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blossomingmoonlight · 2 months

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Under the eyes of the seven

summary: after years of leaving King's Landing, you go back to fight for your brothers inheritance, but the tense energy grows stronger when you meet you uncle again. So what will happen when your mother Rhaenyra betrothes you to him?

word count: 3606

warnings: nsfw, violence, family hating family, hot uncles, vaginal, handjob, oral, making out, grinding, vaemond getting k!lled

Aemond Targaryen x niece!fem!reader

The ride to King’s Landing felt like months passed after you left Dragon Stone, the voyage across the sea and then the never ending ride through the land. But finally you arrived with your family, the heir to the iron throne herself princess Rhaenyra, your stepfather prince Daemon, your brother Jacaerys, your other brother Lucerys and your brothers Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon. Being the only and eldest daughter of princess Rhaenyra made you heir to the throne as well, which was a huge responsibility and one of the reasons why you were back in King’s Landing, at the very castle you grew up in. Your feelings were two faced, one the one hand you were happy to be back, on the other you dreaded having to see your uncle’s again and not to mention you step grandmother queen Alicent.

As the two carriages stopped inside the courtyard it was awfully deserted and quiet, not something you expected as usually someone from your family’s station should be greeted by the king and queen themselves. The doors of the carriage opened and your brother Jace helped you down the steps, a few feet away your mother and prince Daemon exited their carriage as well. Your brothers followed you and your mother was greeted by Lord Caswell, whom you then followed inside. Since your mother and Daemon were to talk to the queen you decided to join your brothers Jace and Luke in the training courtyard.

Following them down the steps in your beautiful red dress detailed with gold accents and flowers you realized it wasn’t very suited to walk around the sandy courtyard in but you decided it didn’t matter. Walking after Jace and Luke to the, what seemed to be training weapons, you decided to only spectate today. You weren’t shy of a certain amount of training yourself but you were too tired from the long journey you just made. You glanced around the courtyard and saw two men training with a group of people around them but stayed with your brothers anyway. Then you noticed your brother Luke’s uncomfortable expression. “Luke what’s wrong?” You asked him, a little concerned. “Everyone is looking at us.” He expressed, noticing the eyes of people around you three. Jace seemed to be occupied with the weapons table and just laughed. “Who cares what they think.” Jace said while picking up a training sword. “Jace is right, why would we care what they think?” You said while putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder assuringly. “Easy for you to say, you actually look like a Targaryen.” Luke scoffed, removing your hand from his shoulder. “That doesn’t matter, I know you want to look differently, but you shouldn’t give them the satisfaction.” You assured, but your conversation got cut off when there were cheers erupting from the crowd behind you. Jace and you couldn’t help but be curious who were dueling so you dragged Luke with you to witness the clearly exciting event.

As you pushed yourself through the crowd the image before you became clearer and a certain one eyed uncle came into view, you looked nervously at Jace next to you, knowing if he were to challenge one of your brothers now, he would probably end them. And then it happened, Aemond stopped in his tracks as he noticed you and your brothers. “Look who we have there, my niece and my nephews.” He said as his eyes fixated on your form, not even batting an eye at Jace and Luke. Heat creeped on your skin as you took in his tall and mature figure, he had grown into a man over the years, that much was clear. Just as you were about to say something, the gate opened and the members of house Velaryon arrived. The courtyard fell into silence as the intimidating portrait of Vaemond Velaryon came into view, followed by princess Rhaenys and princess Baela. You gave Baela a soft smile which she returned, the last time you saw her was at her mothers funeral, you felt horrible for her and comforted her and Rhaena through the service.

House Velaryon passed by and headed inside to prepare for the petition of Lucerys’ right to Driftmark. You couldn’t decide how to feel about it all, you were certain your grandfather the king would surely back him but after hearing about his health decline you weren’t so certain anymore. You pushed this thought back when you saw your uncle walk up to you. “Uncle, how good to see you again.” You faked a smile, growing up you had a hard time getting along and you were not sure how to feel about your relationship with him after these years. “Niece, you’ve... matured I see, are you here to watch me train?” Aemond boasted, a slight smirk on his lips. “No, I just wanted to see what the commotion was about, that’s all.” You scoffed, it seemed that his ego and cockiness had only grown stronger. His hair was now long, his left eye, or rather scar, now covered by an eye patch. His tall figure towered over you as he held his hand on the sword stuck in the ground. “I see, well tell your brother I wish him luck today, he does not seem to have many people on his side.” Aemond taunted, evidently trying to get a rise out of you. “We’ll see, uncle.” You exclaimed, and with that you sped out of the courtyard, once inside the tall and impressive castle halls, you tried to get his deep husky voice out of your mind. Some time passed as people were slowly starting to gather in the throne room, preparing for the petition to come. In truth you were starting to get nervous, if Luke was claimed to be unsuited to inherit Driftmark, was your and Jace’s inheritance put to question as well? You tried to stop thinking about it but it was quite hard as the petition grew closer.

When it was finally time, the hand was sat on the iron throne, with the queen and your uncles and aunt at her side. You stood to the front right, next to Daemon and Jace. Vaemond expressed his opinions on the matter and after some time it was your mothers turn to state her petition. But just as she started, the doors opened and King Viserys came into view, slowly but surely making his way to the throne. Luke was saved after all. The king struggled but managed to sit on his throne once more anyway and expressed his confusion on the matter, after Rhaenys had her say, the matter was settled and Luke remains heir to Driftmark. But Vaemond’s disgusted look told you shit was about to go down. “You may decide to rule your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine.” Vaemond hissed as he now almost trembled with anger. He went on. “Her children are BASTARDS!” He screamed, now he really had everyone's attention as gaspes could be heard across the room. “I will have your tongue for that.” The king sneered. But just as you were about to look at Daemon, he had disappeared from your side and before you could process the scene in front of you, Vaemond's head was cut off and rolled onto the floor, and blood painted the stone under his feet. Daemon was about to be disarmed and escorted away but he wiped the blood of his sword and left himself. And you couldn’t help but look at Aemond, an admired expression on his face. His eyes locked with yours and you couldn’t help but show a tiny smile, which he returned. The room was quickly cleared after and you were escorted back to your quarters.

As the sun was setting, your handmaidens were dressing you for supper, by the king's request, he wanted to eat with the entire family one last time because he knew his time was near. Your handmaiden Alyssa was tightening the beautiful blue gown, with long flowy sleeves and pearls on the bodice, the corset and thick skirt of the dress accentuating your beautiful figure. Your second handmaiden Marina finished up your hair, two braids being braided to the back of your head and being braided back as one. Lastly Alyssa handed you your gold earrings to put in and Marina clasped a matching gold necklace around you. You added your favorite two gold rings on your fingers as well and headed over with your family to supper, where your step grandmother, aunt and your two uncles were already seated. A chair was pulled out next to Aemond and the guard waited for you to sit down. Feeling like you had no say in this you sat down and kept your mouth shut. Surprisingly the queen spoke to you. “What a beautiful dress granddaughter, an extraordinary color.” She smiled, the compliment took you by surprise but you thanked her anyway. When it was time for the king to be brought in everyone rose and he was put down between your mother and the queen. The king then gave a speech on how he wishes for things to be peaceful between you all and how it seemed it was time for celebration as your two brothers were now betrothed to your cousins Baela and Rhaena.

But then your mother rose and said she wished to speak. “I have another announcement to make, after the petition today, the queen and I have come to an agreement to bind our blood. So I offered to betroth my eldest daughter (Y/n) to her son Aemond so we may become stronger together again.” At your mothers words your mouth opened slightly not believing what you were hearing, you looked at her in disbelief and her lips formed a tight line as if silently saying ‘do not oppose this’. You glanced at Aemond who looked in disbelief himself and averted your gaze to your grandfather who seemed very pleased with this. “Very good, this is how we should be. Binded by blood and stronger together.” King Viserys smiled, but as he sat back down he heaved and coughed and Alicent commanded he be taken back to his quarters to rest. Just as the king was leaving, a big platter of what appeared to be roasted pig was brought in, and at the sight of this you looked at Jace and Luke unable to keep the smirk off your face remembering years ago the prank you played on your now betrothed. Aemond caught this and stood up, slamming his hands on the table and grabbing his cup of wine. “I would like to toast to the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…”

About two seconds went by before he dared say the last word. “Strong.” He ended. “Aemond.” His mother, the queen, warned. “Come, let us drain our cups to these three... strong boys.” He challenged. You looked at Jace who was about to snap. “I dare you say that again.” Jace sneered, fed up with Aemond’s words. “Why? T’was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?” Aemond continued. Jace had enough, stood up and stormed up to him, punching Aemond right in his jaw. He pushed Jace to the ground and smirked at you, you stood up with fury and smacked him as hard as you could across his face, leaving his cheek red as you stormed out of the room.

Once in the halls you raised your skirt slightly to be able to run to the only quiet place you knew in the castle. You thought you could hear someone following you but in your upset state you paid it no mind. As you descended several stairs you ended up in the dungeons near a bedchamber you used to escape to as a child. You opened its door and hurried inside, your face still hot with anger, and your heart pounding. Was this really the man you had to marry? This vile, cocky asshole? You couldn’t believe it. As you removed your jewelry the door creaked open and you turned to face the very man himself. You couldn’t believe he had followed you here. “What do you want? To throw more insults?” You sneered at him. “Don’t be like that dear niece, I was just messing around. No need to get all upset about it.” He prodded while stepping a bit closer to you. “So what do you want?” You huffed taking a step back and sitting down on the old creaky bed. “To talk about our... union, I suppose.” Aemond sighed clearly not too content about it himself. “If it were up to me there wouldn’t be a union.” You spoke and looked at him, you couldn’t help but take in his broader shoulders and his tainted face. Though even though tainted still handsome, no you thought, this man is horrible you won’t think about him this way, you refuse. “I understand, however, it seems to me like we don’t have a choice. We’re going to have to put up with each other.” He continued, now taking a few steps towards you and a slight smile on his face as he observed you, taking in your figure. “I will not put up with your insults against my family, I don’t talk about your family that way do I? Because don’t get me started on your disgusting brother.” You warned, which earned you a disappointed look from him. “So you deny it then?” He certainly seemed to want to continue to taunt you with the rumors of your family.

“Hold your tongue.” You snapped now standing up, right in front of him, looking up in his, well, eye. “Now now, no need for threats.” He smirked. “It’s not very nice to talk to your uncle that way now is it?” He said, now very close to you. If someone were to walk in, it would be a suggestive sight. “Why? Why must you taunt me this way? Do you really hate me that much?” You asked him, you tried to control your emotions but he was a little too good at getting a rise out of you. “I hate your pretentious family, if that's what you mean.” He looked at you, his lips still forming a slight smirk on his face, it almost seemed as if he wanted you to slap him again. “You fucking vile disgusting asshole!” You snapped, finally he got what he wanted. You smacked his face again but before you could move your hand away he gripped your wrist tightly. “Those are not very kind words niece, someone ought to teach you a lesson.” He grunted, he gripped your wrist tighter and pulled you against him, causing your left hand to be on his chest. “What are you doing?” You asked him, now a bit scared as to what he might do, knowing you are completely alone and no one could hear you. “Teaching you a lesson.” He almost whispered, grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. You wanted to push him off, you really did but as if you had no control over your body your lips started moving against his, moving your hands to his face instead. The kiss got more heated as he put his hands on your waist, pressing you tightly against him. With your bodies so close together you could feel something hard pressing against your lower stomach. He moved his lips feverishly against you and let his tongue swipe against your lower lip. You moaned at the feeling allowing him to slip his tongue inside, which you welcomed almost instantly and moving your own tongue against his. He let out a loud groan and squeezed your ass against him. “Fuck, move on the bed right now.” He ordered, and who were you to disobey your prince?

You crawled back on the bed, laying down as Aemond climbed on top of you. He wasted no time in getting his lips on yours again, his right hand holding your cheek. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he lowered your body against yours, specifically his lower body. Again you felt something hard pressing against you. “Wai- wait Aemond, something is pressing against me.” You breathed out, having never been with a man before this entire situation was new to you. “That would be... me, love.” He whispered in your ear, a blush spread across your face, realizing what he meant. Then he started grinding against you, unable to help himself he groaned in your ear. “Fuck this is so wrong, but you just can’t help it can you niece, so hot for your uncle, fuck I bet you’ve never even seen a cock before.” He grunted in your ear, still grinding against you hard. At his words you could feel yourself dripping with arousal, you wanted more, needed more, only you didn’t know what you wanted more of. “Please uncle, please do something.” You pleaded in his ear. “Want me to make you feel good princess? Want me to make you cum?” He teased now back against your lips giving you a kiss before starting to kiss down your jaw, to your neck, down to your chest. He ordered you to sit up and he undid your dress hastily, almost ripping it due to his want for you. He removed your dress and shoes and your undergarments as well. He kissed you once more before moving his lips towards your thighs, giving small bites and licks and even sucking a couple of love bites on them as well. Finally he reached your throbbing core and licked a long stripe against your slit, causing a guttural moan to leave your lips. “Please my prince please I need more.” You begged, his tongue now lapping against your clit making you beg and beg for more. He started moving his tongue faster, occasionally putting his tongue inside your hole before sucking on your clit and entering a finger inside you, to prepare you for his hard cock.

When you seemed accustomed to his finger he curled it a bit and started moving it right against that spongy spot that makes you see stars. The movements on his fingers, in combination with his tongue lapping on your clit you came hard, screaming his name, feeling your juices leak all over his fingers and the bedsheets. “Seven hells that was…so good.” You gasped, trying to calm down from your high. Aemond smirked at your words and removed his shirt, along with his boots and pants. Wanting nothing more than to finally be inside you. “Are you going to be good and take my cock princess?” He uttered while climbing back on top of you. “Yes, yes please I’ll be good uncle, I’ll be so good for you.” You moaned as you felt the tip of his cock against your clit. He grabbed his dick by the base and moved the head slowly against your soaked slit. “Fuck you feel so good, such a good girl.” He groaned against your lips. You almost screamed as his tip entered you, a mixture of pain and pleasure overcoming you. As he bottomed out he stayed still for a bit to let you adjust and stretch around his hard cock.

“Are you okay?” He decided to ask, he wanted nothing more to just fuck you dumb already but wanted you to feel good as well. “Yes I think so.” You mumbled, a light layer of sweat on your skin, your hair now messy and sprawled on the pillows, such a beautiful sight. After you spoke he started to slowly move, moaning at the feeling of your tight cunt around him. You gripped his back harshly with your nails causing him to let out a loud groan, after a moment or so he started moving faster, not being able to hold himself back anymore. “Fuck please, please fuck me harder uncle!” You moaned loudly as he now started to really slam his hips against yours. The sounds of your moans and his filling the room as well as the slapping of your skin together, this only made you more aroused. He moved out of you for a second before flipping you over to your stomach, then he grabbed a pillow and moved it under your hips to raise your ass for him slightly.

He then inserted his cock back inside you and started fucking you rough. His balls pounding against your ass as he fucked you harshly over the pillow. “Oh fuck! Please uncle! Please fill me! Please!” You screamed begging him to cum inside you. “Such a good girl, already such a slut for me.” He grunted in your ear, feeling himself getting closer to his release. He moved his hand between you and the pillow and moved his fingers over your clit, matching the speed with his pounding hips. You moaned and begged louder until you finally came hard, your walls contracting around him. “Fuck yes, oh fuck that’s it.” Aemond moaned your tight cunt causing him to fill you up to the rim with his cum. He gave a final three thrusts to milk himself dry and moved off of you, laying by your side. You moved off the pillow and crawled in his arms. “Are you still upset about becoming my wife?” He asked you with a smile on his lips. “No I am definitely not.” You smiled back, as he held you tightly in his arms.

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I hope you liked my first Aemond fic, let me know who I should write for next and if there are things I should change. xx

#aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x fem reader smut #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon

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dawndelion-winery · 2 months

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Thanks for the Flowers

You send them a little prank thank you text with flowers they never sent

Ft: Alhaitham, Arlechinno, Childe, Scaramouche, Wriothesley

Alhaitham:

You thought it would be a funny prank to send him a stock image of flowers and a small thank you

"Glad you like them."

He smiles to himself, but then immediately deleted his message when he sees the attached image

That wasn't the bouquet he sent

His smile drops so fast because who exactly is sending you flowers apart from him?

"Throw those out, they aren't from me. Don't you like the one I sent more? I got your favourites, my love."

He gives the house a cursory scan the moment he steps in through the front door

It's only after you've given him his welcome home kiss and a hug that he starts looking for the bouquet for some trace of who the sender might be

At first he doesn't believe you when you say it's a prank because he wouldn't put it past you to just want to allay his worries

He'll come around though, and then he's annoyed

"That's childish and you know it, you can have my attention if you just ask for it."

Arlechinno:

This is her sign to publicly announce that you're with her because this sort of idiocy wouldn't be an issue if people knew you were spoken for

Initially chuckles to herself as she glares at the offending image

"Do you like them?"

Of course she's not telling you the weren't from her if you like them

The poor sucker who sent them to you deserves no credit anyway

If anything, they deserve her personal thanks for helping her gift you something!

Of course she needs to know their name and face to express her gratitude in person <33

In a totally genuine and non-threatening way (lie)

She ends up coming home late that day, having scared off any of your potential suitors just to be safe

"Had some unsavoury business come up, dearest, sorry to keep you waiting. Have you had dinner yet? No? Shall we dine together?"

She never brings it up though, so you sorta forget to ever tell her it was a joke

Childe:

At first he doesn't process that he didn't send you the flowers

It's not like he doesn't pay attention, but he has his subordinates send you so much stuff as he comes across it that it's really hard to keep track

For all he knows it might have been something he came across and spontaneously thought of you liking it

And your likes were pretty much needs to him

"Love you, my pookie <33"

And then he stows his phone away

Only to remember he hasn't gotten you any flowers that day

"My honey drumlet darling-kins, there doesn't happen to be a note attached to the flowers, is there?"

When you insist that no, there isn't, and you've checked thoroughly, he makes a mental note to look into anyone who's ever had a crush on you

For a friendly spar, of course!

He just needs to make sure his competition is even worth noting (they aren't)

He comes home, thoroughly disappointed that none of them could even hold their own against him - few even dared to try, scared shitless by the sudden appearance of a harbinger demanding they fight

Sweaty and tired, he's all over you, whining about his day and how everyone wants you and can't take a hint that you're so happy with him ("You are, aren't you? I'm your favourite.")

Of course you cave and tell him it was only a prank

He scowls at first, but then breaks out giggling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck

"It doesn't really matter because I think they're all scared of me anyway. Some of them took one look at me and blanched. Unlike you, of course; the sight of me excites you, doesn't it?"

Ah. There's your bastard ginger.

Scaramouche:

"Wrong number, I think you meant to text your side hoe."

Sends you the most unbothered replies

Is actually overthinking

He knows logically this is most likely a joke because he swears he has seen that bouquet somewhere on the internet when looking for flower arrangement inspiration

But what if it's just a really similar layout and someone actually did send it to you?

Horrible. He doesn't want to think about it

But of course he does anyway

Brings you flowers because he planned to sneakily replace the stranger's bouquet

Wriothesley:

"Honey, please tell me this is a joke."

Seething inside

Who in their right mind dared to covet you while you were happily dating him??

Don't even try evade his interrogation, he needs to know every detail

From the exact time the flowers were sent to the arrangement and paper quality

Don't mind him, it's just a small investigation he'll carry out in his free time

The sooner you come clean the better

Not that you'll go unpunished...but hey, confessing to your crimes must at least lighten the sentence, yeah?

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade

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schrodinger-swriter · 3 months

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The main cast of Hazbin hotel on Valentine's day

I know I may be a little late. I had to do some shopping today and hadn't had the motivation or time to get down and write until now! I apologize is some characters are given more writing than others... the truth is that I am bised for some characters or simply have more for them. :C

Regardless I hope you enjoy these, I likely won't do these large posts very often.

CHARLIE:

I hope you can forgive me for being a little short on Charlie's part, I had stated earlier what she would do for the holiday in an alphabet post! But to recap she makes you a mixtape with songs dedicated to you, songs made by her and songs she knows you like! The case is handmade too, covered in hearts as well as having a hand written note inside further expressing her affections for you. She would also give you some of your favorite candies! Expect to go out and do something fun and romantic too!

VAGGIE:

Much lower compared to her canon partner, Vaggie is not much of an enjoyer of the holiday. She keeps her thoughts to it to herself, though sometimes you might find her grumbling about all the pink and the red. She just doesn't enjoy the aesthetic all that much. However despite that she will still participate if she knows it will make her significant other happy! She would get you something small, like a stuffed animal and some flowers.

ANGEL DUST:

Respectfully stealing this idea from my mutual, but he already gets so many gifts and cards from his crazed horny fans. He hardly has the room for any more! Though.. he probably sells a lot of it for some extra cash, only keeping some of the candies. If you get him something, he probably wouldn't sell it. He's actually touched. In terms of what he does for you, he might treat you to a night full of him... in more ways than one if you're open to it. If you don't feel like going out he's fine with staying inside and watching some movies in his rooms... perhaps it's a deserved break after a rough day during the love season.

ALASTOR:

Similar to Vaggie, Alastor wouldn't do much. He understands the purpose of the holiday, but he simply. Does not care for it all that much. However I do rather enjoy the though of Alastor sending letters to his friends (Mimzy, Rosie, Niffty, ect). He even puts them in fancy envelopes and seals them with wax. How nice is that? If he can, he might even send a box of chocolates. Fingers, in Rosie's case. However, he doesn't do much to celebrate outside of that. That's assuming he sends anything at all, anyway.

SIR PENTIOUS:

He would go all out. He might even make a machine dedicated to you and gift it. He makes a mechanical heart that beats and gives it to you. He gives you all of the candy he can get his hands on, not exactly sure what you prefer. He takes you out for the night, to the nicest restaurant he can go to without getting jumped (because let's be honest... his days of trying to pick fights and climb to power has probably landed him with some enemies...). He's a total gentleman on the date, opening the door for you and pushing in your chair for you. Considering he's a little flustered that he is on a date with you, everything goes smoothly.

HUSKER:

He likes to stay in, but you can count that if you manage to get him to go out it's going to be a to a club or bar. Anywhere with alcohol. He'd much rather prefer a bar, since it's usually... lower in energy. He also isn't much of a Valentine's person, and he does show his disdain. He does tone down on talking negatively about the day around you, so there's that at least. A simple night in with an affirmation of love is enough for Husk.

NIFFTY:

She bakes you something and perhaps sews you something. A red throw pillow in the shape of a heart. Though you may have to tell her that's what you want because otherwise she's going to try something akin to the roach crown.... shivers... The baked goods are actually pretty good, and you'll be snacking on them for the rest of the week due to Niffty getting too excited and making too many. She will stab someone with a needle if they try to take one without asking you first.

LUCIFER:

He also goes all out, it might actually be a little overwhelming! He can conjure nearly anything he can think of, if his song was being literal! He wants to make sure you're loved, and that there's no possible way that you would ever think otherwise. Despite this he might rather stay inside, or maybe alter the home to look more fancy to make a mock dinner. Generally very sweet and you will be drowning in gifts from the second you wake up to the minute you go to sleep. He also makes you breakfast in bed.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #charlie morningstar x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #sir pentious x reader #niffty x reader #husk x reader #husker x reader #lucifer x reader

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heyhihellosworld · 7 months

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𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨

Lando Norris x OC Alice Davies

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: Childhood friends too...?

Warnings: People changing, friendship ending, breakup, very brief smut, Angst!

Notes: Never written for Lando before but this idea seemed fitting for him soo. Also this is not an x reader story but an OC because it felt right and the OC is completely made up, names found on google's first page lol. It's soooo long too hehe. This fic needed so much research and I'm sure it's not all correct, but it is fanfiction, and also it's angstyyyy, probably not a happy ending, sry

2005 Hampshire

"Lando Norris, what are you doing?!" Cisca yelled over the small yard causing the young boy to stop in his tracks. His hand still in Alice's hair as he was in the middle of pulling her to the ground.

"She took my car!" Lando tried to argue but Cisca looked furiously at her young son. "Take your hands out from her hair!"

Lando slowly untangled his hands from Alice's long strands and turned to his mother, having the decency to look slightly ashamed.

He glanced at his younger friend, her face holding a soft pout and her eyes spilling over with tears as she tried to hold them back. Lando always felt guilty when she looked like that, especially when it was his doing.

