggled to open it. A handful of maidens were tidying up her room, and she felt her knees shaking with exasperation. She felt drained.

“Out! Now!” She commanded and the women hurried to leave.

Alisha remained in the middle of the chamber, watching the princess as she placed the book on the table and desperately looking around the room. “You’re bleeding.” Alisha stated, trying to grab the princess’ arm, but Maehrys took a step back, shaking her head. She has had enough physical contact for the day. Her body felt dirty with Aemond’s touch still fresh on it. “I prepared a bath for you.” Alisha pointed to the big tub. “Hot-fiery water, just as you like it.” She added, in an attempt to get a few words out of the princess.

“I wish to be alone.” Maehrys whispered, feeling as if her speech has abandoned her.

“Very well, have a pleasant bath, your Grace.” The lady-in-waiting said.

Just after she heard the doors closing, the princess positioned herself in front of the long mirror and began to take off her red dress. Once every article of clothing was resting on the floor, she ripped the jewellery that was holding her heavy hair in place, throwing it. She could not stand looking at the reflection in the mirror any longer. It repulsed her knowing that she had lost to Aemond Targaryen that evening.

The girl groaned in pain as her skin made contact with the hot water, but not because of the temperature of the water, but because of her open wounds. She never minded the fire; it was one of the advantages of having Targaryen blood. The freshly made wounds on her left arm felt like small, sharp blades were piercing her skin. One, two, three, four, five. Maehrys counted five moon-shaped marks on her arm. Fuelled by self-hatred, the princess allowed the scorching water to soak her body when she disappeared under the water.

She hated herself for being foolish and believing that Aemond would not attack her when he had the chance. She hated herself for thinking that her uncle was mature enough to at least hurt her during a fair battle. The one-eyed prince remained as cruel as he was in their youth. If Aemond was playing dirty, she ought to play dirtier.

The princess emerged from the water when she felt like she could not hold her breath any longer. She was a fool to think that the Red Keep would ever feel like home again.

The morning came soon, and the first few minutes of bliss passed quickly as Alisha entered the chamber, bringing in fresh clothing and a tray of jewellery. Maehrys got up from the bed, feeling her sore shoulder quiver in pain. Alisha helped her dress up in a simple red and black gown, her mother’s favourite colour combination. She made sure the dress covered her left arm, down to her wrist in order to avoid showing off her newly made scars.

“The Princess Helaena has requested your presence for breakfast.” Alisha placed a necklace made out of gold around the princess’ neck and she shivered when the cold metal touched her hot skin.

Maehrys frowned at Alisha’s disclosure. If she was being true to herself, out of the three silvered-haired children of Alicent Hightower, she hated Helaena the least. From what she could recall, during her childhood, Helaena did not try to harm her, she simply used to always speak strange words that Maehrys could not comprehend. She would have been lying if she said she was not curious about Haelena’s current state.

Besides being married to Aegon, Maehrys did not know anything about her.

“Very well.” The princess nodded as she got up from her vanity.

“And later today, the trial court begins.” Alisha added as they left Maehrys’ chambers.

Perhaps she could kill Vaemond Velaryon before the trial.

A few ladies in waiting opened the big doors to Helaena’s chambers and the first thing that Maehrys noticed were the two silvered haired babes playing on the floor. She could not believe that Helaena gave birth. The concept of motherhood always terrified Maehrys, mainly because her mother’s birthing screams still haunted her dreams. She vividly remembered being in her chambers at Dragonstone while Rhaenyra gave birth to the twins, Viserys and Aegon. Rhaenyra screamed so loudly that her voice was gone the day after.

“Niece.” Helaena’s voiced changed since the last time Maehrys’ heard her.

“Your Grace.” Maehrys did not bow when Helaena greeted her but chose to sit down at the table.

“This is Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.” Helaena introduced her babes. “Their father will join us soon.”

The thought of Aegon joining their breakfast made Maehrys frown. It would have been polite if her half-aunt announced Aegon’s presence prior to Maehrys accepting to have breakfast with her. Helaena is not stupid; she knew that the princess would never agree to have breakfast with her if she mentioned her betrothed’s name.

“You’ve grown so much.” Helaena said while sipping on her tea. Maehrys nodded, giving Alisha a puzzled look. “Have you bled yet?”

Maehrys’ gaze suddenly shifted towards her half aunt, astonished at the outrageous questions she asked. “Yes.” The princess responded quickly and started eating, hoping that if her mouth were full, she would not have to answer Helaena’s questions.

“Your name day is approaching. Are you to be betrothed to one of your brothers?” Maehrys felt a piece of bread being stuck in her throat when Helaena continued to ask her strange questions. She took a sip of water and swallowed quickly.

“No. Jace and Luke are to be wed to Baela and Rhaena.” The concept of wedding one of her brothers was strange to Maehrys. It frightened her. She did not carry any other affection for her brothers besides sibling-love.

Helaena began eating her breakfast in silence, and Maehrys could not be happier. She was relieved that her half aunt did not speak in riddles anymore, but terrified of her peculiar questions. She had only discussed the concept of marriage and motherhood to one person prior to her: Alisha. Rhaenyra instructed Alisha to teach the princess about the principles of both from an early age, but Maehrys buried that conversation deep in her memory.

She did not wish to wed a man or give birth to a child; she did not even have a dragon yet.

“You are to wed the wild dragon.” Helaena stated, breaking the silence. Maehrys looked at her aunt in awe. Helaena’s eyes drifted towards the window; she looked as if she had been taken away by a dream.

The sound of the doors opening startled Maehrys. Aegon entered Helaena’s chambers in a rush and sat down as fast as he could, next to his sister-wife. He looked as if he has not slept in a fortnight and, since Maehrys saw him last, he cut his hair. His icy locks were gone, and his hair was barely touching his shoulders. Maehrys could swear she caught a glimpse of Alicent before the doors to Helaena’s chambers were closed.

Aegon did not wish to be here.

“Maehrys. It is lovely to see you.” Aegon spoke, his voice raspy and out of breath. The prince took a glass of water and chugged it before telling one of the servants to fill it up with wine.

Of course, Aegon grew into a drunk, debauched man.

“Your compliments are appreciated.” Maehrys lied as she took a final look at him. Aegon did not make her blood boil and he did not send her heart racing, in the way his brother did. The princess felt it in her bones that she could easily defeat Aegon in combat.

“You are to wed the wild dragon.” Helaena’s dream-like words caused Aegon to snicker.

Maehrys concluded that they were both laughing at her. Half of the realm knew that she was one of the only Velaryon children to not have claimed a dragon yet.

“You are to wed the wild dragon.” Maehrys jumped when she felt Helaena’s hand grip hers.

Helaena’s grip tightened and the princess suddenly got up from her seat, already overwhelmed with the two siblings. She did not need any more silvered-haired children laughing at her. Maehrys did not bow and did not say farewell as she stormed out of Helaena’s chambers. Alisha followed the princess while she was pacing through the halls.

“I am not going to wed a fucking dragon.” Maehrys swore, making her way back to her chambers.

“Wait, your Grace!” Alisha’s voice echoed through the empty hallway.

Maehrys’ mind drifted to the encounter with Daemon last night. He seemed strangely interested in her dragon eggs. Maybe Helaena’s words were true, and her eggs hatched. Maybe Daemon had a prophetic dream, and her eggs hatched. Maybe, maybe, maybe. She opened her chambers’ doors and walked directly to the chest where her three dragon eggs were held. Filled with rage and resent, Maehrys opened the chest, hoping that at least one of them hatched. Hoping that she could finally prove everyone wrong. Hoping that she will finally have a dragon of her own. Hoping, hoping, hoping.

The princess sighed in disappointment at the sight of the intact eggs.

“Princess!” Alisha entered her chamber and closed the door. The lady-in-waiting approached Maehrys, who collapsed besides the opened chest.

“What am I to do, Alisha?” Maehrys asked, frustration coating her words. “How am I to defeat them if I do not have a dragon?” She cried as Alisha wrapped her hands around the princess.

“Perhaps you will wed one.” Alisha said, wiping her tears away. Maehrys giggled through the tears. The joke was laugh-worthy when it came out of her friend’s mouth.

A knock on the door surprised them both, as Jace’s figure remained in front of her chamber. “The trial is starting, dear sister.” He announced.

Maehrys wiped her tears and straightened her gown. It was time she supported her brother’s claim to Driftmark.

˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°˜”*°

Also read on: AO3 | Wattpad

Taglist: @watermel0nsugarhigh

114 notes · View notes

crimxonwrites · 1 year

Text

Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Masterlist

☽➛ Warnings: heavy mentions of self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!

☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC (slowburn enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)

Prologue

Chapter 1➛ ❝Scars and bruises❞

Chapter 2➛ ❝the Wild Dragon❞

Chapter 3➛ ❝Lord of the Tides❞

Also read on: AO3 | Wattpad

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crimxonwrites · 1 year

Text

Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Chapter 1 ❝Scars and bruises❞

☽➛ Warnings: heavy mentions of self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!

☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC (slowburn enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)

☽➛ Word count: 3.1k

!!DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language! feel free to correct me at any time!

Chapter 2

Maehrys Velaryon, age 16

The waves of Dragonstone were particularly loud that day. The princess Maehrys was sorrowful that she had to leave, but she did not have a choice. Her mother forced her and her siblings to get on the ship and sail to King’s Landing. Ser Vaemond wanted to question Luke’s legitimacy and plead for the title of Lord of Driftmark. If she were to leave on any other circumstances, Maehrys would have been a little bit content with going back to the place where she spent her childhood.

Despite King Landing being a nightmare-fuelled place, Maehrys found herself chasing the feeling of nostalgia. She missed the capital and its sights, but she did not miss the people.

“Your name day is approaching.” Jace’s voice startled Maehrys. She turned away from the ship’s window and smiled at her older brother.

“It is.” Her voice was raspier than usual, and she decided to take a sip of water. “Are you going to get me a gift?” She put down the glass as Jace sat down beside her.

“Perhaps I should get you a new dress made. Are you going to change before we arrive?” Jace pointed at the short sleeves of her dress, specifically at the scar on her lower left arm.

Maehrys looked down and grazed her fingertips along the eight-year-old scar. When she was younger and still lived in King’s Landing, Rhaenyra forbade her to ever wear a short-sleeved piece of clothing. Her mother commanded her to never tell anyone about her attempt on taking her life and threatened to cut anyone’s tongue who would ever speak a word about it. Maehrys did not care any longer, as she buried her old self once she left the Red Keep. The new Maehrys decided to not let a scar define who she is.

“Perhaps I’ve grown fond of it.” She told Jace. The prince’s eyes furrowed in a mix of uncertainty and compassion. Maehrys sighed; she was tired of the pity that she often received from her mother and brothers. She wanted to be more than just a pity-worthy, weak princess and she planned on proving everyone the opposite, particularly her mother.

“Would you mind accompanying me on my walk?” Jace enjoined, drifting away from the main topic of their conversation.

“Lead the way, brother.” Maehrys responded, delighted that her older brother decided to not continue the conversation about her scar.

The ship’s deck was filled with servants and sailors, all of whom bowed down to the pair of heirs and saluted them, respectfully. Maehrys will miss the genuine politeness when they will arrive at King’s Landing. The folk of Dragonstone were truthfully respectful of Maehrys and her brothers’ titles, and would not dare do otherwise, whereas the people of the Red Keep would not fail an opportunity to throw an insult or give them a venomous look.

Vermax’s screeches stifled the sound of the waves crashing against the ship as Maehrys looked up, eyeing the leafy-scaled dragon. The three eggs that were presented to the princess while she was in the cradle did not hatch, so she remained dragonless.

Do not trouble yourself with these eggs, I am sure they will hatch someday was Luke’s signature comment when it came to comforting his older sister. Maehrys appreciated Luke’s optimism, but the girl lost hope long time ago, despite still carrying the chest containing the three dragon eggs everywhere she went. She began to feel attached to them, and even though she made peace with the certitude that they will never hatch, and she still treasured them. Luke, Jace and Joffrey got lucky.

“Perhaps you will claim a dragon at an older age.” Jace spoke, still gazing at his dragon. “It is not rare and if that little shit Aemond accomplished it, so can you.”

Maehry’s body shivered at the sound of her uncle’s name. She despised that after all those years, his presence still impacts her. Out of all the silver-haired children, she hated Aemond the most. During her pre-teens, Aemond was the one to target her the most; he would call her names, hurt her, and make her cry herself to sleep. He was the cruellest of them all. The princess was tired of fearing him, it ought to be the other way around.

“I am sure one of our dear uncles will die soon, and I will hurry to claim his dragon.” Maehrys spoke, shifting her gaze towards Daemon, who was keeping the captain company. “Or maybe Seasmoke will come back, he has been rider-less for quite a while now.” She added as Jace stopped and leaned on the ship’s wooden edge.

“Do you ever notice the absence of our father?” Jace asked, and Maehrys frowned at the vagueness of her older brother’s question.

Every time the word father would invade Maehry’s ears, she would have to put on her defences. Because of the people she was surrounded by growing up, she learned to always be cautious when someone would mention her paternal figure. She also learned to doubt whomever they were referring to.

“Not more than I did when he was alive.” The princess responded. “Though Daemon is doing a significant job when it comes to filling Laenor’s shoes.” She added, hinting at Rhaenyra’s pregnancy. Jace scoffed.

“You dislike him.” Jace’s intention was to ask her a question, but it sounded more of a statement.

“He refused to train with me.” Maehrys joined Jace, leaning on the edge of the ship. The ocean seemed restless today, as did her. Daemon would train with the boys, but never with her.

“That’s because you’re a-“

“Woman?” Maehrys cut off Jace in the middle of his speech and gave him an imposing look. They both knew that the only reason Daemon would not want to train the princess was because her mother could not command him. No knight in the Seven Kingdoms would willingly train with a girl.

In spite of Daemon’s refusal to train with Maehrys, she still trained with plenty of knights at Dragonstone, none of them compared with ser Criston Cole, her first mentor. She began to feel like the training sessions became dull three years ago, and she asked Daemon to train her. He laughed in her face.

“All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, her royal consort, Daemon Targaryen and their children.”

A shiver ran down Maehrys’ spine as she stepped out of the carriage. The cold autumn air was as unwelcoming as the lack of presence from the Queen, King, or the other silver-haired children. Lord Caswell’s figure came out of the massive doors.

“Welcome back, Princess.” The man greeted Rhaenyra.

As they were walking towards the castle doors, a swarm of servants approached the young heirs. A couple of ladies-in-waiting insisted on leading Maehrys to her old chamber, forcing her to split from her brothers. The princess wished she did not feel like an enemy within the castle, but as a guest. Walking through the Red Keep’s hallways felt strange to Maehrys. Every chamber and every corridor seemed so much smaller than she remembered. The princess’ mind was not the only thing that matured, but her height as well. She has grown almost as tall as Jace, and she is finally able to see the actual size of the castle. Maehrys wondered if her world also became much smaller than she remembered.

“This way, my princess.” A faceless servant stopped Maehrys from walking. “That is the way to the library.”

Perhaps her muscle memory was taking her to the library, one of the few places where Maehrys was allowed to have some peace during her youth. The smell of lavender and candle wax invades her nostrils as she entered her old chambers. Nothing has been changed from the last time she saw it, besides the bedsheets and a few tablecloths. “Very well, you may leave now.” She spoke to the group of servants.

“But-“

“It’s a command, not a request.” Maehrys put on a forged smile as she placed her hand on the doorknob. The ladies gave her bitter glances as they turned around to leave. “Not you, Alisha.” She added as she noticed her lady-in-waiting attempting to leave with the group.

The princess closed the doors as soon as Alisha entered the room. Alisha has been her primary lady-in-waiting ever since she got to Dragonstone, and Maehrys found comfort in her. She would sometimes tell Alisha what bothered the young princess and would even ask her for guidance, which is not an ordinary thing, but Alisha was wiser, and a bit older than her. Maehrys did not care for formalities with her and would even go as far as considering Alisha her friend… which she did not have many of, besides her brothers.

“How could I be of use, your Grace?” Alisha asked as Maehrys prompted herself onto the comfortable armchair. It was the same armchair she used to climb onto and watch Ser Harwin Strong train with Jace when they were younger.

“I wish to train with my brothers, fetch me the training clothes.” Maehrys commanded.

“Yes, your Grace.” Alisha opened the chest that arrived with them from Dragonstone and laid the clothes on the big bed. “Do you think it is wise, your Grace?” She asked as the princess stood up, looking at the bland tunics. Some of them were blood-stained, and some of them were even ripped. Rhaenyra would always give her second born a lesson about how she should avoid getting cut or hit during training sessions, but Maehrys refused to let that happen. She considered that if she didn’t bleed or bruised, she would not learn.

“Why would it not be?” Maehrys scowled and turned her back to her lady-in-waiting, signalling her to help the girl take off her necklace.

“Your uncles might have the same idea as you.” Alisha spoke as she placed the pearly necklace on the desk.

The thought of Maehrys training against her uncles, Aemond especially, used to terrify her. They both trained with the sword ever since they were able to think, and Maehrys was attuned to sleep with a dagger under her pillow just in case her uncle might sneak in her chamber in the middle of the night to try and kill her.

Maehrys is no longer afraid. She yearned for the day she would defeat Aemond in combat and prove to everyone at the Red Keep that she is no longer a weakling.

“I am looking forward to my encounter with my uncles on the training field.” The princess finally answered as she put on the last article of clothing.

The training grounds were cooler than the ones in Dragonstone, and the winds seemed to be restless, same as the waves she arrived upon. Maehrys checked her surroundings, hoping she would spot her two brothers. She did not, instead, she was met with disgruntled stares from the folk of the Red Keep. Suddenly, she was ten years old again and people would whisper bitter things behind her back, looking at her as if she was a traitor and offering her false smiles. Suddenly, the world felt bigger and Maehrys felt small again.

Jace’s snicker made the young princess focus her attention on her two brothers and she sighed in relief, feeling her anxiety-filled body relax.

“Brothers.” Maehrys greeted the pair.

“I defeated Luke, again.” Jace said, triumphantly.

Maehrys’ smile faded as she shifted her gaze towards her younger brother, who had an uneasy look on his face. “What’s your problem?” The older brother asked.

“Everyone is staring at us.” Luke replied quickly.

Maehrys’ could swear she felt her heart break because of the words her little brother spoke. One of her biggest fears was that Luke would experience a similar youth to hers and Jace’s. People marginalizing him, discriminating him, and calling him a bastard. Luke did not deserve this. None of them did. The princess decided to not let this visit upset Luke or sweet Joffrey.

Jace grabbed a wooden sword, trying to distract Luke from drowning in sorrowful thoughts. “No one would question me being the heir of Driftmark… if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong.” Luke spoke, looking around anxiously, making sure no one heard him.

“Don’t say that around them.” Maehrys took a step closer to Luke. “If you do, you accept defeat.” She added on a worried but also commanding tone.

“It does not matter what they think.” Jace added.

The crowd was growing noisier and noisier as a circle was forming around two people. The three siblings made their way towards the mass of people and watched in silence. Maehrys quickly recognized the pair that were duelling: Ser Criston Cole and Aemond Targaryen, her half-uncle. Aemond’s silver hair has grown longer, and he wore an eyepatch covering his left eye. The prince moved swiftly, dodging Ser Criston’s attacks. It looked as if he was dancing. Maehrys gripped the wooden sword harder and harder as she watched the man she desperately wanted to defeat in combat, winning against her childhood mentor. Aemond’s sword rapidly found its way a few centimetres away from Criston’s neck. She could not help but wonder if she had any chance of winning.

The crowd applauded as Ser Criston accepted defeat. “Well done, my Prince.” He spoke and Maehrys noticed that his voiced has changed over the years. It became deeper, sharper, and more menacing. “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” Aemond said, his tone being as icy as his hair. He lowered the wooden sword and shifted his attention towards the trio. “Nephews, niece…” The sight of him made her stomach turn. “Have you come to train?” Aemond was making eye contact with Maehrys, and she could feel her heart galloping with anger. His face was unreadable, but his voice was threatening.

The princess waited so long for this moment, where she could prove to everyone that she’s changed, and she’s capable of fighting. Maybe she was wrong about not fearing her uncle, because the moment she saw him, her body was rejecting any kind of confidence it once held. She greatly wanted to fight him, but she was no longer certain that she will take the victory.

“Open the gates!” A foreign voice startled the folk. Everyone turned their back from Ser Criston and Aemond, who was placing the wooden sword back where it belonged.

Everyone but Maehrys.

The princess watched her uncle’s every move with curiosity but also despair. He has grown a lot, his figure was not as slim as it used to be, and his height was taller than even Ser Criston’s. She desperately tried to find any weakness within him, but she failed miserably. Maehrys drew the conclusion that her uncle countered her from every perspective.

Maehrys finally turned around towards the gate and watched the bannermen march towards them, together with a man who resembled Lord Corlys. Lord Vaemond Velaryon came to defend his right to claim Driftmark., and with that, question Luke’s legitimacy. Overwhelmed by the situation, the princess decided to leave.

As she paced back to her chambers, Maehrys found herself haunted by shame. It was the first time she ever backed out from a fight. She was afraid to admit that she would have to fight dirty in order to beat Aemond, but she had no other option. The princess opened the doors to her chambers and found a satisfied-looking Alisha.

“I do not wish to hear it!” Maehrys exclaimed as she stormed through the chamber.

“Hear what, your Grace?” Alisha asked, with a grin on her face.

“You know what. Now help me out with these.” The princess commanded.

Maehrys felt like she was not worthy of wearing her training clothes anymore and was glad once she was back in her red gown. She left her chambers and headed to her only battlefield for today: the library. The princess would lie if she said she did not miss the massive library within the Red Keep. Dragonstone had its own library, sure, but it did not compare to the Red Keep’s.

Walking through the giant isles of books, she felt delighted. The books were more welcoming than the people. As she encountered the history section, she picked up a book titled The doom of Valyria. The contents of the book described how the magic-powered empire turned to ash when the volcano erupted, its lava killing even the biggest of the dragons.

“Bastard.” Her lecture was interrupted by Aemond’s voice.

Maehrys quickly closed the book and furrowed her brows. She had almost forgotten that Aemond liked to frequent the library as much as the training grounds. He has changed from his previous training clothes into a greener uniform. It appeared as though Alicent’s preferred colour of clothes imprinted on her children. His long hair was tied back, with only one silvery strand of hair hanging over his eyepatch. Aemond had his arms behind his back, and Maehrys wondered if he was holding a dagger, or perhaps even a sword.

“Aemond.” She simply greeted him, not taking her eyes off his arms, afraid that he would try to harm her. It appears that harming the princess remained his preferred activity.

“I see you’ve chosen not to hide your scar anymore.” Aemond pointed towards her left arm.

The princess could not help but ponder on why he has initiated the conversation. Has he come to torment her again? Was his body the only thing that matured? Is his mind still young and stupid, still searching for fights with people that would not win against him? Maehrys glared at him again, anger fuelling her train of thought. She also wondered if the Gods were testing her, because she wanted to wrap her hands around his neck, and not leaving the library until he was breathless. Maybe it was good exercise to be around him to not fear him anymore.

Maehrys needed discipline as much as she needed revenge.

“I see you’ve chosen to hide yours.” Maehrys let displeasure take control of her and spoke without giving too much thought. She immediately put her defences up when she noticed the young prince begin to slowly walk towards her.

“Do you wish for me to take it off?” He asked nonchalantly, with every step getting closer and closer. “Do you wish to see the aftermath of your brother’s doing?” Her heart started beating faster and faster as Aemond got closer to her. The anger quickly turned into fear when he grabbed her left arm. His clutch was strong, and she winced when he dug his nails into her skin. Aemond forced her to turn her wrist up, disclosing her scar. “I wish you would’ve pierced deeper, dear niece.” His words hurt as much as his grip.

Maehrys was right, the library turned into her battlefield that day.

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A/N: Thank you so much for your support! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Also read on: AO3 | Wattpad

Taglist: @watermel0nsugarhigh

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crimxonwrites · 1 year

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Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Prologue

☽➛ Warnings: heavy mentions of self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!

☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC (slowburn enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)

☽➛ Word count: 1.5k

Prologue

!!DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language! feel free to correct me at any time!

29th of October, 112 AC

Maehrys Velaryon’s birthing took place during the full moon of the second month of autumn at the Red Keep in King’s Landing. The air was colder than usual, and her hair colour reflected that; dark and cool but not icy, like her mother’s. The little babe could not comprehend how her birth would impact Rhaenyra’s life, and how much trouble her pitch-dark locks would bring her.

She was born a silent babe; Rhaenyra’s labour was short and less painful than the labour of her firstborn, Jacaerys Velaryon. Her birthday would be the last day Maehrys would be silent.

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Maehrys Velaryon, age 6

The pig’s oinking became louder as she approached the dragon pit. The massive room was as gloomy as she remembered and the air became thick, almost suffocating her. Jace, Aegon and Luke were snickering at Aemond’s facial expression. They tricked him.

“Looks like you cannot claim a dragon either.” The little girl smiled, in an attempt to comfort her uncle, who has fallen victim to Jace and Aegon’s joke, again.

“I will claim the biggest dragon one day.” Aemond did not make eye contact with his niece. “Unlike you.” He turned to face the girl. “Dragons do not like bastards.” Aemond’s voice was resentful and not even the dragon pit’s darkness could hide his disgusted facial expression.

Her brothers and her other uncle left the dragon pig swiftly and left the two of them alone.

“I am not a bastard!” The girl shrieked as her vision started to blur because of the tears. Regardless of her lack of knowledge about the word, she understood that the word had a negative connotation behind it and her uncle did not imply it as a compliment.

“Out of my way, bastard.” Aemond pushed her, causing Maehrys to lose balance and fall.

As she laid there, in the dragon pit, she could only hear the faint noises of the pig. The girl wondered why her uncle held so much hatred towards her. She wondered what bastard meant, and why it seemed like everyone was whispering it behind her back lately.

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Maehrys Velaryon, age 8

Maehrys turned over the page about dragons and continued her lecture about the oldest and biggest dragon: the Cannibal. Cannibal is stated to be the eldest of all the wild dragons and was even older than Sheepstealer. His scales are as black as coal and his eyes are glowing green, fuelled by menace. The smallfolk of Dragonstone named the beast Cannibal because he would feast with dragon eggs, smaller dragons and even corpses of dragons. She caressed her fingers on the page depicting a picture of Cannibal. The girl did not appreciate how the author of the book was labelling the dragon as a beast. She did not think of him as a beast, but rather as a dream. She never would have thought that she will relate to a wild dragon this much; the smallfolk were clearly afraid of him and casted him aside instead of trying to form a bond with the majestic dragon.

Maehrys Velaryon decided that she will grow up to tame the biggest and eldest wild dragon to have ever existed: the Cannibal.

“You are not allowed to be here.” Aemond’s voice startled the young princess. The prince began to walk towards her, eyeing the book she was holding. “The wild dragons of Westeros.” He read the title and laughed, snatching the book out of her small hands.

“Give it back!” Maehrys exclaimed, but Aemond raised his hand, for her not to reach the book. The height difference was noticeable because the prince was already going through his growing phase, making it even more gruelling for her to reach the book. Aemond was not as tall as Aegon, but Maehrys was struggling still.

“You are not to read about dragons, bastard.” He said, looking down on her. “Go back to your unhatched eggs.”

“Give it back, uncle!” The princess was holding back tears. She tried jumping, and even contemplated touching his arm, but dismissed the thought completely in fear of Aemond hurting her again. “Please!”

“Fine.” Aemond let go of the heavy book, which landed on her feet.

The princess cried in pain as the book made contact with her right foot. She collapsed to the ground, tears falling down her cheeks.

If she had a dragon, no one would dare to hurt her any longer.

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Ser Harwin Strong would seize the Velaryon steel blade out of the young girl’s hands. “Seven hells, what do you think you are doing?” He asked, taking her bleeding arm into his hand. The knight looked in horror at the open wound.

The eight-year-old Maehrys whimpered as pain took control of her body. She did not want to live anymore. She wanted her existence in the castle to cease, she wanted to leave this world forever. The young girl was exhausted of hearing the words “bastard”, “dark haired”, “illegitimate”. Poisonous whispers would invade her ears day by day, and she grew envy of the dead; the dead could not hear, could not feel, could not cry. She was tired of her uncles’ endless taunting, and at times, physical assault. She wanted to disappear.

She wished her grandfather, the King, would sentence her to death and let her rest peacefully.

Her grandfather was selfish.

“Maehrys!” Rhaenyra’s voice was breaking, as was her heart. “Fetch me the maester!”

Maehrys could not understand why she didn’t pierce deeper. She hesitated because she was weak. She felt at peace when her eyes fell heavy and her breathing slowed.