"Say sorry to Alice!" Lando's mom ordered, the small boy lifting his eyes slightly "Am sorry Alice" he spoke, feeling small under his mothers hard gaze. "You never pull her hair again, okay?"

"Okay, sorry" he muttered, turning around to follow his mother towards the house.

As he started walking he felt sadness creep onto him, he felt sad his mother was angry at him and that Alice had that expression on her face, it was the same one she had when the boys at school poked fun at her or when she knocked at their door because her parents were fighting again. He hated to be the one making her look like that.

Just as the feeling took a hold of him he felt a small hand on his, his head turning to meet Alice's smile, her hand opening his and gently dropping the small car in his palm. It was his favourite which was why she always teased him with it. "I'm sorry I took your car"

"It's okay, as long as you're not mad at me" Lando smiled. His eyes fleeting around before he found what he was looking for, running to the small row of flowers and picking the prettiest one before running back to Alice, hand offering the blue flower.

Her smile split her face open, she loved flowers, especially blue flowers. The girl wrapped her arms around her friend, thanking him with a soft giggle.

Soon enough the two kids happily strutted on, arms around eachother and Cisca looked at them with a fond smile as the kids where all happy again, playing tag in the green grass.

They were innocent, small and new to the world. If only it would always be this easy to forgive and forget.

2006 TeamSport Go track

Alice watched with longing eyes as she watched her friend in the go-kart. It was a competition hense why she was not allowed to join, she didn't necesarily want to compete but she liked to kart and Lando did too. So much he had told his friend he was gonna drive in formula when he got older, he was gonna be in f1 and win the championship.

It was already done

"Are you sure that's possible?" Alice had asked quietly, not to upset him but just because it meant he wouldn't be here, with her forever.

But Lando had told her that of course it was posible and maybe she didn't understand now because she was younger. She was in fact born a year later but she was only barely two months younger, something she had held for herself as she looked at the seven year old boy, his goal already set.

Done and dusted.

It was naive to think that they would spend all summers and years like this even if he wasn't in formula one but it was her thoughts, the underlying inevitable. She didn't want to seperate from him, ever. He was everything she needed and everything she always would need, that she knew.

Even if she was only six.

2008 Hampshire

The sun was bathing on the young girl, her hair sticking out in every directions after their dip in the water, despite the warmth she had a warm smile etched on her face. Laughing with Lando as he threw water on her, chasing her down until she stumbled face first into the cold water.

This was the first time in a long time the two bestfriends were together again. Lando had been busy with his karting and Alice had not been able to follow him around.

The girl squeeled as she found herself underwater, the waves keeping her from the surface as she struggled to get air again. Panic settled in her body before Lando gently pulled her up to the surface, chuckling as she choked on the water she had inhaled. His laughter though, stopped immideately as he watched her face morph from coughing to crying.

"Lando, that was scary" she sobbed softly, wading up to the beach again as Lando followed. He liked teasing the girl but he hated it when he took it to far and she got sad.

"I'm sorry Alice" he pouted, reaching out to help her sort her towel out as it was crumpled to pieces as she tried to smothen it out but she just slapped his hand away.

Lando stood helplessly and watched his friend dry her tears, folding her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I am sorry Alice" Lando said again but her eyes narrowed at him

"I will pick you a flower on our way back" he pleaded, knowing that was gonna make her forgive him, it always did. "Fine, but it's gotta be pretty" she said, a smile slowly forming on her face as he finally relaxed. "Of course" Lando grinned before throwing himself on her towel, pushing her off it as they laughed.

2010 Hampshire

"What do you want to be?"

The question came unexpected and the small girl pouted her lips in thought. Her eyes watching her friend who sat on the soft grass, hand picking on the strands in a way she wanted to tell him off for.

"A vet, a teacher or maybe a doctor" she rambled, Lando giggled, not to poke fun at her but because she looked so deep in thought over this simple question.

Lando already knew his dreams and had always done, it was all they talked about but lately he had pondered about her, had she ever told him? He didn't think so.

It was quite for a little while which made the young girl frown, the silence getting to her, she didn't like silence after she had said something so instead she snapped at Lando.

"Stop picking on the grass, you are destroying it" she muttered sharply, the brunettes hand immideately stopping his assualt on the gren strands. "Sorry" he muttered

Alice gave him a small smile, apologizing. "I think whatever it is you're gonna be great" Lando spoke, gathering the grass he had picked into a pile and blowing it in his friends face.

"Lando!" she half yelled half laughed as she launched over him, pining the laughing brit into the grass, smudging his face with a few strands she had gathered. "Alice!" he laughed, trying to squirm out of her grasp but he didn't have much of a upper-hand to the girl who giggled with him.

2013 Ortona Italy

"You did it!" Alice grinned at her friend as he ran into her open arms, hugging her close to him as he giggled. "I did it" he mumbled into her soft hair. "I told you it was posible! I told you I would do it!" Lando laughed, overjoyed with the result and the win. Alice only giggled, she knew too, she knew anything he set his mind to he could do.

"Karting European Championship winner" he mumbled, smiling as the words reached his ears. This was the beginning, the very beginning to something so much bigger, to his dreams.

Alice watched his smile all afternoon as they celebrated with a big dinner in their rented house. The sun falling beutifully outside of the open deck. The grill was on and their mothers were going around filling up peoples glasses and hugging Lando every chance they got. Everybody was proud, everybody was happy.

It was one of the best days Alice could remember, not an ounce of bad mood everything light hearted and domestic in a way she never realised until years later, looking back at that afternoon.

Sitting with Lando on the edge of the landstrip down to the water, listening to him talk about his race, his dreams his passion as they munched on some sweets they had stolen from the big oak table.

Time seemed to float together as they sat there, feets gently tapping in the water, hands interwined and bodies close to the other. It was the first time they kissed, the two young teenagers to caught up in their own little bubble. To hung up on the sweet love they had always shared for eachother to even realize what kind of territority they stepped into.

2014 World Championship Karting

He could spot her from miles away, her bright smile lightning up in the crowd in front of him. She was the first one with him, the first one aproaching with her arms wide open.

Lando laughed into her embrace as she smiled like an idiot "I'm so happy for you Lando, you are so good!" she praised, his heart swelling twice it's size at her voice and words. "Thank you" he whispererd, meaning it.

When he pulled away from her embrace he had to go back to the track, his friends immideately hogging him up.

"Congrats" George smiled. Lando grinned back, thanking him as he walked with the others to their cars, gathering all of their stuff to go home.

"Hey Lando" Max asked making the boy pull back a little to get even steps with the dutch boy. "Huh?" he questioned, watching his friend pull a slight face. "Just, that girl that is always with you, who is she?" Lando was too stunned to speak, he knew they had grown a lot, to the point were girls and relationship was a hot topic. Someone who had before only been a playmate was now someone people gawked at, rating and thinking up things with. It had been drastic and Lando often thought it got a bit too much.

But he couldn't deny the obvious, the feelings and the thoughts that sometimes bubbled up despite his liking. Alice had grown up to be a beutiful girl, she had always been in Lando's eyes but not in the way he now realized and it hadn't dawned on him that othes thought the same.

Spread laughter sounded around them "Mate, careful" George joked and Max's eyes rolled "Just wondering mate"

"Alice?" Lando stuttered, wanting to scream when Max nodded. She was often with Lando but had never cared for his karting-friends, saying they weren't her type even though she had only watched them from afar.

"Well she is my friend?"

"Friend?" Max repeated "So you are not together?"

Lando conteplated lying but he shook away the thoughts "No, she is my childhood friend"

"Well she is hot"

Lando swallowed hard, gritting his teeth togehter as he didn't say anything else but Max watched him, seeing the obvious discomfort and dislike to his friends comments and decided to let it go, Lando was a good friend and he understood Alice was important for him and he didn't want to step on anyones toes.

"She seems nice, that's all" Max concluded, patting his friend comfortingly on his shoulder before letting the topic change back to the race.

Lando tried to get into the joking mood but he couldn't really let his thoughts move on from Alice. Did she have a boyfriend? It wouldn't surprise him if she had, because she was..hot?

Lando battled with his thoughts. He didn't know, Alice had always been Alice. Nothing more nothing less, feelings had never even been questioned, love as more than friends had never been brought up, not necesary because they were them, togehter. The only time something like it had been talked about was when their mothers joked about them getting married.

Well they had kissed... but still

Was this all as confusing for her as it was for him? Did she have multiple suitors chattting her up and asking her on dates? Lando had no idea. Of all the things they spoke about this was a topic they had never even touched, never felt the need to.

"Come on man, go to your girlfriend" George joked, shoving him towards Alice who stood with his family, an uncertain smile forming on his face.

2014 Costwolds

His eys watched her as she helped his mom set the table. She was wearing a white flowy summerdress, the fabric flowing in the wind. His mom had helped her fix her hair with a flower and she looked absolutely stunning, with that wide smile on her face.

He couldn't pin it down to when she went from his cute best friend to this, to Alice. A young, mature beutiful woman, someone he felt a lot for and not only platonic feelings. Of course this was strictly hidden. After their little kiss nothing else had surfaced, nothing even close to happening. They had brushed it away.

He couldn't help it tough, he was also getting older, close to sixteen now and feelings did surface, thoughts he wasn't proud of circled in his head and he wondered if she had the same thoughts or if it was just his mind that was sick.

"What are you doing?" Alice laughed softly at him as he stood like frozen on the grass. Blinking rapidly as he shrugged, playing it off like always "Nothing, I was just thinking you know?"

"Really, thinking? Seems like out of usual, no?"

He pulled a grimace at her joke, but it soon turned into a smile as her laughter filled his ears. What a sappy sap he was and he hated himself for it. If any of his friends would see him now they would laugh in his face.

"You wanna come with me to pick flowers for the table?"

"Sure" he nodded, following her out of the main door and out on the field behind Alice's house. Her parents had gotten divorced a year ago, her father moving abroad for work whilst her mother stayed with her.

They had newly been able to pull this house, a beutiful small cute little home more on the countryside with fields and forests close by. It was peaceful, comfortable and beutiful, Lando thought it fitted Alice perfectly.

"What is on your mind today? You seem so distant" she pondered softly, her hair falling in her face as she plucked a beutiful pink flower from the field. "I don't know" he shrugged.

"Then talk to me" she smiled gently as she popped the flower into her basket.

"Do you... do you ever feel..." he couldn't figure out the right words to finish his sentence, "Feel? Of course??" she deadpanned and Lando let out a soft chuckle "No, I mean have you ever felt... like... romantic feelings for anyone?"

Alice scrunched her face up as she looked at her friend. "Do you have a girl I don't know of?" she asked, offended. "But I guess?"

Lando's face heated up, hands pressing against his cheeks as he sat down in the grass. "No no I don-wait you have?"

Suddenly his stomach filled with dread, did she have someone he didn't know of?

"I think so but it's a bit weird"

Lando couldn't say anything more before she spoke again, cutting him off. "Please go on, who is this? What are you feeling, it's okay you know"

Lando removed his palms from his cheeks, taking a deep breath. He felt almost overwhelmed by her calm sweet voice, gently nudging him on.

"Well I don't know, I am so unsure on it because it's... it's someone I've known for so long and I am not sure how I got to feel more than friendship. I have no idea if she likes me back but it's just getting clearer and clearer that I can't supress that I feel more and more every day"

Alice only nodded along his fast words, trying to comprehend and figure out who this was. She felt the same, it was a bit complicated because being friends forever made it a bit tricky to point out what was what.

She tried to keep an even face, not to let him know too obviously that her heart slowly cracked at his words, he liked someone else?

His eyes met Alice's, taking another deep breath

"It's you"

2015 Hampshire

"I know" she repeated, it was all she said as she dragged Lando over the grass to the deck where she had been sitting all morning.

"What? You know what?" Lando asked confused, trying to make sense of her enthusiasm and rapid words.

She let go of his hand as they reached the small decktable, the oak scattered with papers, drawing, documents, all kinds of stuff and it didn't make Lando any wiser of what she wanted with all this.

"I know what I wanna do!" she exclaimed, excitment written all over her, from the way her eyes shone, the way her hand gestured over the papers and to how fast she talked and how she practially bounced up and down on the floor.

"Oh?" Lando asked, leaning forwards to see her papers. This had been a big deal for Alice, ever since he brought it up when they were ten she had been pondering over it. It was no stress and she knew that but for some reason, maybe because Lando knew his dream since the age of six, she felt the need to know.

"I want to be a diplomat!"

Lando fell quiet, too stunned to speak. A diplomat.

He was apparently not the only one having big dreams.

"What do you think?!" She asked, her voice so excited he had to be too. "I think it's fantastic!" Lando giggled, just as engrossed as she was as she pointed at the paper with the decsription of her future job, because Lando was sure she would make it.

"How do you become that?" "Well there are different aproaches to it depending on what you are most interested in to major but you need a bachelors degree but you can choose to major in example Law, international studies, political science or history but I think I want to go Law because then if I don't make it I can go into law for real so I'm gonna apply to Lawschool's here in England, Oxford and Cambridge. That's four years"

Lando's eyes followed her every movement as she spoke him through the different stages of how to become a diplomat. It seemed incredibly hard and long way there but she was so excited over this it made it's way over to Lando.

2016 Costwolds

He looked at her so softly she didn't know what to do of herself. His colourmixed eyes filled with so many different emotions, so many questions.

His hair was all wet from the rain that had poured down over England as usual and his lips held a soft smile whilst his hand tilted up her chin.

"You are so pretty" he mumbled softly, Alice feeling her face heating up at the comment. "You are too" she spoke, her voice like silk, so low it was hardly even hearable through their deep breaths.

She couldn't tell what had gotten them here, alone in her house, cuddled up in her bed watching a movie. Watching a movie had turned to a kiss, then a makeout and now here they were, asking eachother silent questions about how to move forward.

They had started to explore more and more ground with eachother after their feeling-revelations. Slowly but surely taking step by step.

"Are you sure?" Lando asked unsurely, his voice deep and ragged, feeling nervous as he looked at the young girl laying so beutifully on his bed. It felt like he was dreaming. Not only was there a beutiful girl half naked in his bed it was also Alice. His teenage hormones were too high to manage at this point.

"Have you... ever?" she asked, watching his head shake "No, I have no idea of how.. this is suposed to g-"

"We will figure it out" she smiled, asking both of his current questions and he smiled, face relaxing as his mouth dived to hers again.

It was slow, gentle and intimate. Both of them taking their sweet time, caring for eachother.

Their bodies moved together, figuring out what felt the best for both. Lando didn't know what to do, what to feel, it was all overwhelming to a point he became blank of thoughts. Hands gently helping her move with him, relishing in her heavy breaths and small sounds as they explored a new part of themself and eachother.

2016 Silverstone

His hand laced in hers as he gently pulled her along the streets in Silverstone. He had bought GP tickets for her birthday, revealing that his parents had helped him out a litttle after her worrying words for his money.

"Thank you" she said softly, smiling at Lando who looked back at her just as fondly. "Of course" was his reply, even though this didn't feel any type of of course

"Just want to make you happy" he murmured, making her heart soar

"I am happy just being with you, this-this is amazing and I am so happy and excited but you, you will always be enough"

Lando's smile got impossible big at that, swinging their hands inbetween their walking bodies. They were both fools, fools in love but they didn't care.

He talked her through the basics even though she already knew it all. But she loved to listen to it, listen to him talk about it with so much passion, blabber about the teams, the rules, the best. Everything he knew he loaded off to her, Alice more then content to walk around the paddock like this, hand in hand listening to his voice.

2017 Hampshire

She watched as Lando helped his mother to set the table in their old summer-house. The tradition continuing on. His hands balanced the plates as his mother directed him to what should go where.

She couldn't pin down the moment when Lando, her gullible dork of a friend became Lando. Lando who got all the girls falling at his feets with his riddicolously attractive smile and brown curls. Lando who got her to feel more than platonic feelings, Lando that got her all hot and bothered just being him, Lando.

But it was still the same Lando who had picked her flowers, held her when she was sad or confused, shared her highs and been there all the time. He was the same but with some additonal things, things she didn't exactly mind.

His eyes met hers over the table, his face of concentration turning into a teasing smirk as he winked at her.

Alice couldn't help but to giggle, moving off the grass and to the table where him and Cisca were talking about something. Lando had currently signed all season in formula 3 with Carlin. But he had been home for the weekend before going off again.

"Hello" Lando smiled like a dork as she reached the two, his smile going over to her, smiling just as widely as his arms reached her body to pull her close. "Are you coming to my next race?" He asked lowly, smile breaking out again as she nodded "Of course" Alice did in difference from Lando still go to school, her goal meant hard school studying for many years forward whilst Lando's goal meant no school studying but a lot of experience gathering. It was different but it didn't bother them. Alice studied, Lando helped her best he could, usually more distracting than helping but he was also useful to use as someone to juggle ideas with and have as a listener when she pracctised her speaches or read through her essays. In return Alice listened to him ramble about motorsports, went to every race she could and simply was there for him when he needed her to be.

Despite their young age they were mature in their relationship and more than anything, they were serious about eachother.

2018 Barcelona

She watched him from a distance, watching how he went around with his friends, joking laughing. It was formula two now, a new world from forumla 3 in some ways but the biggest difference were the publicity.

The fanbase that had before been small had explded as he startde to do well in formula 2 and especially since he started to appear on the internet via social media, interviews and youtube clips. It had exploded so fast neither of them had gathered what had happened.

What Alice had gathered by now though was that this new world of the sport he loved so dearly made him more and more distant. Suddenly he cared more about his appearance than her, cared more about his image than her. It showed in so many situations, him declining to hang out with her to hang out with some friends, telling her she didn't need to come because it was better for his image if they wasn't seen together all the time.

Alice didn't know if it was better for his image or better for keeping the girls that currenly circled aorund him.

He rarely spent any time with her anymore and it was fine Alice thought, but the feeling that he was embarrassed of her, that he didn't want people to know about her or their relationship was something she felt really hurtful.

The most confusing part of it all was how different it was. When it was only them he was the same, the small soft little boy who picked her flowers and helped braid her hair but when they were with others or in public he was someone completely different. One who pushed her away, ignored her and laughed at her.

It was all getting a bit too much. In the begining she could wave it off by him being new to the experience and fame, having to navigate his way around it but it had gone too far. And it felt too much in her heart.

2019 Monza

"I think... I think we should stop seeing eachother"

Lando's words caught something deep within her, felt like a shot right at her heart as she looked at the boy.

"What?" Her words came out weak, like a faint whisper. "I think we should break up, or whatever" he spoke, this time more direct, less feelings in them, more harshness.

Break up or whatever

They had never put a label on it, they were them, nothing more nothing less. But now he wanted to be nothing?

"Why?" she croaked out not getting where it was all coming from. "I want to see other people" he deadpanned, no emotion in his voice as he looked her straight in the eyes.

She felt defeated, nothing to fight with, nothing to fight for. Because he looked so sure, he looked so distant from the person she knew so she had no choice but to let him go, regardless of the feeling of her heart breaking into pieces in her chest.

But she got numb, feelings she could deal with later, she did not want to look weak when he looked like this, acted like this.

"Okay" was all she said, dropping the flower she held in her hand and turning on her heel.

2019 England, contract with Mclaren

"Congrats" she smiled carefully at the cheery boy. Things hadn't been good lately, stifff and tense but this was his long time goal, his dream and there was no way Alice wouldn't congratulate him on it.

Even if he broke her heart.

His eyes glistened as he pulled her into a warm hug, smiling into her hair. "Thank you, really"

Lando was happy, and Alice were happy that he was happy because it felt like it had always done. He spoke about his contract, about the races infront and she listened, just like she had always done. Taking it in and gently quzzing him further. She didn't want to push too hard.

His smile grew more and more as they talked, he even came so far as to ask how she was doing, he hadn't done that in a long time but just as before, in the end of their relationship things changed fast.

He hadn't told her he'd met anyone new, although they had barely spoken at all lately, only the odd hello on their family dinners. Alice felt it was too early for that but she could see it from miles away.

His eyes flickered around as the tall girl moved towards them and she knew it before she was even there. The lump in her stomach exploding into a sick feeling.

Lando fumbled nervously as he introuduced the two, Alice's eyes stuck on her beutiful face and incredible body. She was everything in one package, one stunning package.

"When did you meet?" Alice asked, voice sweetly soft, trying to disguse any hiddden intention but by the way Lando couldn't meet her eyes she already knew it was before they had ended.

"Oh, I don't know, I think it was last year yeah?"

Last year

Lando didn't answer, didn't look at Alice, he couldn't.

"Oh wow that't nice, and it was really nice to meet you but I have to go"

"Okay, nice to meet you too!" she smiled cheerily.

Lando catched up to her before she could leave the grounds completely, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"Alice" "Don't tocuh me" she snapped, feeling too many emotions at once to control it. "I'm sorry" he tried but she just waved him off

"Save it" she bit

"Don't be like this Alice, come on" "What? You met her a year ago? When we were still together?" "I did nothing with her until we broke up!" "NO but you LIKED HER?!"

Lando looked down "I don't know"

"Fuck off!

"Stop it, youre making a big deal out of this when it dosen't have to be, we broke up I found someone new" "I-I I don't even know what to say" she spoke, shaking her head at the boy she thought she knew but so clearly didn't

"What did you think Alice? That we would stay in love our whole life and get married with many kids?" "I-I don't know" she whispered because maybe that had been what she thought, or at leat hoped. More importantly she thought they were real, and that they had real feelings. But maybe it was just her.

2019 Bahrain

Alice didn't cheer nor did she congratulate. She stood next to Cisca in the Mclaren garage watching the race. She was there for Cisca and only Cisca. She suposed she had forced Lando to give her a pass as he probably much rather would have wanted to give one to his new girlfriend than Alice. But his mother was good at talking and she guessed she had skills with her son as well. Having dangled the pass in her face as Lando had agreed to give her one.

Lando glanced over at her and gave her a faint smile but he got nothing in return, just a stone face that made him advert his gaze again.

He knew why though, the very reason swinging with her long hair before stepping forward to kiss him, right in front of her. It shouldn't but it made his heart ache, he didn't know if it was because it was Alice or if it was because he was a decent human being, he doubted that though.

"Wow babe! Your first points amazing!" She grinned at him. He forced himself to tip his lips into a forced smile "Thank you babe"

He could se in his imagination how Alice would scrunch her face up in disgust. She always hated those nicknames.

"How should we celebrate?" she asked, a hopeful look on her face. She wanted to go out. Lando wanted to go home, eat dinner with his family and Alice, sit down the water with Alice and talk about everything and anything. But those days were gone and now he had a new life.

"Clubbing?" he suggested, smiling as her face lit up.

"Perfect!" she smiled, turning away from him and to Alice and his mother who stood chatting, not paying any attention at all to him or at least not by the looks of it.

"Lando, we are going home. Are you coming with us for our regular big celebration?" His mother asked and he dreaded having to answer

"No, sorry. We are going out" he voiced softly, watching his mother's smile falter as a disapointed scowl took over her face "Out?"

He didn't even dare to look at Alice, knowing she would look at him with murder in her eyes, not liking his answer.

"Okay, well it was so good seeing you" his mother smiled, hugging him close before giving him one more loook and walking out the garages. He had excpected Alice to follow his mother out but she stayed put, making him feel a bit uneasy.

Alice smiled at her as she gave her a soft wave, telling Lando to catch up with her. Alice's smile fell the second her eyes landed on Lando.

He was thinking about aproaching but decided against it, should he go? As his mind was reeling with options and things he could say Alice was standing in front of him with an uncharacteristic frown on her face.

"You are really choosing clubbing before your family?" she spoke, her words harsh but it was nothing compared to her tone, filled with venom and hard as ice.

Lando tasted different aproaches on his tongue before, of course choosing the worst one. Anger.

"You're just angry I choose her before you"

The words struck, he could see that and in a twisted way it settled something inside him. "This has nothing to do with me" she spoke back, her voice even colder than before.

"I already said I was not gonna come to any celebrations, seriously Lando, who do you think you are?" He swallowed, didn't know what to say next but she beat him to it "And since when do you even go clubbing?" her face twisted with distaste. She had never liked clubbing a lot, only rarely could she enjoy it briefly but Lando had had no problem with that. Not a fan of the crowded rooms either but now, now he wanted to make his words hurt as much as hers did.

"Well maybe that's something I can now feel free to do" he spoke harshly, watching the wave of emotion on her face as she shook her head.

"I never, ever stopped you from it"

Lando shrugged "Didn't matter"

Alice shook her head, baffled. Where had Lando gone? Because this wasn't him.

"I was just going here to ask what the fuck is wrong with you. Your mother traveled here to watch you, to support you but you can't even take the time to celebrate with them over dinner? Go to the fucking club after dinner what do I care! But you don't treat family like that''

"What do you know about family?" The words left a bitter taste in his mouth but they had already tumbled out

"Apparently more than you" she bit and maybe she was right but it didn't stop his words from tumbling out.

"Just stop it Alice, you can't control me like before, let me be"

Alice swallowed, he could practically see the emotions swimming in her eyes but it was his doing. No matter how long it had gone he still hated to be the one that made her look like that, so fragile and so hurt.

"I'm sorry if that's how you felt" she whispered before leaving him feeling like the jerk he was.

2020 Cotswold

Her fingers scrolled through the profile, clicking in to one then the other. Scrolling through comments and reactions.

It was like an addiction, once she'd started she couldn't stop.

She was clicking into his pictures, trying to make out the people he was with like she had any reason to do so.

Her eyes fleeted over it all, drinking it in as this was all she could have. Sulking over her ex 'whatever' and the life he was now living.

Her eyes locked on a particular photo, he was on the podium, the widest of smiles on his face and a cup in his hands.

She would have called herself pathetic for sitting here dreaming of the guy who broke her heart but she couldn't help but to look at the photos and dream of what once used to be.

2021 Cotswold

Stiff was a light word to put it. Everyone felt awkvard as the two 22-year old's adjusted their gaze's over the room. Who's idea it had been to put on a family reunion dinner Alice didn't know but whoever it was had started an bad idea.

She hadn't seen Lando face to face in what felt like forever and it was just as unplesant as she would have thought it would be. Horrible.

"So Alice, how is studying going?" Cisca asked sweetly

"Well it's going great, we haven't completed any major essays or studies yet but it's really interesting so I'm happy" Alice spoke, looking at Cisca who held the most comforting smile ever.

"That's fantastic honey, I always knew you would make out what you wanted, you beutiful soul!" she all but squeked making the young girl feel warm inside out "Thank you"

"So Lando, what about you?" Alice's mom asked, just as politely. Alice busied herself grabbing some more potatoes in the slowest movements she could muster as Lando spoke them very detailed through the season so far. He told them all about the car, how it felt, his teammate, his team, the last race, others on the grid, all of it.

It was a bit weird how something she used to find so intruiging, now made her feel numb. Like a big lump balling up in her stomach. "And how is your girlfriend?" She continued, everyone holding their breath

Lando looked uncomfortable as his eyes fleeted around the table not staying to long anywhere. "Well, eh. We broke up" he revealed, making Alice look at him for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Oh I'm so sorry honey" Alice's mother spoke again but he just waved it off, giving her a reassuring smile "No it's fine. I guess we realized how different we were and how different the things we want are. It was no biggie, mutual decision" he shrugged, not seeeming to care to much about it and something about that made it twist in Alice's stomach.

"And how about you Alice? Your mother told me you were seeing someone?"

Alice and Lando both looked like they were gonna faint with shock. Alice coughing on her potatoes, waving her hand as she took a sip from her glass.

"Noo" she chuckled once she recovered. "It was nothing serious at all, just a bit of...fun" she spoke awkvardly, something about that sentence making Lando's stomach twist unpleasantly.

"Aha" Cisca smiled, her lips twitching as she tried to not chuckle at both the youngsters uncomfortableness.

"I hope you mean fun like jumping into the sea and giggling in the grass" Alice's mother mused, looking at her with amusedly narrowed eyes.

"Of course, that's what I mean..." Alice giggled, hiding behind her tall glass. "Because I have never heard you even say you lost your virginity"

Alice choked at that, spluttering her drink over herself and the table as the others laughed at her.

"Well" she breathed

"Alice! You have but you have not told me?!" Her mother said sarcastically. She had figured she had, they had talked about it vaguely since she had wanted to know it was okay and all and she had also not so sneakily gotten a condom or two plus she had asked for her mother to hellp her with the pills.

"Maybe?" "There is no hard feeling honey" She started, tone warm "And Cisca has told me all about it"

This time it was Lando who choked on his drink, coughing desperately until his airways were free again. He had not been as secretive as Alice apparently had been. He had told his mother the next day about it. Not in detail of course but still.

"Oh really? What did he say?" Alice snickered, throwing a look on Lando who's face had creeped up with colour. "Oh not too much, just that you had had sex and it had been ok"

"OK?!" Alice gasped at Lando who giggled in his hands, face red as he giggled at the awkvardness of it alll

Alice couldn't help but to laugh at his face but stopped abruptly when she realized what she was doing, laughing with him?

"No I'm joking it was hideous" she deadpanned, their mothers snickered but Lando looked at her with a glare.

She cracked a sarcastic smile and engrossed herself in the next conversation floating, ignoring his gaze for the rest of the evening.

2022 Monaco

His fingers scrolled through the profile, clicking in to one then the other. Scrolling through comments and reactions.

It was like an addiction, once he'd started he couldn't stop. Obsessing over her life even though he wasn't in it anymore.

Eyes locked on the different pictures he couldn't help but think she was the most stunning person he had ever met.

He also could not stop himself from feeling his heart swell and break at the thought.

2023 Silverstone GP

Alice's hair moved in the windy air of Silverstone. His eyes wandered over her, drinking her in.

He had missed her, really missed her.

Being without her was a test on it's own, one he thoughts was nesecary to live how he wanted, but now he realized he wouldn't ever want to live without her.

It was too late, of course. He knew that, everybody knew that. He had completely wrecked everything they had and shared because of a few years trying to be someone else.

He had been fine though, moved on because he knew that's what she had done, but his heart struggled all the same everytime he saw her or even thought about her.

His mom had tried to push him towards her, saying that he needed to apologize. Lando had never understood why. A simple sorry wouldn't change a thing of what he had done, it was not gonna make anything better.

A sorry was simply not enough.

Despite that he itched to say it, beacuse he was sorry, even if that changed nothing.

A GP sunday and Alice hadn't had it in her heart to refuse Cisca's pleas for her to come with her and watch. She had been there more times since they broken up 'or whatever' and it had been fine.

But this time it felt different. From the moment she stepped into the paddock Lando's eyes were on her. Nothing unusual but his eyes were something else, held something else deep within them.

It hadn't even been half an hour after the race when he aproached her carefully. His eyes fleeting around as he stopped in front of her, hand combing through his wet curls.

"Hi" he breathed, meeting her eyes a short second.

"Hi" she answered, her heart picking up in her chest for no reason at all.

Why did it still do that?

"Good race today, congratulations" she smiled weakly making his heart grow wings. "Thank you". He was on the podium, second place, a good weekened for Mclaren, for sure.

"How you been?" he stuttered out, trying to be as normal as possible as she looked at him. "Good, you?" she replied shortly, his breath catching in his throat "Fine" he got out, his words stuck in his throat, sounding like he had just coughed them up. "I- I know this is not gonna change anything and I know I've been a proper dick but I still wanted to.." he murmured, his hand reaching into his suit pocket and bringing out a small blue little flower. Blue ones where her favoruite, it had always been.

"A flower?"

His eyes burned with sadness and regret

"I really am sorry"

Alice's eyes flickered from the sad looking guy and his handpicked beutiful flower, wishing it was enough, wishing it was as easy to forgive him now as it had been when they were small and Lando had teased her or made her cry. But it wasn't and Lando knew that too.

No amount of flowers could possibly make up for this and it absolutely shattered him.

#f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #mclaren #lando norris #lando norris x oc #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris oneshot #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #lando norris smut #Lando Norris

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brain-rot-central · 2 months

Text

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 2

A/N: HEAVY TW FOR PREGNANCY AND TALK OF CHOICES. I understand this is a sensitive topic for some. Feel free to skip over this chapter; I will completely understand.

Rating: M - soft E Word count: 3.7k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: pregnancy, discussion of pregnancy termination, mention of prior sexual acts, emetophobia tw, angst, loss of consciousness, druids are connected with nature and shit, stalking behavior

Summary: Astarion's visit wasn't a one-off event. He and Tav have continued to meet nightly over the last few months, Tav all but losing track of time. It isn't until she ends up at the home of a certain druid that time catches up to her. She's now charged with a difficult choice, all while under the never-ending watch of her clandestine lover.

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

It's a day of rest for the citizens of Baldur's Gate, and the market is restless. Errands that have been pushed off for the last tenday all beg the same level of attention as shoppers flit from one store to another. Children laugh in the streets as they run past, mothers hopelessly screaming their names in an attempt to track them down.

Tav peruses the wares of various street vendors and shopkeepers. Her bag is already full, though she makes a quick argument with herself that she could absolutely use a new scarf. Mindlessly, she scratches the side of her neck while browsing the collection of woolen scarves at an upscale boutique. A sting of pain shoots down her neck, an unpleasant reminder of the discolored welt she had sucked into her flesh a couple nights ago.

The visits have continued since that first night. Astarion never gives much warning as to when or if he will return. It’s always the same modus operandi - he shows up unannounced, they spat, they have sex, and he's gone come morning. Tav rubs over the sore spot on her neck again, wincing as she recalls the evening's events.

Astarion was particularly rough that night. She could tell something else must have been preoccupying his thoughts as he didn't care much for their usual banter. No, he very quickly got straight to work, his fingers sinking into her cunt as he sucked the mark deep into her throat. Feeling a blush rising to her cheeks, Tav shakes her head in an attempt to rid her mind of the memory. At least until she's no longer in public.

Gazing across the store, Tav settles on a particular scarf. It's a light-gray color with various types of flowers embroidered throughout. Bringing it to the shop owner, they make light conversation regarding the detailing of the scarf as Tav expresses her desire to buy it. Tav pays the fee, stepping over to the shop’s mirror to place it around her neck. She gasps as she narrows in on the bruised skin of her neck, seeming to be worse now than earlier this morning. Heat rises to her cheeks once again as she winds the scarf around the column of her neck, paying extra care to position the fabric over her secret.

Waving to the shopkeeper, Tav exits the boutique and heads toward her next destination - the butcher's. Her freezebox is running empty, and there's only so much more vegetable soup she can eat before tiring of it.

Truth be told, however, her appetite has shifted dramatically in the last few weeks. Even Astarion has commented after she nearly upchucked all over his loafers. He's agreed to go lighter on the cologne going forward, and thank the Gods he's obliged. Tav vaguely wonders if she's fighting off some type of illness, though it's been much too long for a simple stomach bug.

She's reminded just how tender her breasts have become as well, yelping aloud as she collides into the back of another shopper out in the street. “I'm so sorry!” Tav says quickly, ducking out of view before the victim can get a good look at her. She winces at the soreness of her bosom as she adjusts her bodice, dipping into her favorite butcher shop.

“Ah, Tav!” greets the butcher, warm and welcoming. A halfling, his amber eyes finding her as his lips pull into a smile. “Haven't seen your face a good while,” he comments. “I was startin’a wonder if you'd run off on yet another adventure.”

Tav chuckles and gives a nod. “Good to see you, Gideon. I'm still here!” The scent of meat is oddly strong today. Tav feels her stomach beginning to twist and turn as she surveys the various cuts of meat and fish laid out on the ice of the display cases.

They exchange pleasantries; Gideon shares quick stories about his family, Tav telling him more about her adventures to stop the Absolute. Disappearing into the back of the store, Gideon yells out, “Were ya interested in tryin’ some sausages, Tav?” Before she can reply, Gideon reappears holding a tub of meat trimmings.

Her nostrils are assaulted by the smell. Her stomach is lurching at this point, ready to spill freely up her throat and onto this poor man's pristine wooden floor. “I-Is it a new recipe?” Tav asks, feigning interest. She places a clenched fist over her mouth as she belches.

“No, not a new one,” he explains. Tav watches as he slips a sausage casing onto the spout of the meat grinder. “Improved!” Gideon grabs a handful of trimmings and places them into the funnel atop the grinder. Holding the casing in place, he begins to twist the crank with the opposite hand, machinery grinding the trimmings into mince.

Tav registers the sound of Gideon’s voice in her ears, though none of the words make it across her brain. She's transfixed on the way the meat mince fills the casing. Saliva pools thick on her tongue as a wave of sickness strikes her. The grinding of the meat has intensified the smell; it's not a particularly bad smell. In fact, it smells rather pleasant. But it's a smell; a strong smell, nonetheless, and strong smells are not something she can handle, as of late.

“Tav? Tav!”

She snaps from her daydream as Gideon's voice cuts through her mind. “Oh,” she says, “I'm so sorry. My mind was elsewhere, Gideon. Forgive me.” Tav’s eyes follow Gideon's hands as he gathers more meat trimmings to place within the funnel.

“That's totally fine, dearie! I was just goin’a tell you-”

Gideon cranks the handle again, grinding more meat into the casing. The accompanying smell overwhelms her nose again, and suddenly she's retching, violently, onto the pristine floorboards below - exactly what she didn't want to do.

After some time she's dry heaving, having emptied the full contents of her stomach. Tav then sinks to her knees, vaguely hearing Gideon scream from behind the counter. Her ears are filled with little else but the rapid beating of her own heart. As her chest heaves from the power of her emesis, Tav’s vision narrows a single tunnel. She falls gently onto her side, the touch of Gideon’s hands holding her head the last thing she remembers before slipping away into unconsciousness.

—------------------------------------

The ceiling is unfamiliar.

Tav snaps awake, rising curtly from the bed she lay on, certainly not her own. Immediately she's met with the soothing, pleasant scent of patchouli incense. And sage, lots and lots of sage.

“Ah, you've finally awoken,” a gruff yet feminine voice speaks from the far side of the room.

With a swivel of her head, Tav meets the hazel eyes belonging to this mysterious being. Wild blonde hair is woven into locks, adorned with beaded jewelry. Sun-kissed skin wrinkled by the passing of time, alluding to the beauty she beheld in her youth.

“Jaheira?” Tav asks in confusion. “How did I…?”

“You passed out in the market, little cub,” she explains. Jaheira comes to sit on the edge of the bed, a laugh escaping her. “Boy, you gave that poor shopkeeper a fright. I happened to be not far from where you were when I heard the commotion.”

Running a hand through her hair, Tav recoils after touching a particularly sore spot on the side of her scalp, face pulling into a scowl. “Did you bring me back here?” Tav asks.

With a quick laugh, Jaheira says, “With some help, yes.” She gives a quick nod to Tav. “Don't worry, we maintained your dignity.”

The episode at the butcher's begins to replay in her mind. “Oh, Gods, Gideon!” Tav exclaims, holding her head in her hands. “I ruined his beautiful floors!”

“He seemed more worried about you, little one,” says Jaheira. Quirking a brow as she tilts her head, Jaheira asks, “Who is this man to you? He's not exactly your type.”

Disbelief settling across her face, Tav yells defensively, “Jaheira! He's my butcher!” She winces as another bolt of pain shoots down the side of her skull.

“Ah, go easy,” coos Jaheira, hands coming up in a calming gesture. “I only tease.”

With a sigh, Tav pulls the covers off herself and moves to sit up. She rubs the back of her neck, stretching it side to side. A gentle “pop” is heard once she flexes her neck to the left, shaking out her shoulders before standing.

Looking down, Tav realizes she's naked. Embarrassed, she quickly grabs the duvet from the bed and wraps it around her body. “Why am I-”

“You hit your head on the way down,” Jaheira explains. “I had to check if there were any other injuries.” Seeing Tav’s pained expression, Jaheira adds, “No need to worry, there are none. I've also treated you with balms and oils to ward off a concussion.”

Nodding her head toward Jaheira, Tav scans the room until she finds her clothing in a neat pile on the dresser. She walks over to retrieve her garments, dropping the blanket onto the floor to begin stepping into her trousers.

Tav catches Jaheira's gaze in her periphery. Jaheira is studying her intently, looking curiously at the bruise on her neck. Her vision dips lower to the swell of Tav’s breasts, and further still to the unusual softness of her lower belly. Tav dresses hurriedly, feeling uneasy under Jaheira's watchful stare. She secures the embroidered scarf around her neck before searching for her boots.

“Forgive me for prying,” Jaheira says, cutting through the uneasy silence that has befallen the room. “I couldn't help but notice the mark on your neck.” Lips pulling into a smirk, Jaheira asks, “That isn't a gift from the butcher boy, is it?”

With a laugh, Tav bends down to pick up her boots that rest in the corner of the room. “Oh, most certainly not,” comes her answer. Sliding her feet into her boots with a huff, Tav says, “No, this is from…” Her voice drifts off as she thinks of Astarion. How to describe their situation? The question baffles her. “An old flame,” she settles.

“Ah, so you know this boy?” Jaheira inquiries while raising a brow.

Having tied the laces of her boots, Tav returns to the bed. “For some time, actually,” she explains, taking a seat. “We're… trying to rekindle what once was, I think.” An uneasy discomfort spreads throughout her chest.

Jaheira lifts a hand to Tav’s chin, gently turning her head to the side, exposing the marred flesh of her neck from under the scarf. “Is he handsome?” Jaheira asks jovially, her eyes roaming the young woman’s skin.

With a gentle laugh, Tav replies, “Quite.” Her eyes track the older woman's face, holding her chin steady within Jaheira's grasp.

“And how long have you been rekindling what once was, hmm?”

Furrowing her brow, Tav slowly turns her head, fully facing Jaheira. “I beg your pardon?” Tav asks, befuddled. “That's a rather personal question, don't you think?”

A heavy sigh escapes from the druid’s chest as she closes her eyes. Reopening them, Jaheira asks, “When was the last time you bled, little cub?” The hand that was on Tav’s chin now reaches up to tuck hair behind an ear.

Rage swells within Tav at the emboldened line of questioning. Before a response could form on her tongue, realization washes over her. “I-” she stammers, “I could have sworn it was a few weeks ago, but…”

It has indeed been quite some time. Months, in fact. She's been so preoccupied by Astarion's return into her life, the new dynamic they have formed, working on settling back into how things once were…

Tav simply… forgot. Forgot to keep track.

“Oh, Gods,” Tav exclaims, voice cracking as anxiety begins to take root. “Do you think… I could be…?”

“I have reason to believe,” comes Jaheira’s graceful response, compassion evident across her features. “It would only take a few moments to confirm, if you wish.”

Averting Jaheira's watchful gaze, Tav nods her head. Jaheira motions for Tav to lay down atop the bed, Tav hesitantly complying. A strong sense of despair settles over her as she rests against the pillow. Does she even want to know? Probably, as that would be the more responsible thing to do.

Right?

“Close your eyes and relax,” Jaheira says calmly, hands hovering over Tav’s abdomen. A faint green glow emanates from the palms of Jaheira's hands, and she hums softly. Tav closes her eyes and breathes in a cleansing breath, releasing as much tension on exhale as she can.

The room is silent for a few moments, until Jaheira suddenly jerks back. “By Silvanus,” she gasps, mouth falling agape. Eyes wide as she stares into Tav, who is now sitting upright on the bed.

“What is it?” Tav asks, panicked. “Am I..?”

Jaheira's face twists and contorts before finally settling on bewilderment. “You… are,” she confirms, hushed. Tentatively, she questions, “You… refused your father, did you not?”

Bhaal, her accursed paternity. The source of murderous rage and never-ending blood lust that once threatened to consume her. Something she and Astarion bonded over deeply, back then.

“I did,” Tav answers. “Why do you ask?” She studies Jaheira as the older woman falls silent, lips pressing into a thin line. “Jaheira, what is wrong? Tell me!” she demands.

The druid casts her eyes down at the floor. “The child… is unnatural,” Jaheira gasps, sucking in a large breath. “The aura… It goes against every law of nature.” Disbelief sours her expression further as she shakes her head. “It is an abomination.”

Unnatural. Abomination. Jaheira's words repeat in her mind. Tav's breath hitches as truth sinks in, her vision narrowing.

She is with child. An undead child.

Astarion's child.

“No,” Tav cries, “no, you have to be wrong. It's not possible.” Denial floods her chest, heart beating wildly. The fine hairs of her arms stand on end as a wave of nausea rushes over her; she feels sick. And stupid. So incredibly stupid.

Reclaiming her seat on the bed, Jaheira places her hands over Tav’s. “Oh, sweet girl,” Jaheira says, rubbing circles into her skin. Tav physically recoils at the pity laced within her voice. “Did he tell you he couldn't? They all say that, and none ever mean it.”

Tav shakes her head in disagreement. “No, it's… It isn't that,” Tav begins, voice cracking as a sob pushes past her lips. With a huff, she pulls her hands from Jaheira's and throws them into her lap, defeated. “It… it would have happened already…?” She stares into Jaheira’s eyes, searching desperately for a ledge to pull herself up and out of this nightmare.

Jaheira returns her gaze, her hand cupping Tav's jaw tenderly. She tilts her head, eyes full with understanding before asking, “Cub, do you mean to tell me the father is…?”

Her throat feels tight, almost to the point of suffocation. Pressure builds in her head as Tav tries to choke back the string of sobs that threaten to overwhelm her. Her stomach is flipping violently, much like earlier in the day, though she's unsure of what would come up. Her eyes burn as tears begin to roll down her cheeks, and she finally buries her face within Jaheira's chest, giving herself over to acceptance of her current situation.

Jaheira says nothing at first, placing her hands across the young woman's back, mindlessly rubbing up and down. She presses a kiss atop her hair and begins rocking Tav within her arms, all in an effort to comfort the distraught human. “I thought you left him, Tav?” the druid asks, delicately.

Pulling herself from Jaheira's bosom, Tav wipes her tears with the back of a hand. “I did, but he came looking for me a few months ago.” Stupid, she scolds herself. So godsdamned stupid to ever let him back in. Throwing her hands up, Tav says, “What do I do, Jaheira? He can't ever know.”

“No,” agrees Jaheira, rising from her place on the bed, “he absolutely must not.” Walking over to the dresser at the opposite end of the room, Jaheira opens the top drawer and begins rummaging within. Tav sees her retrieve a small midnight blue bottle, closing the drawer before stepping back over to the bed. “Take this,” Jaheira insists, holding out the bottle to Tav.

Raising a hand, Tav hesitantly retrieves the potion. She studies it intently, rotating the bottle within her grasp. “Essence of Moonshade,” Tav reads off the faded label, inquisitively. “What is this?”

Jaheira sits again on the bed next to Tav. “The wife of a tyrant's most trusted confidant,” explains Jaheira, leaning in closer to the younger woman. Raising her hands, Jaheira encloses them around Tav’s and the bottle. Their eyes meet, concern apparent across the druid’s face as she says, “Drink this, and you needn't worry any longer.”

Furrowing her brow, Tav takes a moment to consider Jaheira's instructions. She quickly stands, ripping her hands away from Jaheira as the puzzle begins to align. “Are you asking me to purge this child, Jaheira?” Tav questions, distraught.

The druid woman is silent for some time before weakly nodding her head. “I am giving you a chance to rid yourself of the curse that grows within.”

Tav clenches her fists rapidly as anger swells within her, beginning to boil over. “His seed sprouted in my belly; does that make me wretched, too, Jaheira?” she shouts, utterly bewildered by what the druid is asking her to consider. “Should I also be purged? Punished for my womb being so favorable as to nurture the child of a monster?” she yells, venomously.

“Tav, no-” Jaheira coos, eyes soft as she extends a hand.

But before the druid can continue, Tav begins to weep. Unrestrained sobs pour from her lips as she sinks to her knees, hiding her face in her hands as she screams, “I can't do it, Jaheira!” Wrapping her arms around her torso, Tav begins rocking herself back and forth. Her skin prickles with anxious energy, heat rising throughout her chest. “They're half of me,” Tav tries reasoning, weakly. Tears fall freely from her eyes, though the sobs begin to subside.

At least, until her arms press down over her chest and she winces at the tenderness of her breasts. A reminder that she is, indeed, pregnant. That this is not a dream. She's transported back into the hellish nightmare she sought such desperate momentary relief outside of, the sobs continuing.

Jaheira kneels down next to the young human woman, a gentle hand rubbing her back. “I am sorry, little one,” says Jaheira, mournfully. “To aid you was my only thought.” Jaheira elaborates while raking a hand through Tav’s auburn locks.