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Maehrys Velaryon, age 8

The young princess mourned her father, Laenor, her aunt Laena and her only friend, Harwin Strong. People started to drop dead suddenly, and she understood that there is a chance that her time might come, sooner or later. Perhaps sooner, following that disaster that happened at Driftmark, when her younger brother Luke took one of Aemond’s eyes.

Life is precious, people get very little of it lately. Was one of the last things she heard from ser Harwin, and she wished she had never heard it before. Maehrys could not fully comprehend what went wrong with the attempt on taking her life, but she was somehow grateful for it.

“Mother.” The girl approached Rhaenyra, who was tending to the wound caused by the mean Queen Alicent on her lower arm. Maehrys raised the sleeve of the dress and placed her arm next to Rhaenyra’s. “Look, we are the same.”

“Oh, child.” Rhaenyra sighed and wrapped her arms across the young princess, pulling her into a tight hug despite the throbbing pain in her left arm.

She could not understand why her mother weeps so often, but she chose to believe that Rhaenyra’s crying was a happy one. Happy that they were the same, despite their hair colour being different and despite what other folk were whispering about them.

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Maehrys Velaryon, age 12

“Enough!” Ser Criston Cole shouted as he pushed the young girl on the frigid ground. “I do not wish to harm you anymore, princess!” He exclaimed when he saw her struggling.

The girl spat blood as she pushed the sword in the muddy ground. Her muscles were spasming and her head was throbbing, but she did not listen to Ser Criston. With the help of her sword, she slowly got up. The right sleeve of her tunic rolled up a little bit, but just enough for him to see the two-year-old scar on her lower arm. A reminder that there was once a time when the princess wished to live no longer. “Our training session is not over.” She said, raising the sword, in spite of her sore body. The sharp edge was facing a very sorrowful Criston Cole.

“I yield.” Ser Criston threw his sword on the ground and raised his arms, as a sign of defeat. The cold, heavy autumn rainfall made it difficult for him to see her face clearly, but he could sense her exasperated disposition.

“Pick up your sword.” Her voice was guttural from all the blood coating her throat. When she realized ser Criston had no intention of following her order, she shouted: “I command you to pick up your sword!”

The princess was young, but old enough to demand of her mother to let her train with the strongest of knights. After the failed attempt of taking her own life, she decided to start training every day, in hopes that she would defeat Aemond in combat one day. Not only Aemond, but Aegon too; and ser Criston Cole, and the mean Queen, and everyone who would dare to call her a bastard.

If she couldn’t be one of them, she would become so, so much worse.

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☽➛A/N: Hi! Sorry for being gone for so long, I've been doing uni work and binging game of thrones/house of the dragon. I've had this idea for a fanfic for quite a while now so I finally decided to publish it. !!DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language! feel free to correct me at any time!

Also read on: AO3 | Wattpad

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

Text

Sorry, I Can't Talk Right Now, I'm Doing Hot Girl Shit...

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

Text

𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄 || 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

summary: tonight was supposed to be the night you finally fed, only somehow eddie munson manages to satiate your appetite without losing his life. [eddie munson x succubus!reader || jennifer's body au]

cw: smut || 18+ only [ft. oral sex (f receiver), virgin!eddie, switch!reader, switch!eddie, lots of biting/teeth,], there's some mentions about not eating for a long time but it's not ed related (you just haven't killed anyone in a month okay?), general mentions of killing (no gore), lmk if i missed any

a/n: this was born out of a conversation w @ringpop-poppy who asked me to tag her lol. thank her for getting me out of my writer's block <3

For someone who’s been obsessed with you since middle school, Eddie doesn’t notice you’re standing next to him until he closes his locker.

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaims in surprise, bumping his side against the row of lockers. The metal boxes clank at the impact.

“Hi, Eddie,” you say blankly, leaning your shoulder against the wall.

He frowns at the tone of your voice– dry and monotonous and devoid of the snark he’s so used to hearing. He scans your figure, the dip between his eyebrows deepening when he notices the sheen of sweat on your forehead and the dullness of your skin.

You look sick– your cheeks are sunken in, cheekbones protruding abnormally and dark circles under your eyes looking more like bruises. Strangest of all, you’ve switched your beloved dresses for a pair of baggy jeans and a purple sweatshirt that looks 2 sizes too big.

Actually, the strangest thing is that you’re talking to him. In public.

“Heeey,” he greets back, dragging the ‘e’ as he looks around the hallway. There’s a couple of people giving the pair of you strange looks, some jocks narrowing their eyes menacingly at him, but everyone seems to move on pretty quickly from this peculiar interaction.

He doesn’t even hear a gaggle of cheerleaders giggling behind manicured hands as they watch you talk to him. There’s only Chrissy Cunningham, standing alone a couple of feet away from you and giving him a small wave. He relaxes ever so slightly. “You okay?”

“I’m fantastic,” you say with a lack of excitement.

Eddie snorts. “You don’t sound very believable.”

“Oh.” You run a long finger nail down the plastic spiral of the notebook you’re cradling against your chest, raising an eyebrow when Eddie shivers at the sound. You stop. “Just hungry. I haven’t eaten in…” you blow some air as you pretend to think, cheeks puffing out. “I can’t even remember.”

“Oh, um, I got some pretzels. If you want. Here.” He unhooks one of the straps of his bag from around his shoulder and struggles to open the zipper, pulling at it with as much strength as he can muster without risking it breaking.

He almost jumps out of his skin when you place a cold hand on his forearm. He stares at it, confused. Why are you so cold? It’s almost spring break.

“It’s okay, Eddie.” He fights back the shiver that threatens to go down his spine at how softly you say his name. “I’m working on it, don’t worry. Besides, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me something,” he echoes back. “Uh, sure. What do you need?”

You kick your foot against the dirty school floor, biting your lower lip. Eddie notices how chapped they are– what’s usually a pair of very smooth and glossy lips is now covered in dried, cracking skin. He frowns in concern even more.

“D’you wanna come over tonight?” You twirl a strand of hair between two fingers and smile at him. “I could rent A Nightmare on Elm Street and make some popcorn. Or The Shining, whichever you want.”

Eddie blinks owlishly at you, chuckling awkwardly and gesturing between your bodies with his index finger. His heavy cross metal ring glints under the fluorescent lights. “Us. Watch a movie. At your house. Uh…” He fleets his gaze back around the hallway and notices a significant lack of students walking around.

He leans closer to you, trying to be as quiet as possible when he asks, “Is this some sort of joke?”

“No,” you shake your head, tilting it to the side when you see a thin chain around his neck. Your smile is more natural as you grab it and bring it out from under his shirt, the corners of your mouth tilting up minisculely when the guitar pick dangles in the air. “Cute,” you say airily.

Eddie can’t take his eyes off you. He’s pretty sure he’s going crossed eyed as he watches you play with his necklace. “So you’re serious,” he pushes.

“As a heart attack,” you deadpan, still staring at the small plastic triangle and poking it with your middle finger. If you felt like your normal self, you’d be giggling at the sound of your nail hitting the guitar pick. “So?”

“Sure.” Eddie nods enthusiastically. This has to be a dream come true. “Sure, yeah.”

“Great.” Some of your usual brightness comes back to your face at his answer. You open your notebook and quickly write down your address, rip the paper and offer it to him with a sweet smile. The kind that Eddie never thought would be directed at him. “My parents leave on vacation at seven, so come around eight.”

“Ookay,” he slowly plucks the paper from between your fingers, almost dropping it when you press a kiss on his cheek.

You wink at him, walking backwards. “Can’t wait.”

He presses his fingers to the spot your lips touched, skin feeling hot, and stares dumbstruck as you walk back to Chrissy and hook your arm around hers, giggling at each other as you make your way to class.

–

Eddie slaps one hand on the steering wheel as he drives down the street, head banging in the air to the rhythm of Black Sabbath’s Evil Woman.

His heart beats a thousand miles per hour, blood pumping through his veins at a speed it never has before. He can’t stop the giddy smile from spreading on his lips, shaking his head in disbelief– he’s driving to the house of the girl of his dreams to watch a movie and… other stuff.

He hopes other stuff happens. You had said it so suggestively, making sure to mention your parents leaving you home alone and– and you had kissed his cheek! That had to be a sign, right?

He covers his mouth with his hand and exhales a breath out, sniffing the air. He grimaces and leans to the side, the van swerving with him as he struggles to keep control of the wheel at the same time as he looks for the pack of gum he kept in the back pocket of his jeans.

He manages to get it out right before he has to turn the corner on the right, hooraying loudly and the wheels screeching as he maneuvers wildly. Keeping his foot on the pedal, he quickly unwraps the gum and throws the paper on the backseat, popping it into his mouth. He chews it through his deafening singing, the fresh minty flavour exploding on his taste buds.

His singing turns into a quiet mumble when he notices that the streets get progressively darker until there are no lamp posts turned on. The hairs on the back of his head stand in alert and he turns down the music completely, his chewing slowing along with the van as he reaches the address written on the paper.

He picks it up from where he tucked in inside the overhead visor, his finger gracing over the smooth letter you wrote. He’s sick with love as he traces the tiny heart dotting the ‘i’.

He looks outside his window and to the row of identical houses across from where he’s parked. There’s only one house with a single light turned on and, effectively, it’s the right address.

Putting the paper back where it belongs, Eddie takes a deep breath and fixes his hair. He gets out of the car and stands facing the houses, adjusting his leather jacket and spitting out the gum. With a reassuring nod to himself he walks forward.

Everything is eerily quiet. He fastens his steps when he gets the feeling that someone is watching him, taking the short porch steps two at a time and comes to a sudden stop when he sees a plank of wood over the front door. Uselessly, he tries the doorknob anyway, jiggling it until it becomes obvious that the door isn’t going to open.

He takes a couple steps back and looks to both windows on either side of the door, noticing a sheet of plastic hanging over the glass like a makeshift protective curtain. His eyebrows scrunch down in confusion– something isn’t right.

There’s no way that the Queen of Hawkins High, resident Mean Girl, lived in a house like this. He had heard through the grapevine how lavish her house was, how big and deep the pool in her backyard was and how she had a room designated to store all the alcohol you could imagine. Everyone raved about how handy it came for the parties he had never been invited to and how they always ended in someone being thrown into the water.

His curiosity is piqued, though. He heads to the left side of the house, jumping off the porch and stepping on the narrow bit of grass between your supposed house and your neighbour’s. He looks up to the sky and notices a ladder out of the corner of his eye, right below an open window.

Making sure it’s sturdy enough, he climbs it, slapping the plastic curtain back and throwing himself inside the house. He groans in pain when he hits the floor with a lack of grace, holding his shoulder and rubbing the sore spot.

Even inside, everything is still pitch black.

“Hello?” He calls out your name, taking a hesitant step forward. “Anyone home?”

No one answers him.

He walks out of the room, quietly moving another plastic curtain to the side and starts navigating the house curiously. He thinks he’s in the living room when he finally hears something, a low and sugary sweet beat coming from up the stairs.

The steps creak under his Reebooks. He’s almost on the landing when a crow appears out of nowhere and flies past him like he isn’t even there, its wings flapping noisily. “Holy mother of God,” he curses, resting his back against the wall and clutching his chest.

When his heart rate is back to normal he keeps climbing, finally reaching the first floor. There’s a crack of warm light coming from the room the farthest away from where he’s standing, the music growing louder as he follows it.

His lips pull up when he sees the many lit up candles around the room, placed between planks of wood and construction tools. There’s a radio on a workshop table playing a song he wouldn’t be caught dead listening to but it fits his fair maiden to perfection.

“You made it,” your voice comes from behind him unexpectedly. He jumps in the air and screams, eyes wide when he turns around and sees how sick you look now. Even worse than you look at school.

Eddie twists one of his rings around his finger as you saunter towards him, hips swaying hypnotically. He gulps, “This– this isn’t really your house, is it?”

Eddie is hit with a wave of your perfume– dark, smelling of chocolates and wild berries– as you stand in front of him.

“No, baby,” you pout, shaking your head softly. You take his hand and place it over your chest. “This is our home. Just for us.”

Eddie chuckles, sounding uncomfortable. His eyes are glued to the chain that dips between your breasts and the heart locket that hangs from it. “What would we need a house for?”

Your giggle is sweet, your touch soft as you caress his chest and squeeze his shoulders. Eddie holds his breath as you lean forward and whisper in his ear, “To play mommy and daddy.”

Oh shit, he thinks. When did the air become so stuffy?

Your hands go to the back of his neck, long nails scratching his nape and almost making him purr. There’s goosebumps on the skin of his throat as you run your nose against it, bump his jaw up with it and nip gently at his earlobe. “Do you wanna play with me, Eddie?”

He’d do anything you asked of him. “Yes, fuck, yes.”

You pull him towards you by the hair and press your lips together, not bothering with taking it slow, slipping your tongue inside his mouth. He tastes good– minty and smokey and something else… something sweet. Not like the other boys you’ve kissed before to feed on them. They were salty with lust, greedy as they tried to control the kiss. Control you.

But not Eddie. No, he molds himself to you, lets you take whatever you want from his and is grateful for it.

You don’t like it.

Determined to forget about… whatever it was that made your heart skip a beat, you pull away and drift your kisses down his neck, biting him harshly while your hands work on the belt around his hips. You can hear his heavy pants as you stroke his cock over his jeans, adding pressure and feeling the hard and heavy bulge under your palm twitch as you run your tongue over the teeth marks imprinted on his skin.

“Fuck, fuck, wait.” He reaches for your wrists to stop you from lowering his jeans. “Jesus– that was… so fucking hot. Need a minute.”

You huff out an irritated breath, snarking, “I don’t have a minute.”

Being so close to feeding, to sinking your teeth into fresh meat and warm blood, and then having it stripped away from you has made you lose some of your charm. “Just let me suck your cock or something, Jesus,” you roll your eyes in annoyance.

Eddie laughs, holding your cheeks and kissing your still chapped lips that are now shiny with spit. “That’d defeat the whole purpose of taking a minute.”

God, why does he have to be so sweet? It’d be easier if he were an asshole that couldn’t wait to get his dicks wet and didn’t care about making it last. You can’t stand it. Can’t stand him.

“How about I eat you out, hm? To pass the time?”

You really don’t mean to, but it’s impossible to stop yourself from blurting out in surprise, “Eat me out?”

“Yeah.” Your stunned face shocks him. “Wait, you’ve never…”

You shake your head, mouth parted. Strictly speaking, you’re not being 100% truthful. Some of your victims have attempted to eat you out, giving you a couple of licks that did nothing for you just to get you wet enough so they could sink their greedy cocks into you without your body rejecting them. Like that would happen.