With a gentle shake of her head, Tav says, “No, I apologize, Jaheira. You're only trying to help and I'm…” Being ungrateful, she finishes within her mind. Her thoughts are muddled. A multitude of emotions rushes through her like a river after rain. Tav digs her palms into her eyes and rubs, giving her head another shake as her hands drop into her lap.

“Tav, look at me,” states the druid, a hand coming to hold Tav’s chin again. She lifts the young woman’s face to meet her eyes. “I do not fault you for being beguiled by him. I, too, was once a young woman,” Jaheria with an honest laugh. Her expression softens. “Whatever your decision, please know that I am here.” Jaheira gently strokes a thumb over Tav’s chin and adds, “You may always come to me, whenever you feel the need to.”

Warmth begins to radiate from Tav’s core as Jaheira's words settle over her. She feels pressure mounting in her face again, tears imminent, but for a much different reason. “Thank you, Jaheira,” Tav says, wrapping her arms around the other woman’s waist in a tight embrace.

Jaheira raises her arms, bringing them around Tav’s shoulders. “You are a beautiful, intelligent young woman. I trust you will be fine,” she states emphatically, pressing a kiss against Tav’s temple.

The two women separate, Tav wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Jaheira helps them stand, nodding toward the forgotten bottle on the bed. “Take that home with you,” Jaheira insists. “You still have some time to decide.”

With a quick nod, Tav walks over to the bed and retrieves the bottle, tucking it into the front pocket of her trousers. “I don't know how to thank you,” admits Tav.

“Ah, don't mention it,” replies Jaheira with a wave of her hand. “Now, be on your way. I'm sure you've grown tired of spending time with an elder.”

Tav laughs as she picks her pack up off the floor, situating it upon her back. She exchanges parting pleasantries with the druid as they walk down the stairs, Jhessem and Tate running past them as they reach the door. Tav waves back as she descends onto the streets of the city, Jaheira yelling something unintelligible toward the rambunctious children as she closes the front door.

Taking a deep breath, Tav pulls the dark blue bottle from her pocket and gives it a quick glance over. She shakes it slightly, watching the liquid slosh to and fro within.

The sound of a bird squawking above draws her attention from the potion, and Tav looks up. On the roof of the home across from Jaheira, a black raven sits perched on the gutter. It cries again, twisting its head in various different directions before taking flight. Tav watches the bird fly off, disappearing from view. Strange, she thinks. Tucking the bottle back into her pocket, she begins the trek back home.

—------------------------------------ Atop the tower wall he stands, golden chalice adorned with rubies in hand. The sun is beginning to set over the city, a golden glow illuminating the many alleyways below. The man extends his opposite arm as a raven appears. The bird perches upon his offered ledge, hopping slightly closer to him as it chatters. “Hello, darling. What news of my damia do you bring?” he purrs to the bird. It squawks in response, the bird's head turning rapidly. Bringing the goblet of wine to his lips, Astarion takes a strong sip. “Is that so?” he responds. Licking his lips, he comments darkly, “How very, very interesting.”

#ascended astarion #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #astarion x female tav #bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #emetophobia

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aphroditeinthesea · 1 month

Text

this was a request from @annaizcool44 but i accidentally deleted it when i tried to post it

“ safe in my garden, an ancient flower blooms ”

jason grace x daughter of demeter ⚡️

reader expresses her feelings to the son of zeus through a shared love of books

tw none

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨💐୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“Whatcha reading?” Y/N jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She was sitting on the porch of the Demeter cabin when she noticed the blond approaching her.

She looked up and smiled, “Little Women,” she scooted over for him to sit next to her, “ever read it?”

He shook his head, sitting beside her. He leaned over her shoulder at the page she was on, “what’s it about?”

She felt her ears warm at the closeness, “these four sisters during the Civil War, and their dad’s fighting in the army so they're trying to adjust to their life now… I guess.”

“Can I borrow it sometime?”

Jason heard a knock at his door in the early morning. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he stood up, walking to open it. He found on his doorstep a copy of Little Women with a sticky note on top that read “For Jason, with love Y/N” and he couldn't help but notice the fresh flowers that had sprouted around his cabin.

He smiled and looked around. He saw the girl peering from behind a nearby tree. She turned away, giggling, when he looked her way.

His heart warmed. He stepped back into his cabin and flipped through the pages, he found little notes in the margins and underlined quotes.

For the rest of the day, the book never left his hands. During breakfast, during training, his eyes were glued to the pages.

Just before the campfire, Y/N peeked into his cabin, “Jason?”

She noticed him wipe his eyes, “oh, uh, hey.”

She smiled and walked over to his bed, “Beth?”

He nodded, “yeah. Why would the author write that?”

She bit her lip, “Jase, it’s a true story.”

His eyes widened, “no.”

“Yes.”

Tears began pricked out of his eyes, “that makes it so much worse.”

She sympathetically laughed, wrapping her arms around him. He nuzzled his head into her neck. She couldn't help but smile at how the usual tough guy was now crying in her arms over a book. A book she had gifted him.

He pulled away, “your little note made it better though,” he grinned. He opened the book to the last page he had read, “Jason, when you get here, come to my cabin, I know you’ll need to.”

She laughed, “I think I know you too well.”

He nodded, “I think so.”

“You wanna read Pride and Prejudice?” she asked, “one more sister, happier ending.”

He chuckled, “might as well.”

She showed up to his cabin just before curfew, “the Bennett sisters, Jane, Lizzie, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, search for love in 1813 England,” she announced in a pretend professional voice.

“No scarlet fever?”

She shook her head, “no scarlet fever. Jane gets a cold, but it's nothing serious.”

He hesitantly grabbed the book from her hands, “thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem, Jason, it's nice getting to share these with you.”

“Yeah, it's nice for me, too,” he trailed off, looking away, “I should get to bed.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” she smiled, “goodnight.”

“‘Night,” he replied, closing the door.

“Oh, uh, one more thing.”

He slightly opened the door again, “hm?”

She took a deep breath and placed a kiss on his cheek, “see you in the morning.”

He stuttered, trying to suppress his blush, “yeah- yeah, see you,” he awkwardly smiled, closing the door again.

The next morning she watched him sit at the Zeus table, reading the book. Her heart raced as she knew he was getting closer to the last annotation she had written. She started to regret it, what if he thought the books just made them closer friends? Of course they were friends, she cursed herself for thinking he could see her differently. He glanced up at her, he flashed a smile and a nod her way. She turned pink, looking away.

“Y/N!” the all too familiar voice called to her as she sat by the dock, watching the sunset later that day.

She turned around, “Jason, hi,” she shyly smiled.

He took the spot next to her, handing the book back to her, “I finished the book.”

She nervously looked into his eyes, “and?”

“It was great!” he beamed, “everything about it.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “even the ending?”

“That was the best part.”

“Jason,” she laughed, “did you even read the annotations?”

He squinted his eyes in confusion, “of course I did.”

She opened the book to the back cover. She folded it open and showed it to him. There was written in pink ink, “Will you be the Darcy to my Lizzie?”

“I know it’s cheesy,” she muttered, closing the book and turning away.

“Yes,” he paused, “wait, no. Yes to the question, not to it being cheesy. Well, it is cheesy but it’s cute. You're cute.”

She giggled, “thanks, so are you.”

He held her cheek in his hand, their gazes met before their lips crashed into one another. She placed her hands around his neck as he now held her face with both of his hands. When they pulled away, their foreheads leaned against one another and they could feel the other’s breath against their lips.

The next morning, Jason walked out his cabin to find a field of multicolored roses had encompassed him. He looked around just to find the girl responsible standing in the middle of the flowers, holding a book. He breathily laughed and made his way over to her.

“Here,” she smiled, handing him the book.

He took it, “Mansfield Park?”

“Jane Austen, she wrote Pride and Prejudice, too.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her into a kiss, “sounds perfect.”

#jason grace #jason grace x reader #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #jason grace x you #jason grace x daughter of demeter #demeter #daughter of demeter #child of demeter #cabin 4

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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months

Text

Pidge stares hard at her twisted fingers. Her eyes have long since begun to burn, and she holds her face carefully parallel to the floor, knees presses to the sides of her head, watching as her vision gets blurrier and heavier, until eventually the tear drops from her eyes and splatters on her glasses.

“How did you handle it?” she asks hoarsely, not even looking up. “The homesickness.”

For a while Lance doesn’t say anything. His breathing is steady and near-silent, quick little inhales and long, shallow exhales. Practiced breathing, when he’s choking back tears. He does it several times a day. Sometimes Pidge can’t stand to look at him. She doesn’t understand where he puts it all, the sadness that is constantly bubbling out of him. Doesn’t understand where he finds the strength to let his voice get choked up in the middle of a sentence and keep going like there’s nothing wrong. She feels hot shame heat up her own body, in the clear absence of his; a secondhand embarrassment at emotion that shouldn’t be advertised so easily, so trustingly, so constantly.

Eventually he sighs. When Pidge looks up there are tears in his brown eyes, as there so often are, but she fights the urge to look away and tucks herself under his open arm, instead.

It’s warm, in his hold. Bony too. But he holds her without fear of squeezing too tightly, winds his long arm around her back and shoulders and presses her face into his neck. He smells, as he always does, of flowers, although Pidge could not identify what kinds, and she imagines that she’s sat under the rows and rows of shelves in her mother’s greenhouse, watching her work. Her hands shake so she winds them around the creases of Lance’s jacket and grips tightly.

“I don’t,” he says after thinking about it. “I carry it with me. I always have.”

Pidge thinks she knew that, in her bones. She thinks she understood that about Lance from the very second she first saw him, two years ago at the Garrison auditorium in September; this boy who slouched and grinned and shot finger guns and laughed like a hyena and cried four times a day. The boy whose eyes were deep and dark and filled with an abyssal pain that hurts to look at. Off-putting.

“That sounds lonely.”

Lance hums. He shifts, resting his chin on the top of her head. She feels the slow drip of his tears, down his nose and plopping onto her scalp, and parcels at how his heartbeat doesn’t change, the ease in his voice. The shaky steel of it.

“It is. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t. Lonely. It’s just something I carry.”

Her breath shudders out of her, big and large and shaking her shoulders. She hears what he doesn’t say: I have gotten used to it. She thinks to herself: I will never get used to this weight.

She says: “I don’t understand.”

Ever so slowly, he begins to rock them back and forth, barest sway of their bodies. His lips press her hairline. Her face crumples and her breathing quickens as she forces down the tears, shoves back the mirroring feeling, the mixing of Lance and Matt happening in her head.

“When I was four my oldest brother moved away. He was getting married. I never got over that, I don’t think. He lived down the street longer than he lived down the hall but I never really stopped missing him.”

He pauses for a moment, and Pidge knows it’s deliberate in the way his whole body stops moving, pondering, before starting again.

“Sometimes I miss him on purpose.”

Pidge pulls away, enough to look him in the face, to watch his sad eyes and slight smile and the familiarity in the uncanny expression, the Lance of it.

“Why?” she asks desperately, hands twisting further in his sleeves. “Why would you ever — on purpose?”

“Because I love him on purpose.” The tears drip down Lance’s face as a steady waterfall and he doesn’t even flinch at them, doesn’t even blink. Lets his eyes fill and spill over again and again like cupped hands under a leaking faucet. “When I miss my mom I love her. When I miss my sister I love her. When I miss my brother I love him. When I miss Keith I love him. When I miss you, I love you.” He gently pulls his sleeves away from her clutched fingers, wrapping his hands around them instead and squeezing. “The grief hurts like a never healing wound. But I’m terrified of not having that. I don’t want to wake up one day without the reminder of how deeply I’ve loved and how deeply it will always be a part of me, that love. I don’t know how I’d ever function without it.”

“You don’t function with it,” Pidge argues. “It — haunts you. I see it in your face.”

Lance shrugs. “I function with it. I function because of it. Every day that I miss them I live because I will miss them until I see them again. It’s an — anticipation, almost. I miss you and I can’t wait to see you again mean the same thing.”

A strange noise bursts out from Pidge’s throat, gut-punching. I miss you and I can’t wait to see you again mean the same thing.

She misses her brother in her bones. Her father in her blood. Her mother in her heart.

Waiting to see them again pulses at every level in her body. That’s — manageable.

“Oh,” she says, and she means oh, in the way you blink your eyes open in the mornings. Oh, I see now. Oh, that hurts. Oh, it’s bright.

Lance squeezes her hands again. “There are worse things than loving so much it hurts you,” he says softly.

“Oh,” Pidge says again. “Oh.”

#i have been carrying this for a while i think #hm. anyways #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #pidge #pidge holt #pidge & lance #brown eyed lance #langst #pidge angst #pidge is so young actually #hurt/comfort #klance #like barely and if u squint but idc #my writing #fic #longpost

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bones4thecats · 5 months

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May i ask for Yor briar! Reader x record of ragnarok, who do you think would fit her the most? (Also she still has anya and she fights for humanity for her daughter and brother)

A/N: I’ve actually tried starting to watch Spy x Family, and from what I’ve seen, it’s really good! So, I’m using what I’ve seen of Yor in this! Anyways, enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🪩 On god, he was upset about this

🪩 He isn’t fond of Humanity and we all know this, they gave him headaches, but hearing Heimdall’s constant rants on the contestants was a close second in causes

🪩 He watched as their representatives, Cheranbog and Belobog, step out and form out of black and white smoke

🪩 Then he heard Heimdall yell out your introduction;

“ And welcoming one of the most well-known assassins throughout history, the Thorn Princess, better known as, Y/N! ”

🪩 You stepped outside in your classic outfit, a black dress with your hair mostly tied up and your weapons drawn

🪩 There were only two things left on his mind, why are two gods going against one human and why are you so pretty?!

🪩 Belobog and Chernabog chuckled at your facial expression, it was fair and non-threatening compared to those of Lü Bu

🪩 Once you landed the first hit against them, he was on the edge of his seat

🪩 Now, he was hoping you would win, just so he could actually speak to you

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💐 Much like Shiva, she is not fond of Humanity, as they were destroying everything beautiful on Earth that she worked to keep nice

💐 She was just wondering around Valhalla one day when she heard a young girl laughing

💐 She turned around and saw a young, pink-haired girl with green eyes stroll up to her and reach out to shake her hand

“ I’m Anya! What’s your name? “

💐 Aphrodite smiled and shook the young girl’s hand before giving Anya her name and a flower crown she had made

💐 Anya smiled and yelled out to her mama, you, and she saw as you, the human who had just fought against Belobog and Chernabog, run up to scold her on leaving you without anyone watching

💐 Looking at you, she noticed you were one of the few humans who seemed to care for the planet during life, putting in effort to make sure the flowers stayed healthy

💐 Smiling at you and chuckling as the young girl tried escaping your grip, she made sure to remind herself later to speak to you, she had some questions for you

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

📯 He met nearly every contestant in Ragnarok, or at least had spoken briefly to them so he could get some bare info for their introduction during battle

📯 When he first spoke to you, your brother was helping you put your hair up while your daughter laughed in your lap, telling you a joke she had heard from Sasaki earlier

📯 Seeing your smile made him laugh, normally when preparing for battle, the Humans were training and keeping their composure

📯 You were the opposite, and he liked it

📯 At first, he thought that your brother, Yuri, was your husband, and for some reason he was quite saddened

📯 Maybe it was because Buddha had taken his horn earlier, maybe something else

📯 When doing your introduction, anyone with feelings could see how his voice seemed to be laced in more happiness when mentioning you attacking the two Slavic deities, Belobog and Chernabog

📯 After the battle was over, he had helped escort you and your fairly injured body to Brunhilde, Göll, and Kojiro Sasaki to carry you to heal

📯 He needed to check on you once the day’s battles were over, he can’t let his new favorite human go without his presence for long, now can he?

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luveline · 11 months

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for your dad!steve au, can we see steve making the girls laugh? or just any slice of life? thank u!

thank you for your request! dad!steve x mom!reader, 1k

Steve doesn’t play rough with the girls because he’s a schmuck who’s constantly terrified of dislocated elbows (shockingly common in young kids —all you have to do is pick them up wrong), but Avery has discovered via soft play club after school that landing on or being thrown at a soft surface is extremely enjoyable.

“Please, dad, just chuck me! I won't get hurt,” she insists.

You, sitting on the floor by your bed, look up from the clothes you’re sorting into piles to smile at him. “Go on, handsome, just throw her.”

“I don't want to throw you,” Steve says unhappily, trying to ignore Avery where she’s sat pleadingly on the edge of the made bed. He’s putting your folded pyjamas away in the dresser.

“Please, dad, please, please, please!” she begs, climbing from her knees onto wobbly feet.

Steve sighs. Today hasn’t necessarily been long or anything, as it’s a Sunday, so you’re home. When you’re home, you insist on handling the majority of childcare to give Steve as much of a break as he can get, which isn’t often a break at all because you have three kids and a house and a lot of chores that are unavoidable. Steve reveres your efforts. You work all week just like he does, and at least he gets the pleasure of being surrounded by the people he loves. A full work week and everyday you come home tired but willing to keep on fighting until bedtime.

He closes the dresser drawer. Realistically, there is no reason to say no to Avery. He isn’t so tired as to not be able to play for a bit, and he knows himself well enough to know he won't hurt her.

He crouches gently and opens his arms. “Fine. C’mere, Ave.”

She launches herself at him. Steve picks her up, and he rocks her lanky but still so small body in his arms, each rock a threat that prompts an excited laugh from his oldest. She screams with joy when he finally throws her into the bed, her body bouncing up toward the pillows (two for you, about six for him).

“Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to drop you,” Steve teases.

She giggles giddily and crawls back to the end of the bed for another go.

You pause with clothes unfolded in your hands. Kids wear altogether too many clothes. Dove must change three times a day, Bethie too, your youngest girls both burdened with a penchant for mess. Avery is much better, but even if they were the neatest girls in the world they’d still make a mountain of laundry at the end of the week.

Simply put, you’re sick of clothes. It’s much more fun to watch Avery scream with joy as Steve scoops her up and drops her down again. He looks nice tonight, like he always does, lean but tough, not as fit as he once was because there’s no time for swimming when you’re raising kids but really, really pretty. The suggestion of his biceps strain against his short sleeve t-shirts, and when he pulls Avery up against his chest his shirt gets caught and you can see his soft tummy.

“What is happening?”

You turn to the source of the new voice. Your second oldest, Bethie, stands in the doorway in her white nightie, hand in hand with your toddler, Dove. Dove is in very sweet, very small pyjamas, thin white cotton dotted with dainty blue flowers. They wear twin expressions, an apprehensive sort of confusion. They can hear the laughter and they want to be involved. You can’t blame them; Avery’s squealing in her disorientation, having way too much fun.

“Dad’s throwing your sister,” you say.

Bethie takes a step back. Not from fear, never, but because she’s a shy girl who doesn’t like asking for things. You don’t understand how you managed to make a daughter so different from your first, but you're delighted anyways. You love her exactly how she is.

“Do you want to play, too?” you ask her, setting aside the last pile of folded clothes.

“No,” she mumbles.

Steve tosses Avery at the pillows again and turns to the newcomers as she rolls. “Hello,” he says sweetly. “Now all my favourite girls are in one place! Come here, Beth, let me see you.”

Bethie is the world’s biggest daddy’s girl, immediately dropping Dove’s hand to crowd Steve’s knees. Dove’s happy to be set free. She squeezes through all the hubbub to flop into your lap, kicking over a neat pile of laundry as she goes.

“What’s this?” Steve asks Bethie as he picks her up. He smooths a hand down her face. “What have you done here? You have a little mark.”

“I don't know,” she says.

“No? You know what I think? I think it’s–” He tosses her in the space Avery vacated. Bethie is shocked beyond words and delighted by his deception, screaming as she lands in the rumpled sheets. Steve laughs at her laughing, and quickly moves around to the side of the bed to check he hasn’t done any lasting damage. “I thought you’d like that,” he says, hands sliding under her shoulders.

“Do you want a go?” you ask Dove.

Dove can’t speak much yet. She knows lots of words and fractions of sentences, but all her pronouns are messed up, and she doesn’t like speaking anyways. She’s a quiet girl like Beth, though she doesn’t quite have her older sister's happy disposition, and she frowns at you.

“Want boppy,” she says.

You wrap your arm around her to feel her stomach like that might reveal a certain truth. “You’re hungry?” you ask, rubbing her side. “Okay, baby, let's go get your bottle.”

“She had loads at dinner,” Steve says. “I’m not sure why she’d be hungry.”

You laugh, because when he turns to you he has the two girls under his arms like bags of flour. They laugh and squirm to be released. Steve pretends to drop them, hiking them up again with a grin when their giggles thicken.

“She’s a growing girl. Why don’t we all go have some milk, milk and cookies?” you ask, giving Dove an indulgent kiss.

“Two seconds,” Steve says over the sound of excited agreement, “just need to–”

Steve throws the girls into your bed again.

“Dad!” Avery scolds, her hair ruffled, her t-shirt collar rolled. “I’m fragile.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” He turns to you with a showful glare. Vindicated at last.

Bethie stands up, an uncharacteristic loudness to her as she says, “Again, dad, please!”

Steve has trouble saying no to any of the girls but especially Beth. he drags her onto his chest and gets ready to toss her.

“I’ll meet you downstairs?” you ask knowingly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

—

more of this au <3

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beiasluv · 1 year

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hi im in love with ur writing

anyway

my bby boy neteyam and aonung need to be happy because that last fic destroyed me, what would happen if reader survived and the sully family just cling to her for days same with aonung

a/n: glad to hear that people are suffering (just joking 😳, writing that took a part of my soul as well) anyways, fluff to the rescue 🤍 / this would be a continuation of part 1 but just imagine and do your own editing that you survived

masterlist

enjoy! :)

surprise, the sullys were doubting if they would be able to save you in time. neteyam sprinting to the village on his ilu and holding on to your body as fast as he could

while his family are fighting against the demon-blooded na’vi, he couldn’t muster up a will to go one glimpse away from you. your boy was holding on to his dear lifee

ronal, the tsahik, sighed once more of the sight before her. another sully for her to save; but she waited no second, and dove right into it.

“boy, put pressure on her chest …now!” neteyam got into work as his shakiness submerged to his hand. as if everything was a blur, ronal finished her ceremony on your body and stitched up your open, now opened chest. the herbs and the smoke lingered in the air after ronal went out, but her spirit never left the marui. the tsahik, herself, cared greatly for whom her son adored.

your boi, neteyam is panicking to the panicking. he washed a cold cloth over your face every minute and every second he sees a sweat running down your face. big brother mode to the max. swatting every flies that dared to touch you.

he would tell stories, make jokes, and laughing by himself to preserve his sanity. admiring your face, something he wouldn’t do while you are awake. unexpected sobs and tears, here and there. he waited for you until the end.

jake and neytiri came rushing through when they’ve finished. jake holding on to your body as tight as he could. pressing his hand against your chest, making sure there is still a heartbeat in you.

neytiri’s eye fluctuated between anger, sadness, and love. she couldn’t decide whether what to feel in the heat of the moment. her daughter, the daughter of the clan, the awaited daughter, was sleeping mindlessly on the mattress. she didn’t know what to feel. neytiri often broke down quietly in front of your marui and the sullys would comfort her.

our boi, lo’ak, peaked at your marui every. day. he would be too shy to go in alone and express his feelings towards you. when he doesn’t even know if you are aware or still coming back, he would break tf down. 😭

kiri and tuk, the girlss. taking care of you everyday, slayed. they would do your hair and singing lullaby. kiri would occasionally sobs but she had to stay strong for tuk. tuk would cry and lay on your stomach, maybe sometimes curling under your arms ;-;

SPIDER 👁👁 nah, he ain’t surviving. in the heat of the conversation, he did not choose a wise choice of words. now, he’s regretting his life choices. neteyam giving him disgusting looks everyday. lo’ak almost gifted him with a chance to go see ewya.

he still thinks you should’ve been left for good. quaritch made it clear to him blah, blah, blah. “if only one dies for jake sully, then we’re done.” no, we are not having any of your shi

ao’nung sad boyy. a certified lover boy, caring for your condition, as he should. always always ask his mom how are you and if she could help you again. tsireya started getting sick of him, slay

“mother, are you sure that’s all you could do?” he marched swiftly after her. “there must be something you could discover.”

“no means no, ao’nung, it is up to the great mother,” she replied swatting his arm. “you worry for no good, she is strong, i can feel that her spirit is mighty.”

“a sick lover boy, i see,” tsireya giggled. “don’t worry, she’s going to make it.”

ao’nung bringing snacks and flowers to your marui everyday as. he. should. i mean, placing them nicely by your bedside, and throwing them at neteyam. almost cost them a fight but for the sake of you, they agreed to seize the war.

he will definitely kill anyone who mocks you and your condition 100%

until the moment they have waited for arrived, you twitched.

neteyam almost got a heart attack. he was as excited as a mom to a baby’s first kick.

“y/n! y/n! thank the great mother! yes! my baby sister! I knew it!” he jumped around the marui like a maniac, earning looks from the villagers around him. the news traveled far and fast; moments later the sullys and ronal’s family were filling the marui.

“y/n, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand two times,” jake spoke softly. “one…c’mon babygirl…one more…two! yes!” the whole marui celebrated as if you were running and flying, but that’s what family is for, right?

everyday you healed more and more. your first walk out of the marui was like a flashback to your first walk. jake holding your arm, neytiri holding your other arm, and lo’ak holding your waist.

“guys, i can walk” “we know.”

lo’ak feeding you foods, 10/10

jake will spoil you, amen. his baby girl wants, she will get. you don’t even have to move an inch to get something you want.

kiri and tuk are not as protective, which you appreciated a lot, but they are always supportive. kiri will encourage you to take a dip in the ocean, playing in the forest, or doing the things you love to do.

hugs and kisses every moment they could. aaaaaa

family cuddling time. jake will hold you in his embrace and snuggled you close to him. neytiri holding you two. the rest snuggled in and you guys are basically a family ball.

the family overall is clinging on to you to make sure you’re okay. as they said, sullys sticks together, am i right.

ao’nunggggg

they day you woke up he was so happy, running down the village to your marui. got him blushing and shi when you met his eyes in the corner.

tsireya is so relieved when she heard you woke up, she thought have to comfort her broken brother while being broken herself.

ao’nung just clings to you wherever you go. he will get anyone out of your way if it is necessary.

he just loves to bring you out to the ocean and spend time with you, awh. practice breathing underwater and chasing underwater is a must.

once he realized he almost lose his chance. one day, he managed to muster up a courage to ask you OUT.

“y/n, you wanna see baby ilus today?” he guided you through the village. “today is their first day coming out.”

“sure, are you luring me to somewhere private?” “are you doing to kill me?”

“of course not,” he tucked a hair behind your ear.

…

“y/n, i gotta tell you something,” he gazed into your eyes. “i- i…”

“yes?”

“i see you, but i don’t know if you see too,” he sighed. “I know, i have been a bad friend to your brothers but i am trying so hard for you. and you sleeping unconscious for weeks had me dying-“ you placed a peck on his soft blue lips and held his hand.

“i know, thank you,” you giggled at his red cheeks. “thought you were cold blooded but your face is so red now.”

“hey! it’s just so hot here!” “i guess this calls for a slash in the ocean,” without a second word, he pulled you into the ocean and called his ilu. you guys rode it into the reefs and entered a hiding leaf.

“i see you, y/n”

“i see you, too”

lost of love ❤️ happy new year and have a great time! today’s a great day to take care of yourself 🤍

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @loudcolorwolfgarden / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin

#avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #avatar #neteyam imagine #lo’ak imagine #jake sully imagine #neytiri #neteyam x reader #fanfiction

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captainfightingflower · 10 months

Text

I saw a GLIMPSE of the revealed Tee K.O. 2 Devil Mom avatar and i INSTANTLY started crying in distress because of just how bad it looked!

How are these getting worse and worse?! This pack is going to be the death of me if a single glimpse of an avatar is making me react THIS harshly! What are the staff on....

#Jackbox games #the jackbox party pack 10 #tee K.O. 2 #fighting flower expresses herself #again. no ill will towards the artists: i'm just baffled it ever got APPROVED!!#the more avatars get revealed: the more i'm motivated to make a texture back that replaces them with better original avatars!#something tells me that the casual players are going to feel VERY alienated by this shameful sequel

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blchrsworld · 4 months

Text

my heart just can’t be faithful for long | billie eilish x fem reader

synopsis. billie and you have been arguing constantly for some time now. after a night out, she starts an argument and you can’t take it anymore.

cw. arguing, verbal fighting, breakup, mentions of cheating, toxic relationship, angst

soundtrack. cry - cigarettes after sex

length. short

The night started nicely as Billie and you went out to party for one of your co-stars all up until a fight erupted between the two of you.

“It doesn’t fucking matter Billie – I never paid any mind to him once tonight!” With Billie following closely behind, you quarreled as you strode into the kitchen and angrily set your Chanel handbag on the counter. With an irate expression on her face, Billie placed her hands on either side of the countertop and said, "You are so full of shit." Her blue eyes met yours.

For almost four months, you and Billie had been having fights on a regular basis. Billie first accused you of cheating on her with your close friend, Jacob Elordi, who was also one of your co-stars in a recent film. Billie would obsess over the friendship, envisioning the worst case scenarios.

The relationship was not ideal because of long distance, especially since you were working on new tv shows and movies while Billie was working on her next album.

The anger that shot through you caused your face to flush, and you detested Billie for having provoked such a reaction in you over such a baseless accusation. Your eyes began to burn and well up with tears.

You confess in a nervous tone, concentrating on your nails to divert your attention from sobbing, "Billie, I can't do this anymore."

“What?” Billie asked in a sharp tone, glancing up at you as she noticed how exhausted you appeared.

When you lifted your head to gaze up at your partner of two years, you knew it was time to part ways. For now, anyway, until you two resolved your differences. You looked at Billie with a knowing expression in your eyes as a tear raced down your cheek and fell onto the dark wood countertop.

You could have sweared at that very moment that Billie's life was flashing before her eyes. She began to recognize herself and felt hopelessness creep in.

“No.” Billie spoke in an emotionless tone.

“Billie this needs to st-“

"No, no, no." Billie reiterated, at which point you sighed haltingly at her manners and closed your eyes, considering your next move and how it would affect your two-year relationship.

Your brain was warning you against giving in to her because, after all, she was the cause of the teary-eyed, restless nights. You now had a different perspective on yourself because of her. You were unsure if there was a problem with you for her to question your commitment. Although your brain was filled with a deep hatred for her, there was always a small part of you that could not help but love her.

Your heart.

That was the aspect of you that people noticed the most that was not physical. No matter how much your mind tried to remind you of the harm Billie had caused you, your heart was unable to stop loving her.

What made your heart explode was the little things about your relationship with Billie that no one else would see.

Like when she would lay her eyes on you, she would always have that sparkle in them. Or the fact that you would run out of room in your house when she would bring you flowers three times a week just because. She was always your plus one and never sought to usurp your attention, no matter what premier you had.

You walked around the counter and put your hand on hers, saying, "It's the right thing to do, Billie," but she withdrew her hand.

"It's Jacob isn't it?"

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at the remark, but you could understand her point of view and chose to stay calm. At last, her puffy red eyes looked up at you, and you croaked, "It's not him Billie, or anyone at all, it's the fact that you can't trust me anymore."

"I can fix it, we can fix it," Billie said, her eyes sad, as you returned the look with a shake of your head.

“I’ve tried — for the past four months already,” you retort with a distasteful look.

You were tired of Billie playing the victim and needed to leave this relationship.

You had never felt anything like this before, as your heart began to slowly break. Your chest started to fill with air more quickly than you could handle. You tried to knead your chest to ease the pain by placing your hand over your heart, but it didn't work. You had to leave Billie as the agony got worse and make your way to the living room.

It was when your body began to relax on the back of a couch that you broke completely. You silently started to cry, and you did so for what seemed like an eternity until you felt two arms encircle your shoulders and firmly grasp you.

Knowing it was Billie, you attempted to shake her off of you like she was a parasite, but your body was too weak from crying, so you just sobbed more in frustration when you realized there was no way to get rid of her.

“I’m sorry.”

You were filled with even more pain when she spoke those words, knowing that no matter how hard she tried to change things for the better, it would never work out. Although your thoughts strayed to all of your previous arguments and how mentally exhausted they left you, you still wanted to think that she could change for the better.

Billie withdrew and longingly gazed into your eyes as you sniffed, "You should go."

"I can't live without you Y/N," Billie vowed.

You cupped her face, wiping a tear from her cheek with your thumb, and said, "It's what's best for the both of us—you and I both know it."

Billie gazed into your eyes for a considerable amount of time, and for a long moment there was silence—it was like you two were communicating only by making eye contact.

“Goodbye Y/N.”

You refused to give Billie a glance and instead focused on your nails until you heard the front door close, which indicated that she had left.

You slept with a cold spot next to you and an empty mind after that, hoping that Billie would eventually own up to her mistakes and return to complete each other's lives...

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish angst #fem reader #billie eilish x fem reader #angst #billie eilish imagine #blchrsworld

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pearlywritings · 11 months

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His little hero

synopsis: it was you who always saved him from nightmares, but it seems that another precious girl decided to take that role upon herself.

pairing and characters: (implied) Kaveh x fem!reader, your daughter

tw: established relationship, hurt/comfort, girldad!Kaveh, domestic moment

word count: 1.2k+ words

a/n: I am slowly coming back, and let’s say this small fic is the first step of me returning on my way of writing

"Dad!"

Kaveh jolts upright with a startled gasp, pink padparadscha eyes wide and chest heaving. Blood is thumping in his veins, in his head, in his throat, in his everywhere, turning the whole world in the sounds of his widely beating heart. He doesn't register how sweaty he is or how his frame is trembling - the veil of sleep is too thick to shake it off of his conscience.

"Dad?"

Oh, but he has to, he needs to fight it and get a hold on reality. Shaking his head and making the hair messier than before, the man in his late thirties turns to look to his side, only to be met with the same soft gem-like eyes, reflecting the light of a nightstand lamp. Wait, the lamp has been turned on? Or did he forget to switch it off in the evening, after he told his daughter, who sneaked into her parents' room and wormed her way to her father's side, many stories to lull her to sleep? And why is there such immeasurable worry on the surface of these pinkish pools, staring at him without blinking?

He wants to lift his hand to rub at his eyes, but realizes that two small hands of a five-years old have an almost death grip on his long fingers. What has frightened her so much? He is sure he didn't tell her any horror stories - he probably wouldn't have been able to fall asleep himself. Then what is it-

"Dad, what's wrong..?” It twists his heart, how sad and small she sounds. “I am scared… are you okay?"

She is scared..? Of him? Or…for him?

Shit.

"I'm fine," Archons, this tired and hoarse voice is so strange, yet painfully familiar to him. Kaveh turns to face her properly and reaches the free hand to gently cup her little cheek, fore and middle fingers smoothing her locks behind her ear. “I really am,” he tries to sound softer, leaning down and placing a kiss to her forehead, pushing his fears behind to comfort his sweet girl. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, don’t look so sad.”

“But…but you were crying…” her lower lip trembles and the man immediately brings her close to his chest, folding legs and settling her against them. Artistic fingers carefully adjust her cute flower-patterned pajama, smoothing the fabric and rubbing at her back intact with the rocking of the architect’s body. Lips press to the top of her head, sweetly murmuring words of reassurance and promises that he really is fine.

He wants to believe he is. After all, Kaveh has an amazing wife, a child - the most wonderful girl in the whole world, he has a stable well-paying job, a nice house he built for his little family, great friends (maybe just a little bit annoying at times), and everyone around him is happy. He is happy.

But sometimes… Sometimes he is so-so scared of losing it all. To not hear the laughter in tavern at the table his pals reserved, to not have a home to come back to, to once again struggle with providing for his loved ones, to not have this bundle of sunshine in his arms, calling him ‘dad’ and expressing her happiness through the brightest smile on her adorable face, to not kiss you good morning and good night while holding your hand and smoothing his thumb over the metal of a band wrapped around your finger.

He knows how easy it is to lose everything - it happened to him way too many times he’d like to admit. And now, when he has so many wonderful things all at once? He cannot stop thinking about it occasionally. The nightmare of such a kind shouldn’t be surprising, but must've it really come to him, when his daughter sought her dad's cuddles on a night when you went for a sleepover to your friend’s?

Kaveh sighs heavily, running a palm down his face, as if wiping the remnants of sleep and clinging worries, refocusing his gaze on a child in his lap. She sniffles a couple of times quietly, but doesn’t look like she is about to cry, though the man is fully prepared to comfort her. Instead, she bumps her forehead against his ribs, butting them.

“Do you miss mom?” He has to strain his ears to hear that, but he does. Running his digits through her silky locks, the architect hums, glancing at the photo of you three on his nightstand - it depicted the moment right after he sneaked behind you, lifting you bridal style, while your girl was in your arms. Ah, her and your smiles are the sunniest, and he knows you’d say that his is just as beaming.

“Of course I miss mom, baby.”

“Were you crying because of it?”

Ah… Of course she is still worried for him. It kind of reminds Kaveh of himself - though he was older and it was to his mom.

The sudden comparison makes him shudder.

May his daughter never experience the same thing.

“I don’t know, love. I had a nightmare, but I don’t remember much,” half-truth and half-lie. He might not remember the details, but he knows what caused it. “You saved me from it though. You know what it makes you?”

“I saved you?” She lifts her head and his heart melts at the sight of her eyes, widened in astonishment. “I really did?”

“Mhm, you did.”

“Am I… a hero?”

She is. Just like her mother.

“You are, little feather. The greatest hero, the conqueror of nightmares, the savior of dads!”

She giggles, hiding her face in his chest, turning bashful. He kisses the top of her head again, cuddling her small body into his, sensing how with every second spent in his daughter’s dazzling presence less and less fears remain in his heart and brain. She truly is a wonder. His and your wonder.

“I am like mom!” Oh, many would beg to differ, considering the stark resemblance the girl holds to her father, but Kaveh knows what she means. “You say mom saves you every day.”

“She does,” an almost dreamy sigh escapes him, “she really does. But even heroes sometimes get tired and have to restore their power. That is why mom is out today having fun with her friends, whom she hasn’t seen for a long time. As for the little heroes, they should sleep at night to grow into even mightier heroes. So why don’t we-”

“For how long?” The girl cuts him off, lifting her head again and glancing at the man with curiosity. “A day?”

“No,” he chuckles, realizing that’s going to take a while now to get her to sleep, “longer than that.”

“Hm… Two days?”

“No, it’s not like the weekend at school.”

“Three days!?”

This time he shakes his head, listening with a smile to how the number of days keeps growing along with the size of her eyes and opening mouth. It never seizes to amaze him how a simple conversation with her makes everything so much better. There is a slither of guilt about waking her up and worrying her so much with his state, but watching her play the guessing game eagerly only five minutes after she was ready to cry for him - soothes Kaveh.

Moving closer to the headboard and settling against it, the blond decides to entertain her more, until she is sleepy enough to get back to the dreamland. After all, even the little heroes need rest, and that’s the least he can do for his.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #kaveh #dad!kaveh #genshin impact fluff

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imagines--galore · 3 months

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||The Thread of Fate|| Part Nine

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight,

A/N: So I didn't mean to stay away for so long but then life happened :/ Anyway! Hope you guys enjoy this REALLY long chapter!

To say it had been a close call would be an understatement. Not only had they escaped the Fire Nation Princess as well as the Fire Nation in the past few weeks, but somehow had managed to evade capture once more by two unknown assailants from the Earth Kingdom.

Hiding away in flower pots had certainly not been a comfortable idea, but it proved effective.

While the shopkeeper's son wheeled them away from the small village that had offered them refuge, Orora's mind caught up with all that had happened since yesterday.

Finding someone to help them.

The strange Pai Sho game.

The White Lotus Tile.

Escaping the Oasis.

Iroh's strange meeting.

Falling asleep on Zuko's shoulder.

The last one had a blush stealing across her cheeks, and the memory of it had her stomach flipping in on itself.

It was ridiculous just how strangely her body was reacting to what had happened. Especially when the waking up part had involved Zuko suddenly jumping to his feet and her body flopping to the side on the dirt floor.

He didn't even apologize for it, which only added to her annoyance of having been so rudely awakened.

As her annoyance faded to mild irritation, her mind began to wander had just how much her life had changed within the past few months.

Not only had she left home and her family, but she had also found herself a Master who could teach her. Her healing abilities had increased exponentially given the severity of the patients she had taken care of, not to mention how many she had treated. She had learned how to fight, a feat she was most proud of considering she barely had any training. The Moon Spirit herself had visited her and offered her advice. Her fingers unconsciously brushed against the white patch in her hair.

And then there was the fact that she had also found her soulmate.

Albeit one she could never accept but still. Not a lot of girls from the Northern Water Tribe claimed to have found their soulmates. Most of them had their marriages arranged to someone of their father's choosing before they could do so.

So perhaps she was fortunate enough to know who he was.

Just too bad he was the Fire Nation Prince.

Running a hand down her face the water bender sighed. "I need to stop fixating on him so much." She muttered to herself.

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Boarding the boat that would carry them closer to their destination went about with no obstacles. Which was strange considering up till now whatever plan that was made hit a snag or two along the way. Still, she wasn't about to question fate and did remain on guard should anything go awry.

Her blue eyes were focused on the dock as it slowly grew smaller as the boat sailed away. Her Master had expressed his excitement by proclaiming himself a tourist, while Zuko remained as he preferred.

Pouting and brooding in a corner.

She barely overheard what they were speaking of, content on simply gazing at the clear water. She could see her reflection in it, could see the white patch of hair she had been blessed with.

Was that what it was then? A blessing by the Moon Spirit. Lifting her hand she brushed the tips of her fingers against the strands, tilting her head as she continued to observe her reflection. She wasn't someone who cared too much about her looks, but she didn't think she was unpleasant to look at. Cutting off her hair had been humbling in her opinion, and necessary. And the short hair did suit her, the strands now coming to just curl under her chin, the tips barely touching her collarbone. Still was she someone who could be described as being pretty? She pursed her lips, dropping her hand and shaking her head. Honestly, what was wrong with her? There were other more pressing things to worry about then her appearance.

"Orora, my dear." Iroh's voice barely registered in her mind, so lost she was as she gazed at the water, though she did make a small humming sound, to show she had heard him.

"It would seem there are a few passengers in need of your abilities."

That got her attention. Standing straight, the young girl followed his line of sight to see a young mother trying to console her small child. The little boy's arm was in makeshift sling, and even from here Orora could see how awkwardly the boy was holding his arm.

With an encouraging nod from her Master, the young waterbender slowly approached the duo. The mother looked up as she came closer.

"I'm sorry if his crying is disturbing you. It's just he's hurt an-" Orora shook her head, letting her lips curve into what she hoped was a friendly smile. "That is not the reason why I came. I'm a Healer, and I wanted to see if I could do something to help him."

So saying she bent down on her knees and reached out a hand towards the boy. "May I?" The mother looked a little unsure, but the child let out a loud whimper and she relented. Removing the sling, Orora uncorked her water pouch and coated her hands with the liquid. It glowed under her touch, mesmerizing the boy and distracting him from the pain as well as the fever that raged through his tiny body.

"It is a small break, but one I will be able to fix." Orora observed. She pressed her hands atop the boy's arm and took a deep breath. The blue glow around her hands intensified briefly before dying down. "Now try to move your arm." She encouraged with a smile, once she had removed her hands.

The boy was hesitant at first, but when no pain radiated from his injury, he let out a bright, happy laugh before swinging his arm around. Orora couldn't help but laugh lightly at his enthusiasm. "Well, it looks like you're all better now." She turned her attention to the mother who was looking at her in utter disbelief.

"He'll need something to make sure his fever goes away." Reaching into her bag she pulled out a small pack of leaves. "So just add this in his water and he should b-" The next moment all the breath was knocked right out of her as the mother all but threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around Orora in a tight embrace. "Thank you. Thank you so much." She all but sobbed. For her part, Orora patted the woman awkwardly on the back a few times.

When it came to physical displays of affection, her life had been quite lacking. Her father had never hugged her, her mother would only brush her hair in affection. The only embrace Orora could recall was one she had received from her grandmother. And that was so long ago.

She barely remembered it.

Once she was free of the embrace, the young girl quickly stood up and nodded at the small family before quickly retreating to where her two travel companions were. She moved to resume her previous stance when a voice stopped her.

"Why did you help them?"

Her head turned sharply in Zuko's direction. He was standing up against the support beam she had just passed, arms folded and a rather irritated look on his face. Which was the norm really.

"We're supposed to be keeping a low profile. You can't just go around and heal people." His words had her sighing in an almost exasperated manner. "Tell me Lee." The use of his other name sounded strange upon her tongue, and if Zuko were honest a tiny part of him didn't like hearing that name coming from her lips.

He much preferred Zuko.

Without so much as a hint of emotion in her features she continued. "If you came across a person, begging for water, and what you had was the last of your reserve would you give it to them?"

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The silence that followed her words stretched on. Both teenagers refused to look away from the other, having started some sort of staring contest where neither wished to admit defeat. However there were subtle differences between their expressions.

Orora's face was tilted upwards slightly, silently challenging Zuko to answer and nearly taunting him with her eyes as she did. Zuko, on his part, had his lips pursed, and while Orora's stance was more relaxed and at ease, it was clear there was an inner battle that raged within the banished prince.

Then again, there was always a battle raging within him every waking hour.

Unable to bear the intensity of Orora's gaze, he was the first one to look away. The girl let out a small sound that was a mix between disappointment and annoyance. "When you're ready to give an answer to my question, I'll answer yours." She said referring to what he had asked earlier. With that she walked past him towards Iroh who stood nearby trying to act as if he wasn't paying attention to them. And failing at it.

"I'm going to take a walk around the deck. See if anyone else needs my help." With a nod of confirmation from her teacher, Orora gripped the shoulder of her water satchel and with one backward glace in Zuko's direction, walked off.

The young prince watched her as she left. He couldn't understand why she went about helping people like she did. Sure she had done it in the past, but that was mostly to get some money for provisions. These people couldn't give her any money.

Was she simply doing it out of kindness?! Was that even possible for a person to do given how dangerous things could get for her. She was a girl after all. Not defenseless, but still an easy target.

The thought of Orora being an easy target for anyone looking to take advantage of her had a sickening feeling settle in the pit of his stomach.

And it had nothing to do with the smell of the food he had received while he had been lost in contemplation. Pushing away the unpleasant thought, he turned his attention to the broth in his bowl and made a face. It looked like dirt, and he was sure it tasted like that too. He raised the bowl to his lips and no sooner had the broth touched his lips when he spat it right out.

"Ugh! I'm sick of eating rotten food." He growled, looking like he wanted to throw the bowl into the water. "Sleeping in the dirt. I'm tired of living like this!" Maybe it was the hunger gnawing at his stomach that had his previous emotions rising to the surface. Or maybe it was the thought of a certain waterbender getting hurt somehow.

"Aren't we all?" The voice came as a sudden distraction, prompting Zuko and his Uncle to look in the direction of the speaker. A teenage boy with a stalk of wheat in his mouth stepped into their line of sight. He was flanked by two younger teenagers. "My name's Jet and these are my Freedom Fighters, Smellerbee and Longshot." He introduced himself and his companions. The girl, Smellerbee, greeted back, Longshot simply gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

"Hello." Zuko spoke in a slightly dismissive tone, hoping they would go away. However, what Jet said next caught his undivided attention.

"Here's the deal. I hear the captain's eating like a king while the refugees have to feed off his scraps. Doesn't seem fair, does it?" Iroh, who was normally against stealing but couldn't deny his hunger spoke up. "What sort of king is he eating like?"

"The fat, happy kind." Jet stated in a slightly sarcastic tone. Hearing this Iroh's mouth hung open, as his mind began to concoct all sorts of delicious meals the captain might be eating at that moment. Jet turned his attention back to Zuko. "You want to help us "liberate" some food?" He asked with a smirk. Glancing down at the disgusting slop Zuko gripped it tighter in his hand before tossing it into the water. "I'm in."

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With one final deep breath, Orora lifted her hands from the leg she had finished healing. "There. That should heal it." She informed the previously ailing old man who gave her a smile of disbelief and gratitude. His old wife reached out to clasp her hand in a motherly way. "Thank you so much my dear. We were afraid he wouldn't be able to find work with his injured foot when we got into Ba Sing Se." Orora smiled. "Well no need to worry about that now."

As she watched the old couple walk away, the man with an obvious spring in his step, her smile disappeared and she fell to the side, catching herself on the wooden railing. Raising a hand to her head, the young girl pressed her fingers against her temple to try and alleviate the pain that radiated from there. She had been healing for a good few hours now. And though she had had breaks inbetween where she would give out medicinal herbs to those who were sick, she had barely found time to stop and just rest. Let alone eat.