Still, it’s not like any of those boys managed to get you off with their mouths, so there’s no point in explaining all that to Eddie.

“Oh, baby,” he sighs. His hands that were cradling your face go down the sides of your body, stroking your curves and settling on your hips. He pushes you forward so your pussy can grind on his bulge. You gasp. “Baby, baby, baby, baby. You have no idea what you’ve been missing.”

You don’t like him having the upper hand. Forcing yourself back into character, you grip the roots of his hair until he hisses. “Show me, then.”

Eddie’s grin is wolfish. “As my fair lady wishes.”

He’s the one who pulls you into a bruising kiss this time, his tongue playing with yours as he deepens it. You traipse back towards the wooden table together, stumbling over each other’s feet.

Your hips reach the table first, the tools on it clattering to the floor and the radio shaking as it struggles to keep itself balanced. Eddie chuckles against your lips and helps you get on the edge of the table, pushing you backwards until you’re laying flat on the hard surface.

He trails kisses down your throat and chest, kissing the swells of your breasts that your tank top exposes, sucking on the skin until colourful splotches appear. You arch your back into his face, mumble a curse when his teeth graze your hardened nipple over the thin fabric of your top.

He peppers more wet kisses down your stomach, dampening your shirt with his spit. He laves his tongue his tongue over the exposed bit of skin of your tummy and flips your skirt up, mouth jumping from your hip bone to your inner thigh, completely neglecting your core in favour of feverishly biting marks into the softness of your thighs.

The closer he gets to your panties, the softer his nips become, turning into soft pecks that make you warm where his lips touch you. When he reaches your mound, he presses the gentlest kiss over the little bow stuck to your cotton panties, stealing a glance up at you.

You don’t think you’ve ever been looked at with such tenderness. Not even before you were turned into this monster. It makes you shiver, hips raising to help him lower your underwear.

Eddie’s dimples show when he sees the glistening threads sticking to the fabric, spreading thinner and thinner as he separates it from your pussy.

An involuntary moan comes out from deep within your chest when he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking it between his teeth and licking wet stripes up your clit, his warm tongue slipping between your folds eagerly. He chances another look up at you, watches you raise yourself on your elbows and brush back his bangs before tangling your fingers in his messy waves.

Your chest is already panting as you watch him swirl your little nub with the tip of his tongue, rising and falling in rapid succession with the quick, short breaths you take. There’s a thin layer of sweat forming on your hairline, Eddie inadvertently melting away the coldness that had taken over your body at the lack of nutrients and raising your temperature until it feels like there’s wildfire coursing through your veins.

“Eddie,” you whine when he pushes you into his mouth, forcing you to grind against his face. A whimper falls from your parted lips when he forces his tongue into your hole, tasting the deepest parts of you that have never been explored by any man. “S-so good.”

It feels more than good. It is more than good and you’re not used to it ever feeling this good. You tighten your grip on his hair and Eddie moans filthily against you, finally allowing his eyes to flutter shut as he makes out with your pussy like he’s been fantasizing about for years. You taste sweeter than he imagined– unnaturally so. He’s drunk on your taste, his mind becoming foggy, all and any thoughts he had other than you disappearing from his mind as he focuses on the feast in front of him.

You don’t understand what’s happening– your legs spam around his head and your body jerks up, muscles tensing then relaxing immediately as a tsunami of pleasure crashes over you and leaves you breathless.

You fall onto your back as you gush all over him, filling his mouth with your slick. With trembling hands, you force him away from you, hazy eyes blinking up at him.

He looks… messy. Hair mussed up from your fingers gripping it, lips red and swollen from eating you out like a starved prisoner, chin shiny and dripping with your release, pupils dilated and eyes glazed over just the same as yours.

He’s unfairly pretty.

“Are you okay?” He asks, crowding your body as he leans down and examines your face closely. Your skin returned to it’s usual glow, your hair no longer looking oily and thin. Somehow, your lips aren’t dry anymore– they’re plump and soft.

“I feel– I feel weird,” you slur. You had expected to return to normal after feeding on Eddie, but you haven’t even punctured an artery and the immeasurable hunger you’ve been feeling all of last month is almost completely gone.

Something isn’t right.

Eddie’s heart skips a beat at your confession. “Shit, did I hurt you? Was that too much?”

“Too much? That was… Where the hell did you learn that, Munson?”

He shrugs one shoulder bashfully, his cheeks growing pink at your disbelief. “College girls have a thing for struggling rockstars, apparently.”

Something ugly grows in your chest at the thought of Eddie fucking other people, of another girl keeping his cock warm. You’ve always liked the virgins– they were sweet like candy and desperate and let you take whatever you wanted from them. You milked their souls dry before they could even stutter out a “thank you”.

You had chosen Eddie on purpose and had been so very careful before approaching him earlier today. You had smelled him and sensed that honeyed aura virgin boys always had around them. And you knew he liked you, poor boy wasn’t very good at hiding it.

So you started being nicer to him: lending him your book in English class when he forgot his copy, whispering to him the answer to a problem in Miss O’Donell’s class when her back was turned to you, smiling at him when you passed each other in the hallway. You even stopped Jason from mocking him and his nerd group a couple of times.

It had almost cost you your reputation. But you were so hungry, and he was so pretty and smelled so delicious. To have him not be a virgin, have all of your hard work mean nothing, it makes you angry.

Your previously shining doe eyes grow dark and narrow into thin slits. Your canines elongate and you do your best to cover them as you say, “So you’re not a virgin?”

Eddie’s startled by your sudden change of mood. “Uh…” he swallows awkwardly, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the motion. “Uh, not– not completely. Couple of blowjobs here and there but– but I’ve never…”

“Fucked a girl?” you guess. He nods shyly and you relax your tense shoulders, returning to your mellow self from 3 minutes ago. You’re giving Eddie whiplash.

You wrap a leg around his hips and push them forward, pressing his hard cock against your wet pussy and gasping at the scratch of the denim. “You wanna fuck me, Eddie?”

His breath catches as you grind your hips against his, eyes rolling at the feel of the heat of your cunt seeping through his jeans. He’s pretty sure there’s a damp spot on his boxers caused by his leaky slit. “Y-yes, God, yes.”

You raise a hand to cradle his cheek, stroking his skin with your thumb. “Yeah? Want my pussy to be the first one you ever feel?”

“Uh huh.” He makes a broken sound, nodding repeatedly. Your voice is hypnotizing, your touch so gentle. “Wanna– wana fuck you. Need it. Please.”

You let go of his cheek and his head falls forward, forehead resting against yours and his hot breath fanning over your face. You reach forward and unzip his pants, lowering them enough so that his cock and his balls fall out.

“Shit,” he swears as you lick your hand, maintaining eye contact, and grip him, pumping your fist up and down his length. Eddie’s hips jerk forward.

You kiss along his jawline and whisper in his ear, “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“Fuck, wanna spread your pussy with my cock,” he whines. You press his cock down to your mound and glide your pussy along his dick, puffy and wet folds spreading around his thick girth and bumping your swollen clit with his pretty pink tip. “Aw, shit. J-just like that. So fucking good.”

You kiss behind his earlobe. “What else?”

“Want to m-make you cum,” he stutters when you cradle his heavy sack in your palm, gently squeezing it. “Want to– to fill you up and watch it drip out.”

You giggle mischievously in his ear and Eddie’s mind short circuits. “You want to make me messy?”

“So messy– oh!” he moans when you push his cock into your weeping cunt. Only his mushroom shaped head is inside but that’s almost enough to push him over the edge. He bites his lip until he draws blood.

You lean forward to lick it up and hum dreamily as you get your first taste of him. He’s so nice and tastes so good, it’s a pity that you have to kill him.

“Holy shit.” Eddie stares at you with eyes as wide as saucers, then glances down to where your tight heat is welcoming his cock home, spread wide around it. If he thought he had been drunk on your taste before, he feels like he’s just chugged three bottles of the moonshine the older teens at the trailer park drank when he was younger. “Holy shit.”

“Come on, Eddie,” you encourage him, “Fuck me.”

“Y-yeah.” He draws back then forward again, slowly finding a strong rhythm. His hips slaps against yours with wet slaps of skin, his balls hitting your ass with every thrust. “Gonna fuck you. Been dreaming about it for years… thinking of– of making you cum all over me… putting my cum inside you… goddamn it.”

The table creaks as he fucks you, the radio tumbling to the floor with a loud clatter but Eddie can’t focus on any of it when he’s burying himself so deep inside you he can feel your throat contracting around him every time you moan. He wants to record your every sound, every little “uh uh” you make so he can listen to them at night while he touches himself to this memory.

His stomach burns and twists, fingers digging into your skin with bruising strength as he forces you back and forth on his cock. You can tell he’s getting close. Can smell his scent get sweeter and sweeter the closer the coil in his stomach gets to snapping in half.

This is your chance.

Your hands frame his scrunched up face as you force him to look at you. “It’s okay,” your tone is soft, gentle. “You can cum now Eddie, it’s okay.”

Eddie looks pained as he shakes his head, cheeks red from embarrassment. “Want you to cum, too.”

You kiss from his cheek down to his jawline, smiling into his skin. “I already did remember? Now I want you to cum. Can you do that for me?”

“Okay. Okay.”

Your back scratches against the wood with every thrust, splinters digging into the skin between your shoulder blades and making you moan at the pleasurable pain. You graze your teeth over his straining neck, allowing them to grow sharper and longer. You open your mouth wide but, right before you can sink your fangs into the vein that’s popping out, calloused fingers grip your chin and pull you into a desperate kiss.

You’re wide eyed as Eddie licks into your mouth, groans of pleasure mixing with whimpers as he spills all of his cum inside you. He loses his rhythm, rutting into you like a dog, cock twitching and painting your insides white.

“I’m sorry,” he pants, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t– you felt so good–”

You don’t know why you do it, really. You should just kick him off you and tear a piece of his side. But he did something to you, somehow managed to satiate your appetite without losing his life, so instead of twisting his arm and pushing him to the floor, you pet the back of his hair and repeat your previous words. “It’s okay.”

Eddie’s chuckle is muffled. “That’s the last thing a guy wants to hear after sex, you know. Or during.”

“W-well, it’s the truth,” you fumble. You’ve never comforted someone besides Chrissy, but she just cried and complained, not expecting any reassurances from you. “You can just make it up to me next time.”

Eddie wonders if you’ve always been this sweet deep down. There had to be a reason why Cunnigham liked you, after all. “Next time?” he asks, hoping his hearing was working correctly.

You’re going to grow hungry eventually. If you can’t eat him then you’ll have him do whatever he did to you tonight to keep you full.

“Yeah, next time.”

You’re going to keep him forever.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

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Those Summer Nights

Eddie Munson x Reader

2.7k Words

Summary: Maybe Eddie’s not quite ready to high-tail it out of Hawkins after all. A night at the carnival could change his mind.

I just want Eddie to be happy. He deserves it.

The carnival lights were blinding, flashing red and yellow across the row of games and rides. The summer heat lingered in the air even as the sun was setting. But it was comfortable, the humidity hanging onto the attendees like a long-lost friend.

It was the official start of Summer in Hawkins, Indiana.

Jocks wore their letterman jackets to show off their new pins, and off in the distance, cheerleaders were piling out of one of their mom’s Volvos. They were primped and beaming with excitement. It was one last attempt to start a fling to last the summer.

Children were screaming and laughing, running around the open fields and the hay maze with their parents were running after them, losing their snow cones in the chase. The air smelled like popcorn and sugar.

And for the first Friday night all year, Hellfire Club wasn’t sitting in a back room at Hawkins High.

Keep reading

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fic

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

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i am begging you all to stop treating this site like instagram if you dont want it to be content free by next year

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

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‼️ support ‼️ ur ‼️content ‼️ creators‼️and ‼️fic ‼️authors ‼️ by ‼️ reblogging ‼️ and ‼️ stop ‼️ treating ‼️ this ‼️ site ‼️ like ‼️ instagram ‼️

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

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please please keep eddie alive for “billys girl”? i’m gutted. i’m devastated. i’ve literally never been so hurt over a fictional death and i NEED to see happiness from eddie 💞

I was not planning on killing him in my series. 😭 however, the duffer brothers and I have mad beef. This is my villain origin story.

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

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S04E01: Chapter One “The Hellfire Club” S04E09: Chapter Nine “The Piggyback”

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

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late bloomer, part 2

eddie munson x reader

prompt: eddie befriends a cheerleader who's a bit of a ' late bloomer' (part one)

warning: underage drinking (eddie is 20, the reader is 19), cursing, smut (18+)

please read the author's note after the story :) enjoy!

Late Bloomer, my ass.

After having sex with Eddie Munson, leader of Hellfire, you don’t think you’ve ever been more revved up. After your initial interaction, he consumed every thought, how caring and attentive he was. The way his hair practically destroyed you as he thrust above you with his necklaces tracing down your heaving chest. His mouth, his mouth, HIS MOUTH. If you thought hard enough, you could feel his plush lips trail across your neck, your stomach, and somewhere even more sensitive than before. If sex was even half as good as last week, you would die happy.

The problem was that you hadn’t spoken since he held you in his arms and said, “But seriously, yes, we can do this whenever you want, princess.” The way he called you princess had you weak in the knees, even when you saw him in the stands on Friday, the day after, made you want to jump his bones. Although, every time you attempted to speak with him, he walked the other way. Trying to blame it on coincidence, it became less believable when he would make direct eye contact and immediately disappear from your eyesight. You tried to figure out his interests, asking your friends' little brothers about Dungeons and Dragons, buying an Ozzy record, and even head banging. (The latter ended with you hitting your head on your bedside table.) Your cheer squad noticed something was off, especially Anne who had asked you to go to the drug deal at the sleepover, dragging you by the arm during lunch that Wednesday.

“Girl, are you okay? After this weekend, you’ve seemed really upset.” She asked, leaning against the wall of the girls bathroom, fiddling with her chipped pink nails. You sighed, glancing around at the softly lit bathroom, quiet as you stood there alone. Your eyes finally met Annes that showed nothing but concern, helping to ease your nerves. You weren’t ashamed to have slept with Eddie, the only reason you hadn’t told anyone was because you normally just kept to yourself, which was even more important due to the uncertainty of your relationship with the metal head. He had been quiet lately, he hadn’t even been messing with Jason and the other annoying basketball players and that made your throat constrict.