The sun had set a good hour or so ago. Maybe that was enough healing for the day. Her arms were aching from the multiple healing sessions, and her body felt heavy with tiredness. Was this what it felt like to heal people for such a long time? Your entire body felt like it was half-dead? Maybe she had overdone it.

But those people had needed her help, she told herself as she walked back to her travel companions, bending fresh water from the lake and into her water satchel. "Good evening, Orora." Iroh greeted as she sat down next to him. Giving a small nod, the girl stifled a yawn. "And to you Master." She glanced around, frowning slightly when she didn't see any sign of Zuko. "He has made some new friends." Iroh answered her unspoken question, prompting her to look at him in surprise. He simply smiled at her. She blushed at having been caught, but her embarrassment was forgotten when Zuko appeared with three other teenagers, bags over their shoulders.

Bags that was filled with food.

While Jet, as Iroh quickly informed her, distributed the food to the rest of the refugees, Zuko brought over several bowls of what looked like fresh food towards them. Iroh quickly accepted a bowl of noodles and began to slurp them down happily. Orora stared at the bowl Zuko held out towards her.

Their eyes locked, gold on blue, their string shorter when they were close. Slowly she reached out to take the bowl, their fingers brushing as she did. "Thank you."

It wasn't long before she had eaten her fill and was beginning to feel even more sleepier then before. Zuko had settled down beside her eating his own food.

Having distributed all the food, Jet came to sit down with them. She was only able to give him a nod of acknowledgement before resuming her semi-dozing state, trying hard not to fall asleep completely.

"From what I heard, people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se." Said Jet. "I can't wait to set my eyes on that giant wall." He continued sounding almost wistful as he did. Iroh nodded. "It is a magnificent sight." Jet leaned forward, eager to hear more. "So you've been there before?"

The shift in conversation had Orora momentarily forgetting about her lack of sleep as both she and Zuko turned their attention towards Iroh. "Once. When I was a different man." The sadness and despair in his usually twinkling eyes made Orora's heart ache and she reached out to rest a hand on top of his in comfort. Her Master patted her head, silently showing he appreciated her concern for him.

Jet pursed his lips before speaking. "I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of, but that's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se: for a new beginning. A second chance." For someone talking about the future he didn't sound so hopeful about it, Orora mused to herself.

"That's very noble of you." Iroh spoke, nodding at the teenager. "I believe people can change their lives if they want to." He glanced at his nephew. "I believe in second chances." Zuko too glanced at his Uncle, though his amber eyes shifted to Orora who rubbed the heel of her palm against her eye, yawning as she did. Iroh noticed too, prompting him to reach out and pat her on the shoulder.

"Perhaps you should turn in, my dear. You've had a tiring day." Wordlessly the girl nodded, barely able to keep her eyes open. Slowly she rose to her feet, and had barely taken a step forward when a wave of dizziness overcame her, tilting her to the side and straight into Zuko. Luckily he was quick enough to catch her, though he almost fell back himself. "Orora?" The urgency in his voice was evident as he shook her shoulder. The girl mumbled something under her breath. His Uncle quickly looked the girl over and smiled in exasperation. "She has worked hard today and has passed out from being tired." He finally stated. Zuko scowled. "Well couldn't she have passed out on her bedroll?" Even with the words coming out of his mouth, his grip around her shoulder and waist did not let up.

If anything he seemed to hold her closer. Especially with Jet looking at her like he was. Zuko did not like it one bit.

"I will lay it out for her." Iroh quickly stood and went off to get a pillow and blanket from where they were stored on the ship for their use. Zuko gave a small nod of confirmation, stiffening when he felt Orora shifting a little in his arms before settling once more. Her head rested against his shoulder, and her lips were parted slightly as she breathed deeply. His features shifted to a look of concern as he quickly tried to figure out just how long she had been healing and helping people. And that too on an empty stomach. Of course, not that he could've done anything about it. She was much too stubborn to actually listen to him, but at least he would've had the chance to tell her off when she returned.

But then why should he care? A voice whispered in his head. A voice that sounded suspiciously like his sister's. Why should he care about a lowly waterbender? What was she to him?

"She your girlfriend?" Jet's question cut through his dangerous musings. Zuko leveled a particularly irritated glare in his direction. "No." He snapped, the very word laced with poison.

Just your soulmate, his brain supplied, as Jet raised his hands in a gesture that showed he meant no harm before getting up and going to look for his companions. Zuko stayed where he was, and this time he purposefully avoided looking at the girl passed out in his arms. As soon as his Uncle returned with the pillow and blanket, he laid her down on the hard floor and left her to sleep.

And if he was extra gentle with his movements as he laid her down, he did not think too much of it.

And if he lingered over her, watching her as she settled to make sure she was as comfortable as he could get, his Uncle did not mention it.

And if he leaned back down to pull the blanket over her shoulder properly so she would not be cold, Zuko pretended that he didn't, consciously, allow his fingers to brush against the soft skin of her cheek as he pulled back.

And if he happened to glance at the string around their fingers glimmer with color, he ignored it completely.

————————–

Being on your own isn't always the best path.

His own words resonated in his ears and his mind from his recent conversation with Jet. As he watched the docks grow in size as they neared their destination, Zuko couldn't help but think over what he had said. He had tried that. He had spent nearly a month on his own and it had gotten him nowhere.

If anything, things had gotten only worse for him. Maybe he had gotten used to having someone around him.

His Uncle had been by his side since his banishment. He had been the unbreakable support Zuko had needed in his times of despair. And truthfully, he was the reason he had made it this far alive. How many times had his Uncle helped him out of difficult situations? Though he would never tell him, Zuko's affections and gratitude for his Uncle ran deep. And sometimes, even though he knew it was wrong, he wished that Iroh was his real father and not Ozai.

And then there was Orora. Someone who had come into his life and made it all the more complicated. He lifted the hand where the string was tied to his finger, and followed it's path to the other end. His soulmate stood next to Iroh. Her back was towards him, allowing him to observe her without it becoming awkward for either of them. Despite the fact that nothing would come out of them being each other's soulmates, he couldn't help but wander if mayb-

The sound of the whistle blowing cut through his thoughts as their boat finally docked. The crowd began to chatter excitedly as they made their way towards the gangplanks. Sighing to himself, he walked towards Uncle and Orora.

"Well now, just one more stop and we shall begin a new life together." His Uncle stated jovially as he led the way towards the gathering crowd.

Together.

Such an insignificant word that carried so much weight.

Orora glanced in his direction as she fell into step beside him. He allowed his gaze to meet her own for a brief moment before they both looked away.

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Orora was sure that the ticket woman who stood behind the booth had to be a distant relation to her old tutor, Ms. Chiyo. She had a certain look in her eye, one that Orora had dreaded as a child since those beady eyes would assess her every move looking for a slip up on her part.

The woman had been her manners and etiquette tutor for a good few years, and Orora had despised her. She had always been so harsh and could be downright cruel at times.

"So," The woman spoke, looking over their tickets and passports as the three of them stood in front of her. Mr. Lee, Ms. Orora and Mr. ummm ... Mushy, is it?

Iroh, ever the polite old man, corrected her. "It's pronounced Mushi." The already irritated woman's expression shifted to pure annoyance as she glared at Iroh. "You telling me how to do my job?" She demanded, her voice rising in pitch.

Sensing that perhaps he had done wrong, Iroh was quick to shake his head as he approached the ticket booth. "Uh, no, no." There was a brief pause on his part before he continued with a smile on his face that was, for lack of a better word, sickeningly sweet.

"But may I just say you're like a flower in bloom. Your beauty is intoxicating." Orora could feel her face morph in one of disbelief and slight disgust at the words coming out of her teacher's mouth. Beside her Zuko was no better, looking just as disgusted.

For a moment Orora was almost afraid the ticket woman would call the guards, but instead she smiled in what the young girl could only say was a flirtatious manner and return Iroh's smile.

"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself, handsome. Roar!"

Oh that part nearly had her bursting out into laughter. She clapped a hand to her mouth, while Zuko did the same but to his eyes, as if he had no desire to even witness what was going on in front of him.

"Welcome to Ba Sing Se." Their tickets were stamped, and they were officially citizens of Ba Sing Se. Iroh grinned happily as he collected the tickets and held them out for the two teenagers to take.

"I'm going to forget I saw that." Zuko grumbled before snatching his ticket and walking away. Orora accepted her ticket as well and followed after the prince, though she allowed herself to be amused by what had happened and let out a few giggles as she did.

Iroh brought up the rear, looking rather pleased with himself.

————————–

As they waited for their train to be called, Orora leaned back where she stood, watching as the refugees boarded the trains that would take them to their destination. It seemed strange to know that she would entering a city. She had only seen small towns and villages so far. But a city as big and grand as Ba Sing Se would surely be unmatched to what she had experienced so far. And that included the Northern Water Tribe.

A familiar voice broke her out of her thoughts. "So, you guys got plans once you're inside the city?"Jet asked as he sat down next to Zuko. Orora couldn't help but frown at the teenager's insistence to be around Zuko every chance he got. What was his problem anyway? She mused to herself, not even bothering to hide her scowl as she glared at the boy. Just then a Tea-seller walked by prompting Iroh to quickly get up and buy himself a cup of Jasmine. Though no sooner had he tasted the liquid when he began to lament his mistake. "Blaugh! Ugh, coldest tea in Ba Sing Se is more like it! What a disgrace!" Orora couldn't help but giggle, reaching out to pat her Master gently on the shoulder as consolation. "I'm sure we'll get you some nice warm tea when we get to the city, Master." He nodded in affirmation. "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Jet said motioning for Zuko to follow him. Zuko sighed and reluctantly rose, following after him.

Once more Orora found her eyes trained in the direction of the prince as he walked off. They stood a little ways away talking. But whatever the conversation was, it was over just as quickly as it began. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get caught and turned her attention to where Iroh was drinking his hot steaming tea happily.

Wait!

Hot?!

Steaming?!

A startled gasp fell from her lips, prompting Zuko to falter in his steps and follow her line of sight. His hand darted out to knock the cup of tea out of Iroh's hand. "Hey!" The old man protested even as his nephew leaned down to hiss at him through gritted teeth. "What're you doing firebending your tea?! For a wise old man, that was a pretty stupid move!"

"Honestly Master, that was reckless." Even Orora couldn't help but chime in. But Iroh wasn't listening to any of them, lamenting over his spilled tea. Orora glanced up toe Jet's retreating back. "He didn't see anything did he?" She spoke softly, dread filling her as she thought of what the boy might do should he discover that Zuko and Iroh were firebenders. "I don't think so. Besides, even if he did, he has no proof." Zuko stated firmly as a way of reassuring her as well as himself. The waterbender nodded, though there was a nervousness in her eyes that remained even as they boarded their train a few minutes later.

But then that all shifted to the very back of her mind as they exited the station and were greeted with their every first sight of Ba Sing Se. Eagerly looking out of the window, Orora couldn't help but stick her head out of the window and let out a little laugh of joy as the cool air brushed through her hair.

"I hope Ba Sing Se brings something new for us." She whispered to herself as she watched the scenic view pass by.

Beside her Zuko couldn't help but hope for the same.

————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos @violet-potter @rennysketch @emma-andrea1 @fuzzyfestcat

@msrawog

#zuko x y/n #zuko imagine #zuko x reader #zuko x oc #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar #the thread of fate #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last Airbender

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 1 year

Text

The More You Give ❧ (Part VI)

Pairing | Eddie Munson x shy!reader

Warnings | 18+ minors and blank blogs don’t interact, bullying, discussions of anxiety, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, protected P in V sex.

Word Count | ~16,400

A/N | Oh you won't be able to move for all the fluff. Cheeky shout-out to @heydreamchild for this post which made me lose my mind in the tags and think about Eddie's relationship with Wayne's mug collection.

Taglist (please don't ask to be tagged if you won't interact with the fic)

Previous Chapter

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You screw your eyes shut instead of watching the ping pong ball continue its high arch over the remaining cups on the other side of the table. You hear it hit the floor, the barely suppressed scoff across from you at another missed shot.

Your cheeks are burning, have been since you started this game. You open an eye to find May smiling at you encouragingly as she lines herself up for her turn. She’s more practised than you. Invited to more of these parties, asked to play more of these games. The ball flies from her hand and lands with a gentle splash in one of the three remaining cups in front of you, her expression now tinged with satisfaction. You can’t blame her, you’d look the same if you were good at any of this. You fish the ball out and sip the lukewarm beer for a second before forcing the rest of it down just to get this turn over with.

“Sorry,” you murmur, handing the ball to your partner and stepping aside to let him take his turn. Safely at the corner of the table, you glance quickly at the clock on the other side of the room. It reads 11:03pm, and you wonder if you could negotiate heading home by eleven thirty.

Not likely.

When you’d walked through the door, shoulders pressed between both your friends, you had yourself convinced that you would have a good time tonight. Tipsy from the white wine your mom let you drink under her supervision, warm with joy from an early evening spent with May and Heather in your room. It’s your favourite part of going out; the hour or two before. When it’s just the three of you, with nobody else to perform for, you fit right back together as you always did. Swapping gossip, exchanging compliments. Painting Heather’s nails a soft pink, her steady hands painting yours in return. You worked on May’s make up, smiled shyly into the mirror when she set your hair up the way you like it and told you with a pout how jealous she is of its texture.

You listened to Heather, gentle and happy at seeing her boyfriend, at the flowers he’d brought her. You spoke to May about the film you should rent for your next movie night; a comedy with popcorn or a weepy chick flick with chocolate. You’d watched from your bed, grinning and heartsore while May leaned into Heather’s shoulder, serenading her while she applied her lipstick. Heather rolled her eyes fondly as May crooned into her ear, “I can’t fight this feeling anymore!”

Later, head truly fuzzy from paint stripper vodka and lemonade, you’d screamed all the words to Power of Love with them. Hands in the air, hips swaying, content in the knowledge that, if everyone in the house has drank as much as you, none of them will care to remember how you danced and sang tonight. It was exactly as you wanted it to always be. With your friends, believing entirely, at least in the moment, that you still put each other first. That you were friends now not just because you used to be.

Only, Heather’s boyfriend had appeared like a grey cloud in the blue sky of your evening. Before you knew it, she was settled under his arm on a couch at the other side of the room, sipping light beer and talking with the friends he’d brought back from college for the weekend. All boys you can’t stand, and know May can’t stand either. The last time you saw them, when May had told them proudly that you were well on your way to NYU to study Comparative Literature, you’d watched two of them make eye contact, sniggering with each other into their beer. You weren’t proud of yourself for adding that you still might do Chemistry, not that it had helped much.

Soon after, May was called over by some cheer friends. She’d grasped your hand and pulled you along with her, both a blessing and a curse that she refuses to leave you out. Lacking some of your usual self-consciousness, both from your continual sips at your drink and the fact that Caroline, blessedly, hadn’t shown up, you’d managed a brief, fairly friendly chat with Tracy about whether she was wearing too much blush (she was) followed by how well the basketball team will do this year (hell if you know).

Then, when Josh, a boy May has had a simmering crush on since you were freshmen, invited her over to play beer pong, you let her pull you with her again. And here you are, paired with this boy in green and white. Ethan flashes his white toothed smile every time you miss a shot on account of your shaking hands. A charming smile that tells you how girls might get into trouble on his account; girls like Caroline, girls like Erin. You wonder if it was that smile that made Erin follow him upstairs that night, that made Caroline fall back into his arms with little complaint, all the blame placed elsewhere.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, squeezing the top of your arm before turning his attention to the table. May smiles at you again as Josh chugs beer down in a quick gulp, sending you all the signs of gratitude that make you feel guilty for thinking almost exclusively about the ways you could leave soon.

When it’s your turn again, you take stock of the cups across from you. Two on your side, four on theirs, so with any luck this is your last turn. You watch the ball just brush the opposite rim of one of the cups, before bouncing lamely to the table. “Okay, that one was close.” Ethan says kindly, elbowing you.

“Nah, her head’s in the clouds,” Josh says with a smirk, catching the ball and bouncing it a couple times off the table. “Too busy thinking about…Munson, right? Would not have thought that was your type, but uh, I guess that explains why you wouldn’t let Andy-”

“Leave her alone, Josh,” May cuts in, leaning away from him with a scowl. You feel a rush around your ears, your heart in your throat. You like to forget this fact, but sometimes you’re reminded of it like seeing it written in bright red neon. Just about everybody knows what happened between you and Andy to varying degrees of detail, and they can all use it against you whenever they want.

“It’s not that serious,” he says, the following laugh more defensive when May rolls her eyes. “You are dating the freak, right?”

Your toes curl. “Don’t call him that.”

“C’mon, man,” Ethan sighs. “You’re killing the mood.”

“It’s dead and buried,” May corrects, face set in that brilliant frown that gets your heart pumping when it’s directed at you.

Josh glances between the three of you, landing particularly on May and her crossed arms. He looks to Ethan again for support, throws his hands up when he finds none there. “Fine,” he says, smacking his teeth. “‘S boring playing girls anyway.”

He bounces the ball across the table to Ethan, and stalks off with his shoulders sagging. May’s face softens when she comes over to you, your chest warm at her concern. “You okay?”

“Mm. Thank you.”

She pouts, swaying a little. “Why are guys such jerks?”

“Um, I’m right here,” Ethan laughs, chucking the ball back and forth between his hands. There’s that smile again, easy and sharp and clean. You think of Erin, dragged through mud.

“Thanks,” you mumble, barely glancing at him.

“No problem. He’s an idiot when he’s drunk.”

If you were braver, you’d say he’s an idiot sober, too.

“Looks like we need to even the teams up,” May says brightly.

“Oh, that’s okay,” you answer, the only relief from the situation that this may give you a chance to escape for a brief moment. “I wanna get some water. You guys can keep playing.”

“You sure?” She asks, leaning in so it really is just the two of you, giving you a hit of tuberose and orange blossom, the same perfume she’s worn since your first high school party in ‘83. “I’ll come with you if you want.”

“It’s okay,” you say, squeezing her arm gratefully. “I’ll be right back.”

The air is fresher the second you’re in the hallway, without the clutch of warm bodies forcing you to mutter ‘excuse me’ enough that the words lose all meaning. The damp heat picks up again in the kitchen, smaller groups standing around with cups in their hands, some swaying to the distant music. You glance at the sink, find a couple crowded in front of it, their eyes intent on eachother. Even your slightly fuzzy mind decides against trying to navigate around them in search of water.

“Hey, Ringwald.” It takes a good couple of seconds for you to register that the greeting might be for you. It requires a tap on the shoulder, Erin’s half there smile directed your way. She holds up a cup. “Want some?”

You glance into it, find clear liquid that gets your hopes up. “Water?”

She snorts. “I know I’m pretty badass, but six shots of vodka in one cup is a little much. Even for me.”

You take it gratefully, screaming at your tipsy brain to remember not to drink too much of someone else’s water. A couple gulps and you hand it back to her, surprised at how much you needed it, throat a little scratchy from singing earlier before your joy left with Heather.

“So, uh, how are you?”

You nod, giving her a close lipped smile. “Yeah, fine. How are you?”

Erin tilts her head, her right eye narrowing. “No, I mean, like really how are you?” She waves her cup around, as if gesturing to the entire house. “Seems like you and May are friends again, I guess.”

“We were always friends,” you assure, heart panging. “She was just,” you search for it, unprepared for this conversation. Where you normally would avoid answering altogether, your cottoned up mind combined with the earnest desperation to defend your friend ends in a rambling answer. “I didn’t tell her the right way, you know? She was hurt, finding out from somebody else about, you know, Eddie and I. But we talked it all out and she’s forgiven me.”

“Forgiven…you?”

“For not telling her myself.”

Erin taps a finger on her cup, considering you. “That’s what she was angry about?”

Your mouth opens, thoughts tangling. “Um, I mean, among other things,” you rush, giving her a reassuring smile. “But everything’s fine now.”

“Okay,” she says, that half smile returning. “Glad to hear it, Ringwald.”

“I, um,” you step a little closer, forcing yourself to look right into her eyes. “I did want to say thank you for that actually. I just-” You just worried endlessly about approaching her, how you would even thank her for preventing you from being quizzed about your sex life in front of an entire group. You shrug, and luckily Erin seems to understand.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “You shouldn’t have had to explain yourself in the first place. But those girls are pretty vicious when they smell blood.”

You’re struck with a pity for her you know she’d probably hate you feeling. You try to remember what she was like before her entire friend group turned on her, before she was taken in by that sharp smile. She still had the sarcastic wit, you’re sure. But without the undertone of anger that comes along every other sentence; less bite. Erin has always been confident, but now she carries herself like somebody full of righteous indignation and nowhere to put it.

“You can have the rest of this,” she says, handing you the water and looking away like she’s read your whole thought process and wants out of the conversation quick. “Those six shots actually sound kind of appealing now.”

“Okay, well, see you later?”

She gives you a little thumbs up as she passes. You watch her elbow past the couple at the sink to reach the bottles and cups piled beside it. Already feeling more sober than you had when you walked in, you finish the cool water, resisting the temptation to start playing with the material of your skirt.

“Hey, uh…hey.” You look over at Neil from your Physics class, recognising the sound of somebody trying and failing to remember your name. “Could you talk to Munson for me? Tell him I’m good for the money, it’s just that it’s another week before I get paid.”

You blink. The information takes a second to move from your ears to your brain, longer to process their whole meaning. You feel a flutter in your chest; something like excitement, something like relief. “Eddie’s here?”

“Yeah, and he’s making a really big deal out of twenty dollars, you know?”

You look over his shoulder as if Eddie might be standing out in the hallway, finding only the empty doorway. “Where is he?”

“Uh, he was by the stereo I think? So, you’ll talk to him?”

“Um, sure,” you mumble, pressing past him to walk down the hall back into the living room. There’s May, laughing as Ethan tips his head back to drink, the table laden with a new set of cups. On the other side of the room, Heather, nodding at something and looking serious as ever.

And then you catch him; a head of messy curls, denim on leather, the cut out t-shirt you know Eddie sewed on himself by hand. He’s standing right next to the stereo, sorting through records. His curls shift with a shake of his head and you just know his expression is dismayed, truly disappointed in the collection. To his side, a group of boys is searching their pockets, failing to hide their efforts to pool money together.

Eddie’s presence pulls at you, an invisible but physical tug, and before you know it you’re crossing the room towards him. He jumps a little when you rest your palm on his back, his hand flying to his wallet chain. Then his brown eyes land on you, and you feel the unique joy of watching Eddie realising it’s you. His expression turns in an instant from guarded to happiness. Round eyes look you up and down once in surprise to confirm it’s you, once again in appreciation. He leans right into you, smile a little wolfish. “Well, hey. What brings you to my darkened corner, sweet thing?”

What can you say to that? That in the six, seven hours since you’ve seen him, you’ve felt the lack of his presence? That you’ve spent the last hour in particular wishing you’d never come here, wondering why you didn’t go home with him instead?

“Was surprised to see you.”

“Yeah, well,” he starts, gesturing with his head to the boys behind him. “My services were required, you see.” His eyes track down again, zeroing in at the place on your legs where your dress ends, the fishnet tights wrapped around your thighs. “You look, uh,” he clears his throat, clearly searching for the right word. “Shit. I mean, fuck. You look good.”

Your cheeks warm. You turn to the side a touch, pressing your knees together. “Thank you.”

“I um, really like these.” His hand teases the hem of your dress, thumb brushing across the string of your tights. Eddie’s fingers are a warm sting that has your breath catching, your body aching to be closer to him, to more of his heat.

“Munson?” Sounds from behind him, and the spell is broken. Eddie jumps again, hand parting from your skin like he’d touched a hot stove. His hair flies around him as he turns, face becoming impassive again.

“Gentlemen,” he says, standing in front of you. “Managed to pool your allowances?”

“Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie’s head tilts. “For future reference, save the shit talk till after you have the product in your hand. Unless you wanna add another ten percent for the ounce-”

“No, it’s fine,” another says, elbowing his friend. “It’s all there.”

Eddie sighs, taking the collection of rumpled bills from his hand. You watch him stand in front of the antsy boys, counting each note twice over just to watch them squirm. “Mm. Looks like it’s all here.” He brings his wallet from his back pocket, attached to his jeans by a chain, and tucks the money inside. Then, after glancing around him quickly, Eddie’s right hand disappears into the front of his pants.