“Yeah, I guess, I slept with Eddie Munson.” You whispered, her eyes going large with no words leaving her mouth. You weren’t sure why you chose to tell Anne, maybe because she couldn’t be too cruel, given she knew Eddie and was friendly with him, as well as knowing your virgin status. “He was your first?” She finally peeped, a blush crawling up your neck as you nodded, staring at the ground. You still prepared for the worst, truthfully, awaiting her scolds and a vicious dissection of Eddie’s character and morals. But she squealed. Squealed. Anne wrapped her arms around you, making you laugh as someone walked into the bathroom, quickly making it to the stall when you both met their eyes.

“I mean, shit, was it good? I know it was painful for me the first time, just had to get adjusted.” She confided, making you relax at her own exposure, feeling less worried about the ache during and after. You nodded, sparing the inner details that you weren’t completely ready to reveal. “Atta girl, guess you have me to thank.” She jokingly swooshed her hair, laughing and walking you out into the hallway. She suggested heading to the entrance, a tree with room to sit under so you could finish your lunch and gossip without peering ears. As you walked through the practically empty walkways, your eyes passed the Hellfire room, lingering on the swoosh of a brown mane littered with curls. You heard his booming laugh as he talked with Gareth, none the wiser you passed.

“So if it was such a good time, why are you being mopey?” Anne asked, taking a bite of her rice, packed neatly in her bento box. You opened your own lunch, opting for apple slices, “Well, our first game of the season, he was there.” You began, “Oh yeah! I saw him there, I can’t even think of another time he was in the bleachers, except for two years ago when he let those baby frogs loose for his first senior prank.” You laughed at the memory, you never knew it was Eddie who conducted it, but you should’ve guessed. Not many people would let out frogs, that you know of.

“So the night before, he told me we should do it again sometime, we even fell asleep in my bed! After our halftime performance, he left since that’s all we were doing for the night, and he's been avoiding me ever since.” You moped, snapping the fruit in your mouth and munching. She nodded, “Do you think you intimidate him?” You choked, having a hard time believing anyone like Eddie Munson would be intimidated by a girl who couldn’t ride a bike until she was 17.

“No, seriously! If he tried getting with you again, he would, likely, have to do it in a public spot. You don’t hang around the woods or outside after school. You go to school, cheer practice and go home. So maybe it’s not just you, it's everything that surrounds you. It's forbidden, like Romeo and Juilet!” She ended her rant with a gasp, indulging in the idea of a romance worth the ages. But you weren’t sure. “Do you think it’s cause I was a virgin? I did, uh, cry and beg. He said it was fine, but I was embarrassed.” You scratched your neck, imagining the hickies that faded from your collarbone too quickly were still there. You felt fire beneath your skin, wanting any reason for his coarse hands to touch you.

“I mean, I don’t know. If you think he was into it, I wouldn’t think too much about it, Eddie’s a nice guy. A bit strange, but I don’t think he would intentionally leave you hanging.” She said gently, unsure how to comfort you with so little information. The lunch bell rang, your shoulders sinking as she stood, helping you up. “I’m here if you need anything, babe. I got your back.” Anne slung her arm over your shoulder, your head meeting hers, “Thanks, maybe I should just talk to him?”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

–

The days went by slowly as you dissected every moment, movement and breath you took that Thursday night last week. It had been eight days and yet you still felt him, it was bordering obsessive. When you made it home after the game on Friday, you started a bath and stripped before soaking in the hot water. No matter how many times you bathed, you felt him. Maybe it was just because he was your first, that if you just got with someone else, it would go away. Your mind racked through the other guys in Hawkins as only your face stuck out of the water.

Bill? No, he consistently ate tuna salad for lunch everyday. Zeke? No, he used 3 in 1 shampoo, only knowing that because you used his bathroom at a house party. You could see the pile of cum tissues overfilling his small trash can with random beer cans over top, shuddering at the memory. Kyle? No, never a guy named Kyle. Your thoughts were interrupted when the phone rang, wiping the right side of your face dry and pressing it to your ear.

“Wanna go out tonight?” Anne blurted out, glad your parents couldn’t be overhearing the call as they were out of town for business again. You weighed your options of staying home, drinking wine from the bottle while watching Casablanca or going to a party with a bunch of your peers, just to go home and do the previous after getting bored. Anne’s voice came back at your silence, “It’s at Chrissy’s to celebrate the big win, her parents are away and it should be low-key. Maybe we can find someone to help you forget about Eddie.”

“Okat, but I’ll leave if it gets boring.” You said, twirling the wire between your wet fingers as you were hanging up. You dried off, reapplying your makeup lightly before grabbing some clothes. You glanced at your pile of dirty laundry, sorting through any that wasn’t too dirty until you came across one of Eddie’s handkerchiefs, realizing it must have come out of his pants when he pushed them down. It smelled like cheap cigarettes and laundry detergent, if it had been anyone but him, you would’ve cringed. Shaking off the thought, you brainstormed different guys you could have sex with. It was okay to branch out, half of the squad slept with different guys, it didn’t matter if you wanted to join the fun. You ran down the stairs after deciding on a skirt and a tight shirt that showed off your figure. You took a shot for courage and headed on your way.

—

“Heyy!” Chrissy called as you walked in the door, engulfing you in a hug as if she hadn’t seen you in days. But that’s just how Chrissy was. She had a heart too big for her own good, you could tell because she dated guys like Jason who didn’t deserve even a minute of her time.

“Hey Chris” You replied, releasing from the embrace to find a drink, scanning the room for a familiar face. While you knew all of them, you weren’t as attached to them, not enough to want to spend the rest of the night listening to them speak. The fruit punch stung as it ran down your throat, grabbing a couple pretzels and walking to the living room. Anne was underneath her boyfriend, David, but she rushed to you as he was too interested in talking to the fellow basketball players.

“Alright, who’s on the list tonight.” She whispered, shaking an arm against yours suggestively. You shrugged, still trying to find anyone remotely endearing, but as the party lulled on, you were losing hope. The girls eventually found their boyfriends or fuck buddies, leaving you with the single guys from the lacrosse team who fake wrestled at random moments. They would ask you questions about being on cheer, but they usually ended up suggestive. Making comments about your skirt hiking up, your chest bouncing on jumps, and they especially enjoyed the splits. It, truthfully, made you feel sick, but it was your only source of entertainment until you could sit peacefully at home watching Ingrid Bergman and Humprhy Bogart fall in love. You ended up wandering around the house, mindlessly looking at baby pictures of Chrissy and her parents. Muffled music and moans from various places took up most of your thoughts, you called out for Anne, to let her know you were throwing in the towel. You finally reached Anne in the home office, but she wasn’t alone, Eddie was there with his black pail.

“Oh my God, hey! I needed bud.” She sloppily sang, grabbing the baggie and shoved it in her pocket. Eddie’s eyes instantly met yours as Anne walked out, beginning a stare off as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Now that you were finally in his presence, alone, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to fight him or kiss him. He finally smiled, sitting on the desk covered in papers and placed his hands on his knees. The stance alone made you want to get on the ground, but you couldn’t give in that fast, he just ignored you for a week after being the first guy you slept with.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” You whispered, the alcohol in your system making it hard to suppress all your emotions, a look of disappointment painting your features as you stepped towards him. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out last week for being so, uh, emotional. It probably didn’t help that I kept trying to walk up to you and, um, staring at you. I can leave you alone now, I guess I just felt a little led on. Especially since you went to the game last week.” You stuttered, his eyes softening as you spoke and stood between his knees.

“Listen, I’m sorry, I had an amazing time last week, and your cheer, dance, thingy was great. I was glad I went. I guess I was just nervous.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling his head get lighter. “I just figured you wouldn’t want me coming up to you, being an outcast and all.”

Unknown to you, Eddie had been desperate to come up to you, thinking of you just as much as you thought of him. After the game, not really after since he left after halftime, he couldn’t hide the dirty smirks as he thought about your skirt slightly kicking up. He couldn’t believe the same girl had been underneath him less than a day ago, begging for him, dancing for the whole school. His mind got the best of him, not knowing how to come up to you. He kept an eye on you in the halls, but didn’t dare get too close, maybe he liked the edge. A hidden romance was alluring.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he absorbed you. Your piercing eyes, filled with need and shyness at the same time. Your lips felt so gentle in comparison to his rushed set. Hell, he felt like a pervert for how many times he imagined you on top of him, tits bouncing, or even under, where he felt so protective of you. He was losing his damn mind.

“Eddie, I don’t give a shit. The cheerleader girls aren’t as vicious as you think, I swear. Some aren’t great, besides it's mainly just the boys though and I don’t like them either. Besides the point, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” You replied, watching him smile at your conclusion, placing his hands on his hips in pride. He didn’t feel as perverted, he knew what you meant by those words, especially when your lips inched closer. As he leaned in, your eyes fluttered shut, “If you kiss me, please don’t avoid me again.” The words pierced through him, nodding and pulling you in. His mouth tasted of vodka, intoxicating you as you whined. This whole week you had been waiting for this, the moment his lips met yours, still conforming to how it was like to engage this way with someone. He moved to your neck, nipping gently at the area on your collarbone that he knew drove you crazy. He was glad he had a drink himself to loosen up and be bold enough to make out with you in Chrissy Cunningham’s Fathers office. As his warm hand reached your naval, you paused and took in a breath, remembering how anyone could easily find you two. You grabbed his hand, pulling him forward and through the doors. While everyone was too busy doing their own thing, the two of you slipped out, finding your way to his van.

“My parents aren’t home this weekend either, they have a business conference, if you want to…” You trailed off, bashful and fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He smiled, revving his van to drive to a location he was happy to return to. “You’re cute when you do that, fiddling with your skirt as if I haven't been shoved up your-” He was cut off by your gasp, smacking his arm as he giggled, hand grabbing your thigh. His rings felt soothing against your skin, wishing he could squeeze as hard as he could to leave an imprint, he saw your gaze fixated on them and tapped them lightly up. To his pleasant surprise, you didn’t push away and play coy, oh no, you sighed. A breathy, needy, blissful sigh that made Eddie’s pants constrict. As they made their way up, he felt your slick through your panties, making him groan, pulling them to the side and stroking through your folds. Your whimpers escaped, finding no reason to hide how much you wanted, no, needed him. At this point, if he pulled you over and fucked you on the side of the road, you wouldn’t care. He raised his hand to his mouth, sucking them and letting them release with a pop. “Fuck, could live off this pussy.”

You leaned over, beginning to kiss down his neck, rubbing his crotch. Both hands flew to the wheel to steady himself, your wet mouth trailing down his arm. You unbuckled his belt, undoing the zipper where he bulged out, hissing at the sudden feeling. You traced the same veins you felt inside you, now just through thin fabric, but right before your hands dipped down, you pulled up to your house. Without words, you both ran inside, slamming the door where he pushed your body against it. Kissing you fiercely, he moaned as your hand found its rightful place at his crotch, “Can I please have you in my mouth?” Oh, how he wanted to ruin that sweet mouth of yours.

“Go for it, pretty girl.” He began as you sank to your knees and let him free, mouth watering at the sight, “Ever since we fucked, I thought about how good you were. Worshiping my cock, wanting more even if it hurts.” You placed his head on your tongue, licking it timidly as he relaxed. Broadening his stance, he watched as you placed it in your mouth, sucking it with your hand taking his base and the other cupping his balls. His head tilted back, relishing in your warm mouth. You gauged your tempo on his reactions, stringing him along to make the moans louder and elongated. “Shit, you’re so good at this, can I put my hands-” He asked, placing his hands in your hair as you fluttered your eyelashes, pressing him further down your throat. He helped guide you, trying his best to not flick his hips forward and make you uncomfortable.

“We should probably stop now so I don’t come down your throat.” He laughed as you whined, helping you up and kissing you. The thought of him tasting himself on your lips riled you up more than you cared to admit. He dragged you to your bedroom at the top of the stairs, flying the door open and continuing his rampage on your mouth. When you fell onto the bed, you yelped at a sharp pain on your back, Eddie’s eyes widening with concern, “Are you o-”

“Fine! Fine!” You replied, flustered as you remembered what caused the discomfort, the Ozzy Osbourne vinyl you bought sat in its sleeve on your bed as you played it before you fell asleep last night. His eyebrow raised as his hand shoved under your back, reaching the cardboard and pulling it to the side.

“No. Fuckin. Way.” He snickered, sitting beside you and looking at the album, The Ultimate Sin. It was brand new, had just come out this week, and he studied the peace of magic beneath his fingers. “Why do you have this, doll?” He said breathlessly, your body rising to look at him, “I wanted to see if we had similar interests, it’s a great album, honestly. I still prefer Hall and Oates though.” He rolled his eyes, “I’m ignoring that last comment and going to stay in awe.” He looked at you, smiling wide after he read the song titles listed on the back.

“Want to know what’s worse?” You said, feeling less embarrassed at your attempts to understand him, he looked up in boyish wonder as you handed him a sheet of paper, one that explained the rules and instructions to a standard DnD game. His mouth flung open, standing above him while biting your lip. “My friend Nancy said her brother was in Hellfire, I got her to get the rules and stuff so I could try talking to you about it. Lame of me, I’m aware”

Without hesitation he hustled you to his lap, kissing you as you stifled a laugh, “You don’t realize what kind of commitment you just signed up for, princess.” He grinned, setting the materials on the ground before flipping you on your back, “I never want my mouth to leave yours-” He murmured, “Your lips taste like strawberries.” Your hands raked his back, going under his shirt to feel as much skin as possible. “For the love of God, take your clothes off.” You breathed, the same mischievous smirk you remembered appeared on his lips, sitting up to fling off his top. You whimpered at his chest, not being able to resist drawing your tongue against his ink, feeling his stomach clench, not expecting your boldness, but relishing in it. He stood up to drag his pants off, throwing them on your face, “Eddieeee!”

After he pulled away his pants, he grabbed your shirt, tossing it to the side to reveal your bare breasts and wasted no time connecting his mouth to them. His hand grasped the other one, your mouth hanging open with small noises leaving them, kissing down your stomach. Your hands stopped him as you looked into his eyes. “I need you now.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He purred, yanking his boxers down as his cock bobbed. He reached for his pant pocket, grabbing the gold foil, “The only reason I even bought more was because I was hoping I’d get to fuck you again. Maybe somewhere romantic like science class.” Your laugh ejected through the room as you tried to even imagine having sex anywhere in school, it felt too exposed. “I bet, I know how Mrs. Fran gets you riled up.” You bantered, Mrs. Fran being a 70 year old woman who hated all her students, but was just a year away from retiring. He gagged before yanking down his condom and stroking it a few times, his eyes flickering to your skirt clad waist. He bunched up the fabric, pulling your heart panties that made his own heart warm. You looked so beautiful in front of him, spreading your legs as he hovered on top of you.

“I can’t believe you’re back here with me.” You said, astonished as his hand tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “The feelings are mutual.” He chirped, reaching his hand down to guide himself into you, the same gasp leaving your mouth one week earlier. He could get drunk off your noises, so meek and quiet, like if he pulled right up, he wouldn’t hear them. He sunk deeper in, your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure, giggling. He glanced at you, tilting his head to the side as you moaned again, being cut off by another laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m just so happy, they keep coming out.” You announced sheepishly, making a particular fast thrust resulting in your whine and smile.

“You’re gonna kill me, kid.” He uttered in amazement, kissing you again with your hands meeting his hair. His thrusts thrummed, slowly relaxing around him to enjoy the intrusion more. His grunts and whimpers were like music to your ears, finding solace at his comfort in your body. His hand met your breast once more, fiddling with your nipple in his fingers as you sighed, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Can we try a different position?” You inquired, pulling away from his lips as he nodded, listening attentively to your next suggestion. While you had control, he was still dominating you and knew whatever position it occurred, he’d find a way to make you feel like jello.

“Maybe, on my stomach?” You suggested, rolling over as he sat on his hunches, watching your bare bottom peak beneath your white skirt. His hand grazed your ass, grasping it firmly and smacking it. A sniffle rose up your throat as he rubbed the sensitive skin, guiding his cock to rub where you needed him most. “Alright, sweet girl, this is gonna feel more intense. You let me know if anything feels uncomfortable.” He cooed, finally slipping into you and, shit, he was right. His hands stamped beside your head, thrusting leisurely as you adjusted to the new connection. You’ve never felt so full, encompassed by him no matter where you looked as his hair reached your peripherals. You bit your lip to stifle the moans clawing to escape, trying to hold onto some of your dignity. Eddie didn’t give a fuck about dignity in this instance.

“Uh-uh, let it out, sweet girl. Ah, there she is, so good for me.” He praised as his thumb pulled your bottom lip free, satisfied with the uncontrollable sounds. As his pace quickened, he thought he was seeing stars, your body fit perfectly around him and squeezed him into a mess. He could stay within your walls for hours if he could, but his orgasm was approaching, thankfully this new position was also pushing you to the limit.

“I missed this pretty, little cunt all week.” He panted, putting his chest against your back as you shivered, feeling him bottom out. “Don’t want anyone else touching this cunt, you understand?” You nodded, tears streaming down your face in pleasure as he reached a hand down to shift your hips upwards, giving him access to your neglected bundle of nerves. As his fingers rubbed against your clit, you began to shake, losing control. “Eddie, I’m gonna come, please.” You weeped, his pace gaining traction again as he reached your deepest spot, telling you to let it out. A warm blush spread across your chest, releasing onto his dick as your mind went blank as you fell against the sheets. You whined as he picked up his pace, trying to reach his own finish, kissing your head, “I know, I know, it’s okay. I’m almost there, baby.” His final pet name was caught in his throat as he came into the condom, shouting obscenities while falling on top of your body.

Your heavy breathing filled the room as you recollected yourselves, your mind not cooperating as you wanted to say anything to him. You’re not sure what, but anything to get him speaking in his gruff, post-sex voice again. He lifted off you, pulling his condom off and throwing it in the trash. He watched as you slipped your skirt off, stretching your back with a pop. He grabbed a rag from your bathroom, settling between your thighs. He greedily took a lick, making you squirm, but cleaned you up gently. He threw the towel to the side, crawling up to look into your eyes, pulling you on top of his chest. Your fingers traced his tattoos, chills erupting from his skin as his breaths moved you up and down. “I really like you, Eddie.” You murmured, looking up at his dazed eyes, “I really like you too, princess.”

“Maybe I could take you on a date sometime? You really sealed the deal with the Ozzy record.” He chuckled with a wink, wrapping his arms tighter around you. You could’ve stayed like this forever, his fingers drawing various shapes on your back and making small talk. “Sounds good, maybe you can show me how to play Dungeons and Dragons, Mr. Dungeon Master.” You teased him, watching as he rolled his eyes.Before you even knew it, an hour had passed with small talk and laughter. You talked about school, his band, friends, and anything that came into your minds. Eddie ended up spending the night unintentionally after you fell asleep on top of him, but he didn’t think there was anywhere else he’d rather be.

—

“I knew it!” Anne yelled, running up from behind you and hugging you, “I saw you were gone at the party Friday, I knew it!” You smiled, hand holding Eddie’s tighter as he stood, maybe even a tad bashfully. Anne smiled at him, pulling him into an unexpected hug, to which he let out an oof. During your date on Saturday, Eddie asked you officially in a very ‘him’ fashion when you offered for him to keep the Ozzy vinyl, “That settles it, we’re dating now, you’re stuck with me.”

The occasional grimace or state of confusion greeted you through the halls, knowing most didn’t even speak to Eddie and wouldn’t give him the time of day either. With a bouncing Anne beside you, she talked about the party and how David got cross faded and threw up on Chrissy’s rug. As you approached your first class, he kissed your cheek, “Alright, princess, see you after class.” He smiled, the nickname making your cheeks flush due to how he usually had you in a more compromised position when he used it.

“You’re such a gentleman, Munson. A cheek kiss and sending me on my way.” You giggled, fixing his jacket collar with both hands, giving him a chance to grab a handful of your backside quickly as you shooed him away. “Nevermind! Nevermind.” You scooted back as he leaned in , kissing you before sauntering off. As you walked into class, Chrissy sat with her mouth wide open in a smile, clearly having seen your kiss from the window in the door. As you walked passed her, she stuck out a hand below desk level for a high-five, “Nice job, Ms. Late Bloomer.”

author's note: hi friends! thank you so much for the feedback on part one, i didn't even intend for this to have a second part, but i was in awe at the requests! again, please feel free to leave feedback and requests. have a beautiful day!

(tagging below those who responded to my part one, a special thanks to you lovely people. @iheartyouyou , @jessyballet , @yourthebrokengirl , @wiltedwonderland and @petertinglesforbread )

#crimson's recs #eddie munson

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

Text

Late Bloomer

eddie munson x reader

prompt: eddie befriends a cheerleader who’s a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ part one, part two

warnings: cussing, smut, virginity (minors go away)

word count: 4k

Late Bloomer.

That’s what the other girls in your cheer squad said about your romantic life, “Oh don’t worry about it babe, it’ll happen eventually, you’re just a late bloomer.” It drove you insane that no matter how strongly you yearned for a boyfriend, it never happened. You found almost all the men in Hawkins gross, not in a mean way, but if they ever advanced on you, you shied away. You hated that you couldn’t just swallow your insecurity and pounce on one of the annoying football players, desperate for a fairytale where they married their high school sweetheart who was a cheerleader. What added to the sting is you were older than them, already 19 in senior year due to being held back a grade in elementary school for not grasping reading. This was a common fact as it seemed everyone knew everyone's business in this town, another reason to not want to sleep with the first guy available.

It all came to a tipping point at the annual cheer sleepover, held every year at the head cheerleaders house, the night before the first game of the season. It started innocently enough, all the things you’d imagine cheerleaders did during a night in. Facials, eating popcorn, painting nails, and then someone had to open their damn mouth. “So someone over here had a fling with Joeee.” Penelope sang, pointing her thumb at Rachel who began blushing profusely as the other girls gasped, including yourself. Joe was the ‘hottest’ guy in school, being athletic, kind, and rich, he was bound to get with someone from the squad, but not Rachel. She was beautiful, so it shouldn’t have been a shock, but what you did know was something slightly more selfish, she was the only other virgin on the varsity team.

“Get outta here! Did you go to his house?” Chrissy, the head cheerleader, whispered as Rachel nodded followed by not subtle shrieking. What really caused the blow up was when she pulled her oversized t-shirt up to her lower bust, exposing her stomach of hickies. “I told him not on my neck because of the game, so he got creative.” Rachel smiled, letting her shirt fall down as the girls pestered her about the details, making sure she used protection, and if it was official. You hated that this made you jealous, but you couldn’t help it, especially when a comment was made about how “It was about time you got laid! Took you long enough.” Penelope’s eyes flickered to you, indicating she was the one who let the sharp words tumble out, “Shit, I’m sorry, I totally forgot-” But you cut her off, “Hey! It’s okay, I’m a late bloomer, that’s all.” You wanted to punch yourself in the face. A gentle hand touched your thigh when the attention left you, glancing at Anne, the quietest girl in the room.

“I have to run an errand, wanna come?” She asked, standing to grab her varsity sweater as you followed, knowing you needed fresh air. Both of you slipped out with not much protest as they felt bad at unintentionally singling you out, which you knew the girls meant well and that they weren’t the vicious stereotype they were painted to be. You walked down the street in silence, making your way through a field as a shortcut. “Do you smoke?” Anne broke your daze, looking up at her face that only glanced briefly at yours before looking to where they were heading.

“Sometimes, more socially. Also where are we going?” You asked as you made your way into the forest behind your school, the breeze becoming more steady, reminding you that you only wore shorts and a sweater. With chills coming up your spine and before Anne could say where they were going, a voice boomed to your side.

“If it isn’t my favorite client.”

Eddie Munson sat on the edge of the wooden picnic table in the center of the woods, black pail in hand with a cigarette in the other. Anne waved, approaching him as you froze in place. You had nothing against Eddie, only having classes with him occasionally where you mainly kept to yourself. Being at a drug deal was pretty risque for a cheerleader, especially the night before the first game of the season, except you weren’t a snitch.

“I don’t bite, sweetheart.” He said, making you laugh as you approached them, finding a seat at the picnic table. Anne was already working on rolling a joint, shockingly good at it before sealing it. She placed it between her lips, fishing her lighter out of her shorts pocket and lighting it, smoke flooding out. “Damn Anne, you’ve done this before, huh?” You smiled as she laughed, even Eddie butted in, “Yeah, she's seen me more than once.”

The three of you passed around the dope, becoming more relaxed than you had felt in months. Eddie asked what you two were up to tonight, Anne, stoned out of her mind, had words that didn’t slow due to her sublime state, “Cheerleader sleepover, this one got embarrassed for being the only one to not do the devil's tango-” “Anne!” You shrieked, covering your face as she realized her words, “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to say that, ignore what you just heard, Munson.”

Eddie, always the charmer, looked around at the vast dark space of the woods, “What do you hear something?” He stated, tumbling to an upward position as he looked through the bushes, shuffling through the brown and green leaves. Giggles abrupt from your lips, feeling less embarrassed about the ordeal, taking the final hit of the shared joint and putting it out. He jumped around various plants before sauntering over to you both, sitting on the opposing bench, “Now that the coast is clear, how much are you buying, sweetheart?”

While the name wasn’t directed at you, the title made you blush with Anne casually stating how much she’d need to make it through another exam week. You watched as his ring clad fingers fumbled with the bud, looking at the various baggies with small weights written on them. You knew he played guitar, having heard his band play at a few bars in town and he was a talented guitarist. You could almost hear the song he covered playing in the background of your mind. Once the transaction was finished, he realized you two were walking back, “Do you guys want a ride back? It’s pretty dark? I can even drop you off down the street so they don’t see my van” You thanked him, following Anne into his car that smelled even stronger of hemp than the actual drug did. Anne began going off about how she didn’t want to go back to the sleepover since the other girls were probably in bed right now, “It’s so stupid that they do this every year and go to sleep by 10:30! I get not doing an all-nighter, we don't need anyone falling during the pyramid, but still! Can you just drop me off at home? I’ll just say I didn’t feel well.”

As her complaints persisted from the front seat, you noticed Eddie’s eyes occasionally flickering to yours in the mirror, thinking it was just in your head until he winked at you. You focused your attention on the landscape outside, realizing you were on Anne’s quiet street and that he had actually been listening to her thoroughly. She said a quick thank you, leaning to the backseat to do a mutual cheek kiss before walking down the dim lit road.

“Alright, so where to?” He asked, tapping his fingers mindlessly to the beat of the song quietly playing from the radio. “Thanks for the ride, I can walk from here.” But this just made him turn in his chair, eyebrow raised, “I mean, call me a gentleman, but I don’t feel great making a girl walk home by herself in the middle of the night. Hop in the front.” For some reason, you obeyed, exiting the back to the front, telling him your address that was a few miles away. You rode in awkward silence, which you didn’t think was possible for a man with his comedic timing. Your thoughts drifted to earlier that night when the girls found out about Rachel and Joe, the way they lit up at the juicy details. Your skin crawled at Chrissy’s sad eyes meeting yours, mouthing “It’s okay.” While said out of love, it made you feel smaller than before, like you weren’t reaching your full potential, which you knew deep down was bullshit.

“Eddie, what would you rate me from 1 to 10?” You asked abruptly as he jumped slightly at the sudden voice, but also the question. “I am not answering that, no fuckin’ way.” He said, eyes going wider than you thought possible as he gripped the steering wheel. You whined, crossing your arms as you shifted in your seat to face him.

“C’mon Eddie, please! I need a guy's input and from one that doesn’t annoy me everytime he speaks.” His laugh filled the van as he stopped on the backroad, surrounded by trees. You were high enough to release some inhibitions, but not high enough to not mean what you were saying. He faced towards you, resting his face on his fist, making a thinking sound, “What am I exactly rating you on, princess?”

“I don’t know! Anything? Do you like my smile? My personality? Hell, even my tits? Just something!” You gasped, a devious smile resting on his lips with his blush not going unnoticed, feeling a bit thrown off from your outburst. “Well I’ll just say to start off, all are great, some things more than others,” He winked as you rolled your eyes, “But I’m not rating you, though your desperation is cute.” You sighed at his words, cupping your face in your hands, palms digging to your eyes.

“I’m-Ugh I’m not desperate, I’m just over being a virgin! Why does everyone in this town suck!” You expressed, flailing your arms beside you, “I mean, some swallow, if that makes you feel better?” Which made you laugh, glancing over at him as he rubbed his hands on his jean clad thighs. “In all seriousness, if you want it, just go for it. Most of the guys suck, especially the ones who go out for football, but you’re pretty and smart and worthy of having a nice first time, okay? So I’m not rating you and if any guy says he will, punch them.” He concluded, staring in your eyes seriously, not knowing he practically soaked your panties from the amount of respect he had for you. He didn’t belittle your needs, didn’t try to convince you the guys didn’t suck and you just needed to open up more. No, he heard you, he actually listened and understood. You cupped your hands around his jaw, “Can I kiss you, please?” The words falling from your lips softer than intended, but Eddie could tell you were serious and he didn’t want to pull away either. He cupped your face and gently kissed your lips, allowing your hands to fall in your lap. His lips felt like pillows with his teeth capturing your bottom lip, a moan coming from you to grant him more access.