“Kept it warm for you, boys,” he cackles, pulling out a plastic baggy filled with green clumps and hurling it towards them.

In the next second, he’s grabbed your hand and is pulling you through the crowd to the sound of, “Munson, you prick!” from behind you. You can hear Eddie’s almost manic giggling over the music, your heart pounding from speeding after him and the fear of the chance at being followed by five boys, all half drunk and furious.

Eddie’s hand remains tight around yours until the cool air out the front door hits your heated skin, finally slowing to catch his breath, still chuckling to himself. You watch him, wide eyed, as he leans back against the front wall, head falling back and then forward to look at you. His eyes flash, his face tells you he’s proud.

“Why did you do that?”

His laughter stops when he spies the serious look on your face, your hands fiddling with your skirt. “Ah, shit. Sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t plan for you to be around but there wasn’t much I could do, sweet thing. It was already down there, y’know?”

“That’s not what I- Why would you aggravate them like that, Eddie?”

Something a little cold comes over his face then. “Satisfaction, pure and simple,” he answers. “The only kind I can get out of guys like that.”

“But, if you didn’t speak to them like that-”

Eddie’s already shaking his head. “If I didn’t speak to them like that- Hell, if I gave them that weed for free, got on my knees and asked for an ounce of kindness, come Monday they’re still gonna throw me, or Jeff, or any of the guys from Hellfire into a locker,” he tells you, voice a plea for you to understand. “Or call me a freak, or lock one of the freshmen, who still barely know their way around the building, in a supply closet for an hour.” Eddie tilts his head at you. “It’s got absolutely nothing to do with me aggravating them or not, okay? It's not about how nice I am, or how I talk to them - it's about this," he stresses grabbing his long hair, then his shirt. "And this. And D&D and the fucking trailer and my piece of shit father. No amount of sweet talk will fix it cause they don't want me to be nice; they want me to change. And I can’t do that, okay? More importantly, I won’t do that.”

Everything he says makes your chest hurt.

It makes sense, that this is how Eddie Munson thinks. Since your first stumbled word, you’ve been hiding yourself away, blending into the crowd to avoid all the pain that comes with being singled out. But him? Eddie has no interest in curling in on himself, shrinking his personality to fit in. Everything he says, every move he makes, is unapologetic. As true to himself as that shirt.

But it hurts to think that something so unnatural to you could be right. For all your good will, all your work and staying under the radar, it hasn't saved you. Your need to keep quiet only led to Caroline’s harshness, the laughter from the cheer girls. Your desperation to avoid judgement only opened all the right doors for Andy to hurt you the way he did, for everyone around you to know exactly how. All your complacency, all your acquiescence, none of it kept your friends nearly as close as you’d wanted them.

You swallow, catch Eddie’s eyes, and whisper in earnest. “I don’t want you to change.”

You could cry at the relief in his face, the fast blinking that vanishes the shine in his eyes. His head tilts. “No?”

You shake your head vehemently, wishing he would hold your hand again so you could play with his fingers. He pushes himself off the wall and leans into your space, hair falling towards you. You look between his eyes and his collar, debating hiding your face there.

“Not even my driving?”

“Okay,” you answer, watching his dimples press into his face. “Maybe I’d like you to change one thing.”

“I knew it!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up. “Sweet girls like you are only ever after one thing. You wanna fix me, huh?”

“No,” you whisper, smiling to the side. “Just, gently improve your interest in speed limits?”

“Yeah? And what about my proclivity for pineapple and olive pizza?”

You chew the inside of your lip, suppressing giggles. “I think, given time, I can learn to live with it.” You feel a buzz of pride at Eddie’s laugh, the crinkle around his eyes he gets when he’s really, truly happy. “I do mean it, Eddie. I like you exactly as you are. More-” You take a breath. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

Eddie’s hand finds yours again, your fingers curling into his, your knuckles at his palm.

“Like me enough to come home with me?”

You want to. Desperately. The relief you felt at seeing him, your whole body telling you that you’d rather spend an evening with Eddie than here, navigating social circles you’ll never really be a part of.

“I have to tell my friends first,” you say, watching Eddie nod.

“Sure thing. I can wait.”

“Okay.” Your gaze travels between his eyes and his collar again, stalling your departure. You want a kiss. Want to kiss him all the time, even for a short goodbye. Eddie, sensing your hesitance to leave, narrows his eyes a little like he's trying to work you out. He catches your eyes dart to his lips, and they curve.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to you. It’s a perfect, innocent little thing. But you like it, like the domesticity you’re learning with Eddie. You want kisses goodbye and hello, his hand in yours in the car. You want elbows meeting sides while cooking together, waking up in the middle of the night just to hear Eddie breathing before you fall away again, catching sight of each other in the mirror while you brush your teeth in the morning. You want your daily life, with Eddie in it, with all the things he adds just by way of existing.

You give him another quick peck, face hot, and run into the house before your mouth asks him to leave with you now and never come back.

You find May in the kitchen, huddled together with a couple of the cheer girls as well as Ethan. She waves brightly when she catches sight of you, gesturing you over. “Hi!” She calls, hair mussed, clearly having continued to drink since you parted. “Where did you go?”

“Um, I was thinking I might go home,” you say, fiddling with your skirt. “M’tired.”

“Oh, are Heather and Patrick leaving too?”

“No, no. I ran into Eddie. He’s gonna give me a ride home.”

You brace yourself, the back of your neck prickling with tension. You watch the expression on May’s face shift from confusion, not to anger or disappointment, but amusement.

“Ohh-kay, you’re tired,” she laughs, shaking her head. You make a noise in embarrassment, checking to see if the rest of the group are listening in and she grins at you, pulling you into a quick, floral smelling, hug. “Have a good night, okay? I’ll see you later.”

You give her a squeeze back, chest warm. “Yeah, later.”

You give a half hearted wave to everyone else, navigating your way to the living room. Heather is where she has been all evening, under Patrick’s arm. “Hey,” you say, avoiding eye contact with the boys around her. “I’m gonna head.”

“Already?” Heather pouts. A quick throb or annoyance rises and falls, your anger that she wouldn't have noticed either way reasoned with the fact that it was your decision not to spend any time with this group.

“Yeah, I’m tired.”

“I thought I was giving you a ride?” Patrick asks, leaning over.

"No, Eddie's gonna take me home."

There’s a moment of quiet, information sinking in before Patrick's face displays a shocked frown. "Eddie? Munson? You're getting in that scrap heap he calls a van?"

You look from him to Heather, spy the clear guilt on her face when you say, "He's my boyfriend. Heather didn't tell you?"

“She most certainly did not- when the fuck-”

“I’m sure she can fill you in,” you say, voice edging towards breaking, thinking about her encouragement, her fingers on the cross around her neck. Heather's mouth opens, her hand coming to that very pendant, and you shake your head. "Bye."

She calls your name behind you, but doesn't come after you when you leave.

Eddie is waiting for you still, balancing a seat on the porch rail and smoking when you emerge. A dimple presses into his face when he flicks the cigarette away and slides down. “All good?”

You grab his hand, bury your face into his shoulder to lean on him a little. Breathe in leather and drugstore shampoo - Eddie, Eddie, Eddie - until your heart stops throbbing painfully.

“All good,” you mumble, turning your head to look at him from his shoulder. “Home?”

You realise how tired you are when you are settled in Eddie’s van, your eyes and limbs heavy. You half want to curl up in the soft seat and drift, but get taken in by watching Eddie as he drives. His fingers following the guitar licks of his music on the steering wheel, his hair shifting when he rocks his head forward. The way he glances at you when he turns, catches you staring and grins to himself every time.

"You know, I didn’t really have you down as someone who’d be into paaarties,” he says, eyes wide with his mocking tone. He glances at you again, at your worn out state, and half closes an eye. “And I gotta say, you don't seem like you were having a good time."

You think about that for a minute, wondering how best to explain your complicated relationship with social events. “I like dancing with my friends,” you start with a shrug. “And getting ready.” You lean your head back. “It’s like the only time the three of us are together anymore.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, glancing over at you. “Why’s that?”

Why is that? You’ve wondered it yourself. It felt like, suddenly, though maybe it happened very slowly without you realising, whatever delicate thread held you together started to strain as you moved in different directions. Or, as they did; leaving you lonely in the place you used to share. Waiting for them to visit, when it suits them.

They changed. You stayed the same.

Only, you must have changed a little. You replay that last moment with Heather tonight in your head, wondering if you’ve ever shown her your hurt, your anger. Six months ago, you doubt you’d even have left at all. It’s more likely that you would have stayed, wishing to be anywhere else, until they wanted to leave.

Eddie looks over at you following your long silence, adopts the soft, encouraging smile he gives you to show you he’ll wait for your answer, regardless of the reasons it’s taking you so long to find it. You get an inkling, then, of why you’ve changed, if only a little.

“We’re all just…different than we were,” you say finally.

“People change, I guess,” Eddie nods. “For better or worse.”

You think you might be better.

Exhaustion takes over when you cross the comforting threshold into Eddie’s home; the familiar smell and warmth of it sending a message across your body that you can relax now. You clean your teeth with the brush Eddie presented you with the first time you stayed over, scrub at your face with warm water until all that’s left are panda eyes you don’t have the fortitude to deal with. When Eddie takes his turn in the bathroom, you search through the little drawer he’d cleaned out for you to find soft cotton pyjamas that have your eyes drifting the second you have them on.

When Eddie returns, you’re standing in the middle of the room fiddling with your hands, still a little worried about the assumption of getting into his bed when he’s not there.

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he says, holding the covers open for you and tucking them over your shoulder when you’re settled on the good pillow, the one he insists you take every time. You watch, heart sore, as Eddie removes every one of his rings, counting the little metallic clanks as he drops them on the table. Then goes his bracelet, his watch and his wallet chain. You stare shamelessly as he pulls his shirt over his head, soft hair following the collar up, up, up, and dropping down again in a curly mass around his pale shoulders as the fabric pulls away. You hear the distinct clink of his belt, curl your knees up at the heat the sound sends through your core. Eddie wiggles his hips a little as he pulls his jeans down, stepping out of them ungracefully, kicking them off his heels. He stands before you in his blue plaid boxers, all pale tattooed skin.

“You’ve been staring at me all evenin’,” he says, approaching you, dropping down in a squat so his face is right by yours.

You can’t argue, but find yourself fiddling with the duvet, pulling it up to your cheek and half hiding in it to mumble into the polyester. “I like looking at you.”

“Yeah? Well, looking’s free. Usually touching would cost you,” he says, reaching out with a finger to pull the cover down from your face and leaning in like he’s sharing a secret. “But, uh, just between you and I, sweet thing, you can touch for free, too.” Your toes curl, glancing quickly at Eddie’s pink mouth, watching his lips tilt. “Need some of my services just now?”

“Yeah,”

He hums, his big hand capturing your cheek to tilt your face to his. Eddie’s kisses are gentle and warm. You taste dried toothpaste on his lips, the lasting smoke in his breath from that final cigarette. Then, when your kisses have turned too sleepy to last, just soft presses to his bottom lip, he climbs into the other side of the bed and reaches out for you, fingers wiggling. You tuck yourself into his side, and fall asleep quick.

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You drift to waking, gently pulled from sleep by sunshine peeking through cheap blinds and the distant sound of a barking dog. You are comfortably cozy under the sheets. Even having shifted to either side of the bed in the night, no longer tangled, you can feel the heat of Eddie at your back.

You half snooze for a long time, eyes drifting open to take in the contents of the room. The amps and the Corroded Coffin wall hanging, a closet slightly more full than the first time you were here, a floor still messy but less littered with piles of half clean half dirty laundry. Eddie’s acoustic guitar, his writing overtop in white, THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS.

You close your eyes again. The next time they open, the room is brighter. Turning ungracefully, you come face to face with Eddie, and huff a soft laugh through your nose. Eddie’s hair in the morning is a beast, pressed to either side of his face from his tossing against the pillow. Some locks frizzed to the point of dullness, some still set in loose curls; both types tossed over the front of his face. Reaching out, you tuck each lock back until you can see him properly, every pretty feature of his face.

You consider trying to wake him, but find yourself simply shuffling closer, tucking yourself into him, nose at his neck. Eddie hums, one arm coming up instinctively to settle over your half asleep body.

You finally jump awake to the sound of the front door falling closed in a swinging slam. Eddie blinks opposite you, fully registering the noise and your presence together. He hums, closes his eyes again, takes a deep breath through his nose and opens his mouth wide to yawn so loud he might as well have screamed.

“Coffee, boy!?” Wayne calls as Eddie stretches and cracks his pale limbs. He glances at you in question.

You chew the inside of your lip. “Should he know I’m here?”

Eddie takes this in for a second, then smiles. “I mean, he’s about to, either way.”

Regret at not having asked Eddie to set an alarm rids all the warm cosiness of the scene. Your face feels hot already at the thought of facing Wayne on a Saturday morning having clearly slept in this bed. “He’ll- he’ll think we-”

Recognition dawns on Eddie’s face, and he shakes his head quickly. “He won’t think anything, sweetheart,” he tells you, leaning in till he’s put himself in your eyeline. Eddie’s expression is earnest until it shifts into an amused smile. “I’ll even tell him you slept on the floor to preserve my innocence. Score you some points with the old man.”

Eddie’s sleepy laughter has some of the tightness in your chest abating. The sight of his eyes crinkling at the sides, dimples digging into his cheeks, is a treat you don’t usually get so early.

“What time is it?” You ask, realising it may not be early at all if Wayne’s back. Eddie grabs his watch from the bedside table, blinks away residual blurriness.

“Nine thirty.”

Later than you’ve slept since school started back up, yet even now, the thought of curling back up in Eddie’s arms and snoozing for a little longer is an attractive prospect you’re seriously considering.

“I heard your caterwaul of a yawn, boy! How many coffee’s am I making!?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. You nod. He calls back. “Three! If you can count that high!”

The sounds of clinking mugs and sizzling oil mix with Eddie’s soft grunts as he gets himself dressed, jumping up and down to pull his jeans over his feet and searching through the closet for a t-shirt adorned with three angels, all smoking.

He takes you in when he’s put his rings on, no doubt almost as messy haired as him, watching him from his bed. Brown eyes bright, Eddie leans in to give you a soft kiss.

“Morning, sweet thing,” he says. His hand cups your cheek, letting you press into his wide palm. “Take your time, mm? I’ll assure Wayne my innocence remains intact.”

Your nose scrunches at his teasing, even as you turn to press a quick kiss to the centre of his hand. Eddie rubs a thumb under your eye, then shuffles out his door. Immediately, the noise of clinking plates is smothered by the exchange of familiar jabs and teases between the uncle and nephew.

The days you’ve spent here have made you realise how special their relationship is. Not something less than father and son, but in fact something more. Wayne looks upon Eddie with the exasperated fondness of a dad, but reserves the true judgement they can be prone to. No passive aggressive comments about Eddie’s track record at school, nor questions about the way he dresses, despite the bookmarked King James bible that sits on the coffee table. He’s ruffled Eddie’s hair kindly every time he’s been here while you were doing homework, hung his latest C- graded test up on the fridge. Eddie told you Wayne bought him that acoustic guitar when he was thirteen, saved up for months to take him to a real music shop in Indianapolis and let him pick one out.

You can see, even, the parts of Wayne that have filtered straight down to Eddie. Their humour overlaps, the way they can banter back and forth with each other, never crossing the line into hurt. Though, where Eddie can’t help but grin at a good joke, Wayne remains deadpan through every jibe.

Wayne, when he gets talking, can spin a yarn the same way Eddie can. Stories about his nights at the factory, his old job driving trucks across the country, his youth, told not in a long ramble, but structured perfectly to have you on the edge of your seat.

You know now that Eddie’s kindness, the way he treats you, was a gift from Wayne. His genuine interest in your life, your plans. His continual, earnest offer of food from his fridge every time he sees you. When your mom made a lasagne for you to take in thanks for all the evenings you’ve spent here, Wayne didn’t send the dish with Eddie to school, but drove to your house with it cleaned to a shine to hand it back and thank her personally. Soon after, Eddie let it slip that the daisies he brought you for your first date were bought at Wayne’s insistence.

You’d wondered, that day at the lake, how a boy treated like Eddie is treated could be so bright and kind.

Wayne was the answer.

So you should be braver, emerging from Eddie’s room in that big hoodie of his he’d been lending you on and off and shorts you’d left here the last time you stayed over, no doubt still sporting panda eyes from last night. But you find yourself making use of the long sleeves, fidgeting with your fingers against the fabric.

Eddie’s in the midst of getting his wrist thwacked with a spatula for attempting to steal a streak of bacon as Wayne transferred them from pan to plate. Gasping, he holds his hand in the air and lets his wrist fall limp. “I- I can’t feel my fingers!”

Wayne silently watches Eddie flop his hand back and forth, only a slight crinkle at his eyes suggesting he finds anything his nephew is doing at all amusing. When he catches sight of you, his gaze barely flickers from your messy hair to Eddie’s hoodie. “Mornin’,” he says, turning his back to a still howling Eddie to shake the pan. “Eggs? Bacon?”

The temptation to refuse, to be polite and pretend you don’t want anything from him prickles at the back of your mind. Only, experience has taught you he’ll only plate you up something anyway. There for you if you change your mind, something both he and Eddie say frequently.

“Please,” you nod.

“You gonna set the table, Eddie?”

“How can I?” Eddie cries, wrapping his other hand around the injured arm and holding it up as if the ailment has moved all the way to his elbow. “With this!?”

Wanting to make yourself useful, you venture into the cutlery drawer yourself, giggling as Eddie shakes his limp hand at you, before pulling up the fold out table at the other side of the kitchen. “You’re on coffee duty then, Ed.”

Eddie gives up the routine at the prospect of picking out mugs, his eyes shining. It’s an activity he seems to enjoy deeply; shuffling over to the expansive collection and perusing them like he doesn’t already know exactly who’s getting what.

Eddie likes to give Wayne a novelty Garfield mug, something about the quiet, serious man drinking from the head of the large orange cat tickling him. For himself, a black mug with THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE printed in white letters around a cartoon duck. For a while, he has been trying out different mugs for you, showing the best of Wayne’s extensive collection. But he’s settled on a white NASA mug Wayne picked up on a trip to Houston. “For my smart girl,” he’d said the first time he handed it to you, expression all fondness and pride.

Eating together is becoming familiar to you now. Wayne has picked up on your tendency to keep quiet the same way Eddie did, sometimes asking you questions but generally letting you decide when you want to speak without much prying.

“You two got plans?” He asks, glancing briefly at you then turning to Eddie when you look unsure.

“Uh, nothing solid,” Eddie says, focused on the construction of an increasingly complex breakfast sandwich. “But I was thinking about heading to Greenfield to pick up an album. I had loan of Accept’s newest record from Jeff before he remembered I had it.” His tongue peeks out at his concentration, topping the egg, bacon, hashbrown and tomato with a final piece of toast. “Didn’t think three months was too long to keep it. I mean, what’s an album between friends?”

You watch in near fascination as he manages to keep it all in tact through a large bite. He chews slowly, and swallows. “I’d welcome a road trip buddy if you’d be so inclined, Princess.”

Your face warms at the name used in front of Wayne, but you nod.

“There’s a good bookshop, too,” he says, clearly holding himself back from taking another significant bite. “S’where I got my copy of Orpheus.” He must see something, excitement probably, move across your face, because next Eddie is flashing a pleased smile. “Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

When you’re all finished, dishes washed by you at your gentle insistence, face scrubbed further with luke warm water from the tap and hair finger combed through, you leave a yawning Wayne to his fold out.

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The shop, located two towns over from Hawkins, smells like the music room at your first school. The memory hits you as soon as you walk through the door; standing in three lines and belting out an off tune Amazing Grace with another thirty kids. Playing with claves and tambourines. Eddie seems in his element here, directing you through display shelves of pop and country records around a corner to the back where his kind of music is kept. “Course, some albums I just use the cassette,” he tells you, rifling through a couple of records. You look around the section yourself, counting up the albums you recognise from Eddie’s desk, his glove compartment. “But when I love an album I kinda have to get it on vinyl, you know?”

You don’t, not really. You have your own pile of albums in your room, all plastic rectangles ready for your cassette player or your walkman. Your dad has a collection of country records, your Mom some Joni Mitchell, the Crosby, Stills and Nash records she played constantly when you were a child. Before Eddie started asking you to pick out albums you thought looked good in his room, you hadn’t touched a vinyl since your aunt asked you to put on the White Christmas over the holidays.

Eddie senses your confusion, and shrugs. “I mean, I wanna see the album art for real,” he tells you, finding one as an example. “Not quite as effective at four by three inches, right?” You recognise it immediately as Holy Diver. Eddie has a shirt with this cover on it; a demon standing over a priest splashing in water. He was wearing it that day in the woods, when you ran right up and kissed him. He takes the record from you when you nod, placing it back carefully.

“And there’s albums a stereo just can’t do justice to. They’re useful when I wanna skip songs. But hearing it from start to finish? At the highest quality? It just needs a record. Ah-” He finds the album he came here for and shows you. A blue background, with a chrome, blocky heart shape filled with valves and pumps. "Metal Heart," Eddie explains. "Latest, and best, album by Accept. They're this German heavy metal band? The lead guitarist, Wolf Hoffman?” He sighs wistfully, looking off into the distance. “Man, what I'd do if I got him in a room alone.”

You make an awful snorting sound when you laugh, have to ignore the delight on Eddie’s face lest you burn up entirely. "So,” you start. “Heavy metal is different from regular metal, or is it just another term for it?”

Eddie's face lights up at the question, putting on a refined accent. "Heavy metal, young lady, is a type of metal that encompasses many genres,” he explains, bringing a hand up to add to the role. “For example, one could say all thrash metal is heavy metal, but only a simple fool, would seek to claim that all heavy metal is thrash metal. Do you follow?” His character falls apart at your giggle. “I said metal too many times, huh? Note taken. You wanna listen?"

At your nod, Eddie walks you back round to the front towards a row of glass booths housing record players and headphones. You watch his hands move carefully, treating the record with the same care he uses to hold your hand. When it's in place, he dons the headphones and places the needle, nodding his head until it reaches the start of the particular song he wants you to hear. His hair fans out a little as he removes them, making to place them over your ears until you flinch and he jerks them back.

“A little loud,”

“Ah, shit, sorry,” he says, turning a knob on the record player. “I forgot. Princess ears.” He replaces the headphones, eyebrows raising in question. The volume more manageable now, you nod happily, listening to pulsing guitars build in intensity, joined by thrashing drums and eventually the telltale screeching voice that immediately transports you into Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of his life.

Eddie’s eyes are all soft excitement, shining at you, watching for your reactions.

If you had to make a list of all the things to like about Eddie, his passion would surely sit near the top. The way he fizzes all over to talk about music, and Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings. The way he’s desperate to share his interests with you. Not out of expectation for you to feel exactly the same about any of it, and certainly not with any assumptions that you should understand it already. Just to share, to let you in, to show himself to you.

You wish you were more like him, that way. That you weren’t more comfortable hiding, keeping bits of yourself under lock and key lest their exposure leave the most delicate parts of you open to attack. You try to imagine Eddie using anything like that against you. You remember him leaning across the table to you on your first date, listening to you ramble about wyverns and etymology while your feet tapped your anxiety out onto the floor. He’d thanked you for sharing. Very metal, he’d said.

Three minutes in, and you realise Eddie’s been playing the whole song in his head, because he brings his hands up to follow the chords playing in your ears with an imaginary guitar, hair shaking as he throws his head back and forth. Then he flashes his smile, soft cheeks displaying his dimples and smile lines.

You can’t help it.

You step forward until your feet are patterned with his. You reach out for his sleeve, playing with the chains keeping the left connected across his wrist. Eddie’s still watching you when you tilt your chin, leaning towards him to press your lips to his. Anxiety prickles along your spine, but you know that nobody can see you. Even better, you know that Eddie is between you and the door, hiding you from the world. With the distinctive chains of his jacket in your fingers, his music sounding through your headphones, his lips on yours; everything around you is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Safe, safe, safe.

He pulls away with a huff of breath against your lips, giving you a series of chaste pecks like he isn’t quite ready to stop kissing you entirely despite protesting lungs. Your face burns, but it’s worth it for the way Eddie is staring at you when you finally open your eyes.