You thought Eddie was always cute and respectful, a bit of a freak in the best way, and you just couldn’t believe it was him who you’d feel comfortable enough with first. Most guys would’ve started hitting on you the moment you mentioned sex, but he didn’t, you even knew that this kiss wouldn’t have happened unless you had initiated it. Eddie was slowly taking control as his lips moved hasiter against yours, only pulling away in a sharp breath as he realized your location.

“You wanna come to my place?”

----

You had never been more grateful that your parents were out of town for the week as Eddie pulled into your driveway. The ride there wasn’t as tense as you thought, mainly just banter about miscellaneous topics, which helped keep your nerves at bay, and making sure he didn’t get lost.

You grabbed your keys and walked to the front door, Eddie hot on your tail after locking the van. You turned on a light or two, greeting your small black cat, Luna. She scurried away after the initial greeting as you walked Eddie into your kitchen, grabbing a water to soothe your burning throat from the weed and nerves. You offered him a drink, but he took his time observing the scenery, “We can go up to my room if you want?”

He followed you quietly, taking time to notice all the details of your messy room, before you sat on the bed, looking up at him. He glided over, cupping your face once more to kiss you deeply before pulling off his signature Hellfire shirt. You stared at his decorated skin, wanting to trace the ink engraved to his body as you laid down beneath him. He worked his way down your neck, finding a soft spot on your collarbone that made you moan, feeling him smile against the delicate skin. You were getting impatient, grabbing your sweater and slipping it off to reveal your plain bra, quickly flinging that away too. His eyes scanned your chest, tongue sticking out as he saw your nipples, scooping down to suck on them.

“Fuck Eddie.” You whimpered, feeling his hands trail down your naval, shivering at his cold rings. He stood up, yanking his pants down to expose his black boxers, his cock already alert. You swallowed harshly as he gripped the sides of your panties and shorts, “Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes flickered to his, containing an emotion you couldn’t make out just yet.

“I need you to be honest with me, okay? Do you want this?” You nodded, “If at any time you want to stop, tell me. Even if it's on the brink of no return, we’ll stop, it’s never too late to change your mind. I won’t be mad.” He said in a low whisper, your profuse nodding not being enough, you had to be vocal. “I want this, Eddie, there’s no one else I’d rather do this with.”

With that, he yanked your last articles of clothing off, spreading your legs to see your soaking center, “Fuck me.” He mumbled, kneeling on the floor to put his face in front of your most vulnerable area, squirming when he had yet to touch you. “Sh, all in good time, just want to look.” His finger brushed your lips, spreading to find your clit and kissing it, your other hand gripping your waist to hold you still. Your weepy hole was glistening in the shining moonlight, he wished he could hang it in a personal art museum. He was barely touching you and had you falling apart.

“You look so pretty like this, all spread out for me.” He breathed, working his other fingers inside of you, the sudden intrusion making you clench and grab the hand that held your hip. He laced his fingers in yours, still pressing it against where it had been previously for stability. His tongue flicked the bundle of nerves that ached to be attended to, his slender hands finding your g-spot within seconds. He quickened his pace as he realized you were reaching your climax, not wanting to tease you your first time finishing with company. He swapped his mouth and fingers, sucking on your hole to catch the sweet release that flowed out shortly after accompanied by your moans. He glanced up at your blissed face cumming and decided it was the 8th wonder of the world. He climbed on top of you, resting his weight on his arm with his other occupied with your laced fingers.

“That felt good, sweet girl?” Your eyes still clenched as you nodded, finally opening them to look at him. His chin was glistening with your release which could’ve made you come all over again in itself, but you crashed your lips into his, wasting no time to build intensity. He quickly took control of the tempo, grunting as you sunk deeper into the bed, legs wrapping around his clothed waist. You used your feet to push them off, making him pull away with a smile, “Someone’s resourceful!”

He sat up to reach for his pants, pulling out his wallet to grab the spare condom he kept for backup, despite not getting any in over a year. It was hard to keep his composure as he slid the latex over himself, stroking while biting his lip. He would’ve laughed if someone told him he’d be fucking a cheerleader by the end of the night, not only that, but one he always thought stood out. He always noticed you when he was forced to attend a rally or game, finding you exuded energy he couldn’t pinpoint. His eyes lingered on you when he walked down the hall or saw you outside of school, not even entertaining the thought of doing anything, but now that he was here. You laid in front of him, waiting for him to do anything to you to help soothe the need you had. He wishes he would’ve done it sooner.

“Alright, this can happen two ways tonight, princess. Do you want to be on top or on the bottom?” He gritted, containing his shaking voice, as your eyes stared in his. You shrugged, adjusting to close your legs as he stood, “Uh uh, words.” His command made you want to do whatever he wanted, whether it left you in bliss or tears. But you wanted to be a good partner, deciding starting on top might be more beneficial for him, though he was grateful for any position.

“I’ll go on top” Stuttering as you sat up, giving him room to lay beneath you, his upper half resting against pillows as he helped you get your shaking hips over his. His cock was pink and leaking, resting against his stomach in front of you, letting your finger trace the vein that guided all the way to the tip. He knew he wouldn’t last long, you were ruining him and you hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Spit.” He instructed, his ring clad hand that had just been deep in your pussy, shoved in front of your mouth as you followed his directions. He began stroking himself more as you lifted yourself, shuffling over where he ached. He glided his tip across your folds, letting his eyes flutter shut at the silk like feeling before getting stopped by your hole. He looked into your eyes as both your mouths fell open as you slowly fell down. A cry left your lips with your hands grabbing at his chest, making it half way before ceasing, tears falling down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, pretty girl, let it out.” He guided your chest against his, keeping eye contact that you kept attempting to break from shyness. He grabbed your hips, rocking you gently and hushing gently as you whimpered. “You’re doing so good, you’re taking me so well.” He cooed, making sure to be as gentle as possible, which didn’t go unnoticed. Your need surpassed your awareness, shoving yourself all the way with a shriek, feeling so full you began to shake.

“Hey! Hey, easy.” He scolded, lifting your hips towards the top, only keeping his tip in. He wiped the tears beneath your eyes, taking in your face that was a mix of pleasure and pain. “Are you okay?” You nodded, remembering what he said as you gumbled out an “I’m okay.” He nodded, sliding you off as you let out a pathetic noise that you wished never came out, but he didn’t flinch, just placing you on your back. His mouth found its way to your neck as he slid in again. He found your sensitive spot, sucking on it to distract from the unpleasant ache between your legs. He used his hands to push your knees up, taking a moment to raise upwards to look at you fall apart. "Fuck, you're so pretty."

You embraced the feeling of him thrusting inside you, mesmerized by the way the same veins you stroked moments ago were inside you, causing pleasure throughout your body. Eddie found himself pulling you down all the way and holding you there as you mewled. Fresh tears released from your eyes as you fondled your own breast, shaking. His eyes darkened, replacing your hands with his as he began to fondle your tits and picking up his pace. This didn’t last long before you pulled him against you, missing the weight of him and his lips on yours.

“Thank you. Thank you, Eddie, please. Oh my God.” You whimpered, continuing the mantra of gratitude as you found yourself nearing the end. He moaned so loud you were almost positive the neighbors heard, but you didn’t care. He never considered himself a man with a praise kink, but when a girl is not only begging for you, but thank you for fucking her? There’s only so much a man can take, especially when he felt you starving off your orgasm.

“Let it out, baby, come on. You feel so good, sweetheart, I’m right behind ya.” He growled, mouth pressed against the shell of your ear, nibbling. You weren’t strong enough to hold off any longer, falling apart in his arms as he finished in sync, thrusts shallowing out as he felt you constrict. The praises left your lips without hesitation, gripping onto his chest tightly with his arms returning just as tight. Your whimpers continued for a moment before a loud shaky breath, “I’m sorry for crying, that's so embarrassing.” You groaned, shifting beneath him as he pulled away from your neck, “Don’t you dare. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He stated, eyes boring into yours before pulling out and discarding his protection. He grabbed his boxers, pulling them on and grabbing his tee, handing it to you with raised eyebrows, making you blushed.

“Really, that’s what makes you flustered?” He teased, laying back down with your faces across from each other. Sitting in silence, you both studied each other, almost as if you looked long enough, you’d find out every emotion you just endured. He stroked your cheek affectionately, nudging into his broad palm, nipping at it playfully. As you came down from euphoria, your worries seeped through. What did this mean? Would this be a regular thing? Would he ever speak to you again? So many thoughts ruminated that it spread across your face, his eyebrows pinched with worry when you acknowledged your surroundings.

“Did you enjoy tonight?” You inquired as he made a shocked face before smiling, “Let’s just say that if you asked me to rate this, I’d break the fucking scale.” He chuckled, moving his hand to tickle your side, making you squeal and fling your body against him. “You’re such an asshole for that, Munson.” Silence filled the room as he held you against his chest, your bodies fitting like puzzle pieces beneath your sheets. “Can we do this again sometime?” Trailing off as you traced his various tattoos, hypnotized by his body and what it encapsulated. “Hell yeah, I’m always horny.” He joked, “But seriously, yes, we can do this whenever you want, princess.”

You didn’t expect yourself to have your first time with the guy you always admired from afar, but tonight you were engulfed in his arms, feeling safe and happy for once. As you jogged out on the field the next day, ignoring the soreness between your thighs, you spotted him in the stands where he never would have been previously. With a quick wink, he stood up and hollered as you couldn't contain your laughter. You could get used to this.

-----

hi! thank you for reading, eddie's my muse atm so please send in requests! feedback is always appreciated. have a great day!

#crimson's recs #eddie munson x reader

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

Text

. 🕯

🕯 🕯

EDDIE MUNSON

🕯 ALIVE AND 🕯

BACK FOR S5

🕯 🕯

. 🕯

2K notes · View notes

crimxonwrites · 2 years

Text

Bubblegum flavored kiss | fem!reader x Robin Buckley

♡ A/N: I am in love with Robin:) !! English is not my first language!! feel free to point out any spelling/grammar mistakes. Thanks

♡ Summary: During Steve Harrington’s birthday party, he introduces you to Robin Buckley, who also happens to love bubblegum flavored ice cream.

contains: slow burn?, fluff

warnings: smoking, drinking, swearing, billy being the worst brother in the world, mentions of mental illness and daddy issues

pairings: robin buckley x fem!reader, robin buckley x hargrove!reader, platonic!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

“Would it hurt if you slowed down a bit?” You cried, gripping the seatbelt.

Your brother scoffed and turned up the volume, your words fading as the music grows louder. Cursing under your breath, you open your purse and look for the cigarette pack. After a moment, you realize you left it home. “Shit.” You curse.

The car turns right as Billy stomps the pedal to the floor. You close your eyes and pray to every God you’ve ever studied about that your brother doesn’t kill you both. You open your eyes when he suddenly stops the car. If it wasn’t for the seatbelt, your head would have probably hit the window.

“You fucking maniac, you are going to kill us someday!” You scream at him, anxiety and anger fueling your body.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Billy mutters and slams the car door as he gets out, heading for the house full of drunk teenagers.

Almost ashamed you got out of the same car as Billy, you hurry up and enter the house. If the car doesn’t end up killing him, you swear you will someday. You watch him get lost in the crowd, being the usual menace that he is.

Thankful that Billy is not in your sight anymore, you enter the kitchen, feeling your body crave alcohol. “Hey, birthday boy!” You speak as soon as you see Steve Harrington.

“Hargrove, I’m assuming Billy is here too?” He asks as he pours some kind of alcohol in a red cup.

“Unfortunately.” You answer and he gives you the cup.

“Does he know his presence is unwanted?” Someone asks.

“Y/N, this is Robin Buckley. Robin, this is Y/N Hargrove.” Steve introduces you to her and you quickly down the alcohol from the red cup. Robin Buckley is breathtakingly beautiful, and you know you will need more than one drink in order to face her tonight.

After a moment of staring at her, she shakes your hand. Her touch is making your heart race faster than the speed of light. “Nice to meet you.” You speak as soon as the handshake is over.” Damn, Harrington, I didn’t know you were capable of moving on from Nancy this fast.” You continue, letting the jealousy speak for you as you notice the body language between the two. They seem awfully close.

“What? No, Steve and I are capital P platonic.” The girl says. “He is really not my type.” She adds and you watch Steve roll his eyes. “He is all yours.”

“Oh, no… He is not my type either.” You frown, making eye contact with Robin.

You try to read her expression, wondering if she picked up on your cryptic reply. Not wanting to freak her out, you turn towards the counter top and start pouring tequila in three shot glasses.

“Ouch.” Steve’s voice catches your attention. “I will let you know that just because you two find me repulsive, that doesn’t mean that the other girls in Hawkins do too.” He continues and you give him one glass as you hand Robin the other.

“Happy birthday, Harrington.” You say as the three of you simultaneously down the shots.

“Okay, it’s time for me to work my magic.” Steve says, eyeing some blonde girl from across the room. “You two have fun.”

Robin chuckles, making you smile. You try to not stare at her as she anxiously plays with her fingers, unable to find a conversation starter. Your smile fades as Billy enters the kitchen, throwing a beer cup on the floor. You really do not want to speak to him… or even be in his presence tonight.

“Hey, do you have a cigarette?” You ask Robin, anxiety making your body yearn for some nicotine.

“I don’t smoke.” She answers and you nervously shift your body away from Billy, who looks like he is about to approach the two of you. “But I do know a store pretty close by.” Robin grabs your arm before Billy can say anything to you.

You let Robin take the lead as the two of you start power walking through the crowd. She tightens her grip on your hand when you feel like you are about to lose her in between the drunk, sweaty teenagers. As you two are about to go through the front door, you look back and sigh out of relief when you notice Billy is nowhere to be seen. When you feel the cold air make contact with your hot body, you let go of her hand.

“Thanks.” You tell her, struggling to catch your breath.

“No problem. Come on.” Robin puts her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “I wasn’t kidding, I actually know a store close by.” You follow her as she starts walking down the dimly lit street.

“Holy shit, you’re the best.” You speak before you think and she laughs, nervously.

“This is actually great for me.” She says, looking at you. “I am not great at parties.” She adds as you walk by her side.

“I am… when Billy is not there.” You shrug. “How come you came to this party?” You ask when you notice she is about to bring up Billy.

You find it very difficult to even admit that you are Billy’s sister, especially ever since you moved to Hawkins. He is the worst brother in the world. Billy is in a constant state of anger and arrogance, rooted in the hatred for your father. You don’t blame him, because your father is even a bigger ass than Billy, but you find yourself wishing that Billy wouldn’t take out his anger on you and your step sister, Max.

“It’s Steve’s birthday party, he wouldn’t let me miss it.” Robin’s raspy voice brings you back to reality.

“Oh, right. How do you know Steve?” you ask.

Despite her statement from earlier, when she said she is not interested in Steve, you are still curious to find out how such a beautiful girl hangs with Steve without being interested in him. You found out Steve Harrington is the Hawkins High School heart throb. Every girl you have ever encountered was head over heels for him.

God, how you wish you were in his shoes right now.

“We work together at Scoops Ahoy. You should come by sometime.” She smiles.

“Totally.” You speak. “I love ice cream.” You mentally curse your need to fill in the silence with stupid statements. Who doesn’t love ice cream?

“Oh, what’s your favorite flavor?” Robin asks, almost leaving you speechless.

Relieved that Robin did not think your statement was stupid, you choose your next words carefully. “If I tell you, will you promise not to laugh at me?” You ask, embarrassed to reveal your favorite ice cream flavor.

“I don’t judge, Y/N.” The way she says your name makes you blush. “I am a very open minded individual.” She adds.

“Oh, God I am so embarrassed!” You exclaim and she giggles. You take your time before answering, Robin’s glance burning through you. “It’s bubble gum. I love bubble gum flavored ice cream!” You finally say, throwing your hands in the air. ”I know… it’s childish and you probably think-“

“Oh my God! That is my favorite flavor too!” She cuts you off, and you stop walking. Robin is too good to be true you think to yourself. “Come on!” She says as you notice the gas station store down the road.

Robin might be the coolest person you have ever met. Unable to take your eyes off of her, you follow her into the store. “I’ll meet you outside.” She says and she disappears through the aisles. Thankful for the lack of judgement, you head for the register, already impatient to see her again.

•••

After you successfully acquired the cigarettes, you sit down on the sidewalk outside of the gas station and light one up. Nicotine-induced serotonin is one of your favorite kinds of serotonin. You feel your body relax as your mind clears up. Looking up at the dark sky, you wonder when Robin will be back. She is definitely the highlight of your evening. Between the crazy drive and your maniac brother, she magically made everything better.

Fuck. If only she was into girls. She might be, but you do not know for sure, and you are not sure you want to ruin the evening by asking her, and scaring her away.

“Heads up.” You hear Robin’s voice.

The girl throws something at you, and you clumsily catch it. Confused, you look at the wrapper. Cornetto’s bubble gum flavored ice cream. “Robin Buckley, you are the fucking best!” You exclaim as she sits down next to you.

“You said that before.” She laughs. “You have good taste.” She says as she unwraps the ice cream.

The two of you eat ice cream in silence, watching the night sky. The night is quiet and the atmosphere is pleasant. You try to not stare at her too much, not wanting to ruin the moment, but as soon as you finish the delicious ice cream, your mind is clouded by curiosity.

Unable to take it anymore, you speak. “Hey uhm-“

“So, you’re Billy’s sister.” She says, her body turning to face yours. “Oh, sorry?”

“No, it’s fine.” You say, thankful that she stopped you from asking a question you might regret for the rest of your life. “Unfortunately.” You answer, avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah, you look like him.” Robin speaks while finishing her ice cream. You look at her funny, Robin’s statement leaving you wondering what she meant by it. “It’s a compliment!” She exclaims when she notices your confusion. “Billy is not bad looking… you know, for a guy.” She rambles.

The last three words she spoke make your stomach feel funny.

“Thank you but I’m not sure I agree with you.” You start. “What do you mean by for a guy?” You chuckle nervously.

“Oh, well… uhh… Guys are kind of ugly.” She stutters. “I mean, they are okay but not as good looking as-“

“I like girls, Robin.” You speak before you think, already regretting the confession.

“I..” she starts, closing the gap between you two. “I like girls too.” Flabbergasted by her words, you freeze. The funny feeling in your stomach suddenly turns into butterflies and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I like you.” You let it out, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. Robin’s hands cusp your face and her soft lips meet yours, in a very gentle, bubble gum flavored kiss. As you kiss her back, your heart starts pounding in your chest and you wonder if she can hear it.

“Sorry.” Robin apologizes and you open your eyes when she breaks the kiss.

“Don’t be sorry!” You quickly speak, grabbing her shaky hand. “I’ve been wanting to do that this whole evening.”

“What if someone sees us?” She turns her head, looking around.

“Let them.”

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crimxonwrites · 2 years

Text

Rotten Chapter 2 {Steve Harrington x fem!reader}

Masterlist

Summary: The crew realises that Y/n was raped and debate on what to do now. Platonic Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley x reader. Poc and plus-size friendly.

Warnings: Rape!!, cursing, panic attack, hyperventilation, vomiting, blood, hitting, a fight, mentions of hospitals.

last part | next part

Y/n was certain she had seen the worst monsters in this fucked up world.

Starting with all the shit that came from the upside down and ending was the people who kept the Hawkins Lab running.

Her very own worst monster was a whole different story.

Within the mess of the paranormal dangers they had faced, she almost completely forgot the horrors of the human world.

She remembered them the moment that Jason Carver layed a hand on her.

So as she kneeled at the side of the road, her bare knees sore from the cold asphalt, she wondered how she could have been so naive to believe, that outside of that bubble, the one with the kids and her friends, especially Eddie and Steve, the world would be safe.

Y/n still clutched to him, and he held her in a firm grasp, with his left hand still on her sweaty forehead and his right hand on her back.

Steve was incredibly warm, and it was the only thing that reminded her she was alive, not just a hollow shell.

Her vomiting had stopped long ago, but she still hung in the same position, breathing heavily and still not getting enough air to her lungs.

She heard them talking, but she was not sure if they adressed each other or her. It didn't matter, because her mind was far to occupied with wondering where exactly she had gone wrong.

Which desicion led to this situation.

Which desicion led to her being used.

Which desicion led to her being rotten.

Maybe she always had been. Maybe Jason just saw that, saw that there was nothing for him to ruin, only for him to take.

As her tears started to dry, her sight got less blurry and the world started to feel real again.

The first thing she heard was Steve calling her name. She blinked a few times, realising that she just puked while Steve Harrington held her. He suddenly felt much closer than before. She didn't mind, because she trusted Steve. But then again, her drunken self trusted Jason as he led her outside to his car. There was some blood mixed with the vomit, and she wasn't certain where that came from. Had he hit her? Was her lip split? Was it from her nose, or from inside her mouth?

After all the self pity and all the wondering how she ended up here, a new emotion dominated her. Shame. Embarrassment.

That she stained Eddies seat with her blood, that she puked in front of her friends, on top of that while Steve held her, that she made such a fuss that Jason had touched her.

It was all so embarrassing.

Steve called her name again, once, then twice, and she nodded weakly to let him know that she had heard. Y/n felt so exhausted, so sore. Everything pained her, from head to toe there was no part of her body that didn't hurt.

"Y/n." He called again, and then Eddie and Robin did too. "I'm fine." She whispered silently, but she wasn't sure if it was just in her head or if they actually heard her, so she said it again, this time louder.

The young woman leaned back, getting away from the puke, and Steve let go of her.

She wiped her cheeks, not daring to take her eyes from the grass on the side of the road, afraid of meeting their eyes.

A daintily hand carefully took hers, handing her a bottle of water with the cap already gone.

Y/n drank a sip, then another and then she gulped down the entire bottle. Her friends had gone quiet, maybe they looked at her, maybe they were having a silent conversation, but she didn't care. She drank too fast, some water running down from the corner of her mouth onto her shirt. It stung, and she wondered if her chin was bruised.

She finally looked up, meeting Steves gaze. He still sat beside her, with his arm draped over his knee and a worried glance. She couldn't see much though, because it was dark and she felt dizzy. They stared at each other for a moment.

Y/n felt numb. Maybe she had puked her soul out. Or maybe Jason had ripped it out.

"Do you need something?" The brunette boy asked. It was a stupid question, wasn't it? She needed so much right now, but he could give her nothing of it. He couldn't give her the girl back she was just hours ago.

So Y/n just shook her had, mumbled a 'thank you' and looked at Nancy, who crouched on her right. Nancy smiled, a pitiful smile, as she handed Y/n the handkerchief the brunette had prepared. The young woman wiped her mouth, but neither that, nor the water, made the disgusting taste go away.

"Can someone help me up?" She asked, and Robin was the first to carefully pull her to her feet. They walked to Eddies van, the trunk lid was opened and the blonde helped Y/n to lean against it.

Steve exchanged a glance with Nancy, as Robin led Y/n away. She offered him a hand and helped him up. The brunette man looked around, to find Eddie pacing around in the distance, hands in his hair. As he looked back at Nancy, her face told him she knew more than he did.

"Nancy." He urged her to tell him, his head leaning back with a defeated sigh.

As he looked at her again, she looked down. Steve followed her gaze, to find a dark stain at the ground. It took him a moment to realise, that it was the exact spot where Y/n had kneeled. It took him even longer, to realise that it was blood. His eyes grew larger, finding Nancy again.

"What happened?" He asked, but Nancy just shrugged. She was aware of Steves crush, and she most certainly did not want to be the person to tell him of their suspicion. "We think..." She started anyways, in a hushed tone, licking over her lips before she continued. "We think Y/n was raped."

At first he didn't react at all. The Wheeler woman started to question if he had heard what she said. Then he nodded really slowly, whispering 'okay', and Nancy was almost hopeful that he would take it alright, before he turned around and hit the tree closest to them.

Nancy shrieked out his name, as she saw his bruised knuckles, trying to grab his arm to prevent him from doing it again, but Steve walked towards Eddie, grabbed his Hellfire Club shirt and twisted his fists in it.

"You were meant to pick her up! Why didn't you pick her up?!" Steve yelled at the metalhead, which caught the attention of Robin too.

Eddie was crying and made no movement that indicated that he was trying to fight back. He just looked at the other man, guilt written all over his face, as if he waited for Steve to beat him up, as if he thought he deserved it.

Steve raised his fist, Nancy called out his name again, fearing that he would hit the longhaired man, but his fist just lingered in the air and when Robin called out his name too, he released Eddie and turned away rubbing over his face while he began crying himself.

Eddie just stood there, almost looking disappointed. Then Steve walked up to him again. "I'm sorry man, it's not... it's not your fault, I shouldn't have... I didn't want to be like that anymore." Steve blurted out.

He was a douche, and he knew hitting Eddie wouldn't fix what happened, wouldn't punish the person who actually did it, but his anger made him forget the progress he had made the past years.

Eddie offered him his hand to shake and Steve took if. "It's okay, dude. I get it."

All that went unnoticed by Y/n. Robin held her hand reassuringly, crouched before her.

The blonde didn't say a word, because she knew that whatever she would say, would be completely wrong. Holding Y/n's hand felt like the right thing to do, like something she couldn't mess up.

The group gathered around her again, trying to stay calm for her sake. They knew they had to ask, but nobody wanted to be the one to do so.

"Y/n, were... did someone..." Nancy began, but broke off, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "Were you raped?" Robin blurted out, causing her friends to look at her in shock and Y/n to whimper a bit. That was the only confirmation they needed. Steve breathed out, the last bit of hope he had dying. He was angry, at whoever did this, at himself for not being there, for almost hitting Eddie. "We need to go to the hospital." He realised, and his eyes met hers. "What?" She asked, her voice sounding so small.

Eddie nodded in agreement. "He's right. You..." He paused and looked away from her. "You're still bleeding, it won't stop." Rationally, she knew they were right. But every fiber of her body refused to let that happen.

"They have to check your bruises, and we got to call Hopper, so we can press charges."

Nancy explained, but Y/n was quick to shake her head, looking betrayed. We can press charges? There was no we. There was just Y/n, and she was most certainly not going to involve Hopper.

"I won't do that. I can't, I... it's not bad enough. I'm fine, really, I am. It was my fault too, I didn't fight back and if I wouldn't have trusted him to begin with.." She trailed off, as Steve scoffed.

"It's not your fault. You are not to blame for his actions." There were tears dwelling in her eyes again, but she just stared at him, so he carefully cupped her cheeks, brushing his thumb over it reassuringly. "It's not your fault." He repeated.

Y/n shook her head, forcing him to let go of her.

"Let's just let it go. Please just let it go." She whispered desperately. "I'm not strong enough for this. I can't take the backlash, I can't take people not believing me. I'm not even sure if I believe myself."

"We believe you." Eddie told her, trying his best to give her a smile. "And Hopper will believe you too." Robin added, feeling like she found the right words for once.

"But maybe that's not enough." Y/n muttered. She felt so many things at once, and she felt so incredibly misunderstood, being unable to put it all into words. Being eighteen completely sucked and her mind was a mess to begin with. Now, it just felt like it couldn't be fixed anymore.

"Y/n." Steve said, and somehow his eyes told her that it would be fine. That he was there to pick up her pieces. That she would be strong enough again to do so herself, too.

"We get that you're scared. And hurt. But as long as we're here, nobody can hurt you again. We won't let that happen. And neither will Hopper. It will be okay, people will believe you."

She nodded, but she didn't believe his words.

The young woman didn't trust in them. Didn't trust in anything, right now. Especially not herself, or her memory of what happened.

When she looked down, she saw her white socks colored red, and her sneakers too, and the first thing that came to her mind was the question, how she was meant to wash it.

Then she felt disgusted by her clothes, by herself, because he was still all over her and the need to shower for hours overcame her.

She cried again, and her friends just sat around her with pitiful glances. They burned into her skin, embarrassed her further, like a doll that fell off its shelve and shattered on the floor.

Nancy offered another handkerchief, but she didn't take it. She didn't want help. She wanted a few nice words and then, to forget it for the rest of her life.

"Please." Steve begged. Please what? Please let us drive you to the hospital? Please let us in? Tell us what happened? Please be fine again?

Please, she thought. Please just let it be over.

She thought it was, when his hands weren't on her anymore, when he wasn't in her anymore, when the taste of copper and cheap liquor slowly faded, and the smell of his violence did too. But god, how wrong she was. It was only the beginning.

"Okay." Y/n whispered her answer, and heard Eddie breathe out in relief.

"But I will stain the seat even more." She noted blankly. "I'm sorry." She turned to Eddie. He shook his head. "Fuck the seat." He told her, but she still feeled like she failed him. Failed them all.

Please tell me if you like this and if it's okay. Inspo is just as welcomed as feedback!

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#crimson's recs #steve harrington #stranger things

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