“What was that for?” He mouths, gaze flicking to your lips and back to your eyes.

You bring your foot up, pressing the top of it to the back of your ankle and sliding it up and down your calf. A braver version of you would say what every part of you is screaming. Instead you shrug, still fiddling with his sleeve. Eddie tilts his head, clearly unsatisfied, but doesn't press you.

"I like this," you tell him as it finishes, removing the headphones.

"Well, that settles it," he answers, sliding the record from the player back into its sleeve. "You're coming home with me."

You watch Eddie navigate the shop like it's a second home. He stops off at the cassettes, rifling through for anything new, anything he might not have heard before. He grabs a couple blank tapes too, looks at you to the side with pink cheeks. "In case I wanna make any more mixtapes."

At the desk, Eddie places everything down carefully while you wait at the empty till. After a good thirty seconds, you start playing with the rings on Eddie's left hand while his other raps against the wooden desk. "Uh, hello? Anybody- ah, shit."

"Munson," says the bespeckled boy who emerges from the back room.

Eddie’s fingers twitch, and you cease your fidgeting to look up at him, find his face pulled taught. "Oh, hi. I, uh, didn't think you worked on Saturdays anymore."

"Switched to the weekend shift," he answers, stony faced. "That gonna be a problem for you? Surely you’re not still in highschool?"

Eddie frowns, hand twitching again as he sighs. "Listen, man, I'm not looking to argue-"

"Don't know why else you'd show your face. You know your money's no good to me."

Eddie slumps, all the easy happiness pulled from him. He hasn’t looked at you once, and your heart aches.

"I'm buying these," you declare, searching through your bag for your purse. Tissues, no, lipgloss, no, mixtape, no.

They both turn to you. The boy behind the desk takes you in finally, his nose wrinkling. "Oh yeah? You a metal fan?"

"Mm hmm,” you say, voice higher than you’d like.

"Okay, name three Metallica albums."

You glance at Eddie, find him rolling his eyes until you ask. “But Metallica only has two albums, right?"

Eddie’s immediate smile is warmth inducing, causes you to shuffle with shy pride. You thrust out the money in your hand, start gathering up the items again to place in your shopping bag while Eddie grins in the face of the scowling man.

"Whatever,” he says finally. “I don't wanna see you around here again, Munson."

Eddie gives him a little salute, then grabs the bag from you and takes your hand to leave.

"Jesus," he breathes as soon as the bell announcing the doors closure sounds. "You can't talk like that, sweet thing. We're in public. You’ve-" He scratches at the back of his neck. “You’ve really been listening to me talk about it all the time, huh?”

You frown. “Of course, Eddie. I like it,” you answer, tugging his hand to start the walk back to the van. “Who was that?"

Eddie’s smile drops. "Uh, Peter? We actually, kinda used to be friends. I introduced him to all his favourite bands back in the day, you know? Then suddenly he’s the gatekeeper of metal- I mean it’s a fucking joke.” He opens the side door, placing your bag behind the front seat. “S'how I met Gareth, really. Poor kid couldn't name two Dio albums so he gets insulted buying the latest one, what the hell is that? We all have to start somewhere. I mean, when I met that guy he was a U2 fan. Anyway-” he continues, closing the door. “I told him he was being a dick and he got all pissy about it."

You chew your lip. "He acts that way, because you called him a dick?"

Eddie blanches, his head falling back with a quick groan. "Okay, I wanna add a disclaimer that I was sixteen and dumb," he starts. "And he really was being a dick, acting like- like all those guys metalheads are supposed to hate in the first place, and-"

"And?"

"And I hit him. Real gentle. With my fist."

"Eddie,"

"Sweet thing, even you woulda decked him if you'd been there. I swear. And, I just can't fucking stand that shit, you know?"

You do know. Eddie is all gentle touch and soft smiles around you, but something changes in him when he’s witness to injustice. He'd had to miss a date just last week because he had detention, brought about by standing over a sophomore who'd dared to mess with one of the freshmen in Eddie's club. "You make one vague threat about human sacrifice and suddenly everyone's got an opinion on what constitutes bullying," he'd complained later. "If teachers aren’t gonna teach that kid not to be a cunt, why shouldn't I scare it out of him?"

You've heard him call the whole group his little sheep, laughing like he doesn't kind of mean it. Like he doesn't think of them as weird kids he'd gathered together in something of a herd, a pack. Like he doesn't think of himself as their shepherd, as their protector.

"Point is," he says now. "He's the one in the wrong, I swear. Shit. I can't believe he works weekends now."

"Well, I can go in for you."

"Yeah? You can set him straight, my baby metalhead. Fuck- didn't even say thank you. Was too busy trying to pretend I wasn't half fucking hard-" You make a soft noise and Eddie blinks, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. How much was it again?"

You press a toe to the top of your other shoe shyly. "Can't I buy you them?"

"Huh?"

"Like a gift?"

Eddie’s face twists. You thought he was just being a gentleman, when he’d paid sneakily on your first date. You know now that’s only part of it. He likes driving you places but won’t accept gas money, likes making you dinner at his home but won’t let you pay for groceries when you tag along on errands. The only thing he doesn’t get twitchy about is your baking, but that’s because you’re there eating them too. You think this might further influence from Wayne; a certain pride, a refusal to accept anything monetary from you.

"But, sweet thing-"

"Please, Eddie?"

He watches you, conflicting emotions passing along his expression. "Okay. But you’re picking out a book. A real fancy one. I wanna see leather binding yeah? And one of those little ribbons attached, okay?"

Your toes curl, nodding happily. "Okay."

You feel more at home as you walk through a glass door to the smell of old paper and ink.

Joan Baez croons from the record player in the corner. The woman at the register nods as you enter but offers no other greeting. Eddie follows after you when you make a beeline to the poetry section; full of battered, well loved books with cracked spines and fading covers.

You send Eddie a shy look, spine prickling from being watched in what feels like a solitary activity. You rub your thumb at a dusty shelf, wondering how to tell him, when he leans in a little. "Hey, you’ve been taking all my music recommendations. Anything for me to read?”

“Oh,” you say, mind lighting up before dimming at the thought of being too pushy, or recommending something he might hate. “I don’t know.”

“C’mon,” he says, leaning in more until he's all you can see, tilting his head until you’re looking into his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

You chew the inside of your lip. “Mm. Maybe- Have you ever read The Metamorphosis?”

Eddie leans back, shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Can’t say I have.”

“I think,” you consider it again. “I think you’d like it. It’s about, well- A man turns into…an insect.” You simmer over the fact you want to share, let yourself believe that Eddie will be as willing as always to hear it. “It was written in German, and the word for what he turns into literally translates to, like, an animal you can’t sacrifice. Like, vermin?” Eddie’s watching you round off this information in a rush, smiling a little. “Kafka, the writer, didn’t want the actual animal to be specific. But sometimes it’s mistranslated and people say he turns into a beetle, or…or a cockroach,” you trail off, cringing at the sound of yourself. “I’m not selling it very well.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he answers. “Sounds suitably weird. Kafka, you said? I’ll get searching.”

Eddie disappears round the corner, leaving you to comfortable contemplation of the poetry selection. Rilke's entire works, some Wilde, some Shelley. You search for something new and land on a name you've never heard. Drawing it from the shelf, you peer at the cover, a silhouette of a bridge bathed in orange, with the Selected Poems by Marina Tsvetaeva printed above.

You read a couple of the shorter poems, struck by her voice, her imagery. Turning to a random page, see the original Russian on one side, the English translation on the other. The title, asking the question, Where Does Such Tenderness Come From? Your heart pangs in recognition of her feelings as you read, the best part of poetry always finding yourself reflected back at you.

You and your eyelashes - she writes. Longer than anyone’s, as if she knows about the eyes you wish you had the confidence to stare into without respite.

“Found anything?”

You jump, closing the book quickly as if you’d been reading something illicit. Eddie gives you a quick up and down look, keeping his distance until your shoulders drop their tension. “Yes,” you say, turning the book so he can see the cover. “I’d never even heard of her but I like her already.”

“Enough to kick poor Rainer off the top spot?”

You feel that strange warmth that comes with being known, the little reminder of things that Eddie has learned and remembered about you. “Not quite, but I’ll still give her a chance.” You glance down at the book in Eddie’s hands, glad to see he’s grabbed your recommendation. “You like it?”

“Seems weird as fuck,” he confirms matter of factly. “So it’s almost like I’m contractually obliged to read it, you know?”

He pulls the new book gently from your hands, retrieving his chained wallet from his back pocket. "My turn," he says with an unusual seriousness. “You want any others?”

You shake your head, lean up to give him a soft kiss on the cheek, surrounded and sheltered as you are by shelves and books. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Nah,” he says, face a soft pink.

Later, when Eddie has followed you perusing shop windows, and you are full up on drive through fries, eaten in the front of Eddie’s van as you listened to his story of negotiating $20 of payment between his entire band for their nights playing at the Hideout, Eddie drives you back, glancing over at you every so often like he wants to say something, but turning his head back to the road every time instead.

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You feel relaxed, content, sitting comfy on the couch outside of Eddie’s trailer. He popped his head in earlier and found Wayne still sleeping, so you settled here to read in companionable silence. You, discovering more of Marina’s voice, drifting back again and again to the one poem that makes your chest full.

Eddie lies with his head resting on your lap, flicking through the short novella. You play with his hair throughout, curling locks around your fingers and stroking his fringe back from his forehead. Occasionally, you glance down at him, taking in his furrowed brow and eyes shining wet at a couple moments.

“Well, that was fucked up!” Eddie cries, snapping the book shut and somehow managing to whisper a yell. “He just dies? And they don’t care?”

You close your book to focus on him, resting it next to you. You let your fingers tangle into his hair, scratching softly. Eddie, even in his indignation, tilts his head towards the satisfying feeling like a cat. “Mm. That’s the point. He was living his life for his family, but they didn’t really care about him.”

“Yeah, but there’s not caring about someone and there’s hurtling fruit at them,” he reasons. “That Kafka guy had issues, I can’t be the only one who’s noticed.”

You crack a shy smile. “I think he’s brilliant.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie’s dimples tease you. “You’re a freak.”

Your stomach flips at the affection in his voice, fingers stilling in his hair for a second before resuming their gentle caress.

It hits you then, watching Eddie's pretty face, that you’re going to be alone with him again through the night, without interruption, and your throat lumps. As if he realises at the same time, Eddie sits up, hair still at angles from your exploring hands. His mouth opens, then closes again, his eyes flicking from your face to your hands where you’ve started fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

Forcing yourself to take on his example, you ask, “what are you thinking, Eddie?”

“Big question,” he says. “But uh, I guess, I never thought…I never thought sex was that important, you know? Hell, I lost my virginity in the bathrooms at the Emerson Theatre.” His eyes scrunch closed as soon as he says it, like he regrets letting that particular detail slip right now. When one opens, and finds you smiling at him encouragingly, he sighs with his whole body. “And, I hope you know that it wouldn’t matter to me if you had been with somebody else,” he continues, eyes wide. “Like, at all. But at the same time, I’m happy I’m first, you know? Cause I know I can look after you. I can give you what you deserve. Which, again, technically should be a big fancy bed and linen sheets, but some people have absolutely no patience, so-”

“Eddie,” you groan. But it has no bite. You’re already smiling at him, grabbing at his palm to play with his fingers, heart full.

He clears his throat. “So yeah, that’s what I’m thinking about. Also seeing you naked, obviously. But that takes up a good 30% of my brain pretty much all the time so it’s not entirely relevant here.”

“You’re so annoying,” you laugh, watching him clutch his chest in mock hurt.

“I just bared my soul to you!” He cries, watching your giggles incredulously. “Do’st thou mock me? Have you no heart, woman?”

You bury the rest of your laughter in his neck, feeling a kind of dizzy happiness that makes it hard to stop. Eddie’s chest shaking under your cheek tells you that he’s as affected, a hand coming up to stroke at your hair as the mirth fades. Turning to look at where your hands have started up playing with his fingers again, you think about what you want to say.

“Eddie,” you whisper, pulling from his neck, looking between his eyes and his forehead as you search for the bravery he has in spades, the ease to tell him that it always had to be him.

Only, the front door of the trailer opens, revealing a sleepy looking, shirtless, Wayne.

“Oh, Jesus, have some decorum, man!” Eddie yells, covering your eyes with his hand.

“Evenin’, Eddie,” he says, followed by your own name. You wave, blinking to Eddie’s palm. “Get everything you wanted?”

“Yup, sweet girl bought me my very own Metal Heart,” he grins, tapping the album where it sits at his side on the couch as you wrestle his arm away. “Sleep well?”

“As good as I can.” He answers earnestly. “Just makin’ coffee then I’ll hit the road. You want anything?”

"I want you to put some clothes on!"

“No, thank you,” you answer over him, shaking your head and leaning into Eddie’s arm. When Wayne's gone, you glance up, find those soft eyes, those long dark eyelashes. Longer than anyone's.

"What are you thinking?"

You answer honestly. "That you're gonna look after me."

"I will," he nods, sounding almost stern. "As long as you want me to."

You wish it was easy to say, but all you can do is think it.

Always, always, always.

Wayne leaves with a gruff goodbye, a reminder to Eddie that there's left over pasta in the refrigerator. You remember the first time you were here at the same time as Wayne, the almost desperate rush to get into Eddie's room the second he was gone.

Now, you and Eddie stay, settled into one another for a long while after, until the sun has moved from high overhead to just behind the trees in front, turning the scene to a silhouette backlit with orange light. Eddie disappears, comes back with bowls of that pasta. You talk about school, and Eddie's band. He explains more about thrash metal, you tell him your new favourite German word you’d learned only yesterday. When the orange fades to blue-black, Eddie looks over at you.

"Ready?"

You wonder what it means, that despite the increasing thrum of your heart in your chest, you don't even have to think about it. "Yes."

He holds your hand all the way to his room, guiding you through like you don't know how to find his bed at the end. When the door is closed, sheltering you from the world outside, you wrap your arms tight around him, give yourself the comfort of hiding in his collar, feeling the slow rise and fall from his breath.

Eddie hums, his hand coming to that space at the back of your neck that eases everything in your body that you’re used to holding tight. “How you feeling, honey?”

“Good,” you mumble. Then, wondering if he can feel the heavy beat of your heart. “Nervous.”

“Okay,” he says, fingers stroking and squeezing at your tender skin. “What are you nervous about? Anything we can fix?”

You let that thought sit. You are still learning how much Eddie means it when he says things like that. Still practising the belief that Eddie wants you to share your worries, carry some of the burden for you. The responsibility of trying to shed the weight, the disappointment of knowing some of it just has to be carried.

You’re resigned to telling him, but finding the exact reason for the nerves twisting your stomach takes its own time. With anyone else, you’d be worried about pain, about what happens if you have to stop. These concerns float away on their own at the feeling of Eddie’s hand stroking at you, his lips pressing kisses at your temple. Then you land on it, and press your face deeper against the softness of his shirt.

“I don’t know, I guess- What should I do?” You ask, voice small. “So it’s good for you, too.”

You feel his sigh from the rise in his chest, the shake of his head from the brush of his hair against your cheek.

“Will you look at me?” He asks, waiting for you to tilt your head to find him. “You want the truth?” You nod, chin still tight to his shirt. Eddie’s eyes narrow a touch, leaning down conspiratorially. “It will feel good for me,” he starts, his free hand rubbing at your waist. “If we can get your pussy all soft, first.” A surprised throb between your legs has you clenching down on nothing, close to whimpering at the gentle roughness of Eddie’s voice. “All soft, and wet enough that I can just slide in, fill you up easy. Making you cum on my cock, sweet thing. That’s what’ll feel good, for me.” Eddie gives you a wolfish grin as he starts walking you backwards towards his bed, raising his eyebrows in question. “Think we can do that?”

It’s easy, then. “Yes, Eddie.”

“Mm, my good girl,” he says, holding you with the backs of your knees pressed to the side of his mattress, his nose at your temple. “Can I kiss you?”

Even easier. “Yes, Eddie.”

His lips press soft across your cheek and down to your mouth, warm and waiting for him. He's gentle with you, none of the fierceness you've felt in Eddie's kisses more recently. Like he's restraining himself, learning how you like to be touched in the lead up to something new. Your hands find his shoulders, soft cotton of his shirt, and rub at the fabric. His tongue flicks subtly against your bottom lip, but you're already desperate to taste him for real, letting him press deeper without any more prompting.

You feel it at the sound of his laugh, the sudden curve of his lips, the huff of air from his nose against your cheek. The addictive high of showing Eddie how shameless he makes you, the knowledge that he sees you as you are. Not a wallflower here, or a naïve girl. Not an ingénue, to be taken advantage of, or protected from corruption.

With Eddie, you can be as you are. Inexperienced and desperate in equal measure, as nervous as you are sure.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes, pulling away only to blink down at you for a couple seconds before he captures your mouth again, tongue pressing to yours, hot and wet. You whine slowly, rising in volume, your fingers clasping at him. "S'alright," he soothes, giving you another press to your pout. His hand rubs at the back of your neck, encouraging you to lean your head into his support, give him space to leave plush kisses down the side of your throat.

"Eddie," you whisper, softer than you'd expected. Not a moan, or even a plea for more. Just to say it, to feel the shape of his name in your mouth again.

"So sweet," Eddie says, voice a wonderful vibration against your sensitive neck. "Sweetest girl I've ever seen- fuck. Can I?" His hands tug at the hem of your sweater and you nod desperately, helping him pull it off over your head. His lips return to your skin the second the material is on the floor, a wet press down to the softness of your chest. You feel his smile, his excited breath. He sucks, pulls at your flesh until it aches and you squirm. “Mm,” he sighs. “Can’t help it. Wanna mark you up-”

Gentle hands peel your bra from your chest, the tenderness vanishing with his tongue finding the pert bud of your nipple, treating the sensitive peak to wet warmth and friction that has your toes curling. The quick scrape of teeth makes you bat at Eddie's shoulder even as your body tilts to follow his mouth when it retreats.

He gives the other similar treatment, groaning when your fingers drift upwards to tug at his hair. Another little squeak at the graze of his teeth and he’s pulling away to look at you. Your heart jumps at the sight of him, hair mussed from burying himself into your skin, face a light pink, lips wet and kissed dark. The way his eyes flick about you, you’re sure you must be in a similar state.

Eddie’s throat bobs. “Wanna sit up on the bed, there?”

You nod, letting him help you up to the mattress and stand between your swinging legs.

“Need to go over something else, before we really get started,” he tells you, walking you back to sit on the bed, legs swinging off the side. Eddie drops to his knees to take your ankle in hand and pull at your laces. He sets your sneakers to the side, pings your socks over after them. He presses tickling kisses up your calves, eyes all bright when you laugh and kick at him slightly.

Once he’s back at your height, his hands move to your waistband, thumbing at the button of your shorts. “You know that any time you wanna stop, you just say, okay? I mean it, sweet thing.” He pops the button, pulls at the zip. When his hands smooth under the denim to your hips, helping pull them down, he continues. “Doesn’t matter when. Even if I’m making this face-” He scrunches his nose up and lets his tongue hang out in a gross approximation of his expression when he cums and you can’t help but cover your eyes at the image. “What, you don’t like it?”

“That’s not what you look like!”

“That’s right, you’re the expert now, huh? This better?” He asks, stretching his lips flat and crossing his eyes.

“Stoh-op!” You cry, somewhere between giggly and mortified. Eddie’s face settles back into its regular pretty softness, all shining amused eyes and laugh lines.

“That’s exactly what you say to me if you want me to, mm? Or slow down or anything else you want, okay?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear. “Will you,” you swallow, playing with the neckline of his shirt. “Can you keep talking to me? While…”

“You say that like I'm gonna be able to stop talking. Hips up, sweetheart,” he says, helping you lie back so he can pull at your shorts. “Nah,” he breathes, hands disappearing to drag his shirt over his head. “You’ll be sick of my voice by tomorrow.”

Eddie helps you shuffle up the bed, your head falling easy to the good pillow.

“Never,” you tell him, arms opening to pull him in. He finds your mouth again, kisses a little more desperate, already a touch breathless. Your fingers brush at the back of his hair, soft curls between his shoulder blades.

Eddie’s hand dances over the soft skin of your stomach, pulling giggles from you when he hits ticklish spots. His fingers edge at the frilled waistband of your panties, waiting for your hips to tilt towards him to dip inside.

“Oh, honey,” he says with a gentle pout, fingers meeting the hot wet warmth between your legs. “Should’ve told me you were feelin’ desperate.”

Your thighs twitch at the first gentle circle around your clit. Eddie’s thick fingers, the roughness at their ends that catches the sensitive bud so perfectly with each little rub. Already your mind feels light with pleasure, body sinking into the bliss of being touched by Eddie. You’re caught between watching his hand where it disappears, the impression of his knuckles moving under blue cotton, and pulling up the courage to stare back at Eddie as he scans every twitch of your face. He grins at you when you manage to turn to him, licking his lips quickly. The little peek of his tongue, the memory of all the ways it makes you weak for him, has your legs kicking and twitching.

“Feels good, yeah?” He asks, eyes flickering to your lips as they open to let out a moan. “Want me to open this pussy up, sweet thing? Get you ready for me?”

You like that, enough that you nod desperately without thinking twice. “Yeah, want- please, Eddie?”

“Jesus,” he huffs a laugh, his fingers easing downwards only to drag slick from your pussy back up to your twitchy clit. “So fucking good, baby. Say please again?”

Your hips tilt up, chasing his hand though he makes no move to deprive you of it. Your whole body feels hot; from his words, his voice, as much as his touch. When you chance a look in Eddie’s eyes, all the warm brown has been swallowed up, leaving his gaze dark and intent on you. You curl your fingers into his shoulder, stare at the pick hanging from his necklace, swaying with the subtle movement of his torso following the pace of his arm. “Please, please, Eddie.”

You make a high noise of protest when his fingers pull away from your bud, shivers running up your spine at Eddie’s patronising coo, the jutting of his plush bottom lip. “Like I said, no patience. Isn’t that right, sweet thing?” He sighs, pushes at your thighs to catch a glimpse of the dark, sodden material between your legs. “Just gotta get these off you, give me space to work, hm?”

Eddie disappears from your side, moving down the bed to sit between your legs. His fingers hook quick into your waistband to pull your panties down your thighs.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, rubbing the wet cotton between his fingers. “Maybe you can be patient. You been wet all day, pretty?” You watch him lean over, hooking your panties over the headboard.

“Eddie,”

He only flashes you a grin, hand strokes at your thigh, fingers digging into the softness to push your leg back. You feel the sticky split of your cunt as it opens up for him, the wave of cool air against your heat.

“Fuck, look at her,” Eddie breathes, dropping down to his front. His wide eyes blink in near fascination, like it’s anything new to him, watching your cunt flex and shine. “You want two?”

You clench down at the thought. “Yeah.”

Eddie hums, nips at the skin of your leg as he drags his fingers through your slick. The first press inside is a good stretch, lacking the edge of pain that comes with three. They sink inside easily with a wet noise that would have you squirming away if you weren’t so fuzzy in the head, so desperate for the pleasure Eddie’s touch promises. The pads of his fingers find the spot at the end of you that he has mapped out, pussy fluttering around his fingers in protest every time they leave to press back in.

“Feels good?” Eddie asks, rubbing his face against your leg. You hum. “You want another?”

“Yeah,” you nod, craving more, wanting everything. “Yes, Eddie.”

“Mm. Open those legs just a little more, baby- yeah, good girl.”

Eddie gives you one final press of his lips to your thigh as he withdraws his fingers, stroking at you again to gather your slick across all three. You feel the blunt ends of his digits at your entrance, the first push and-

“Oh,” you whine, the familiar ache nothing compared to the euphoria of Eddie’s tongue coming to lap at your sensitive clit. Your hands fly down to his hair, clenching around soft curls as if there’s any possibility he might pull away. He groans, sending a pleasant thrum across your nerves. “Eddie, please.”

Your hips twitch when his fingers meet resistance half way deep, but Eddie stops his approach before you have time to register any discomfort. Clenching tight around his half buried fingers, Eddie lathes his tongue, wide and wet, from where his digits disappear inside to the top of your pussy. Your legs kick again, clit throbbing under his attention. He waits patiently for your body to relax into the pleasure, gently pulling his fingers back before pressing even deeper into your supplicating cunt.

“S’good, Eddie,” you whine, thighs pressing at the sides of his head without your wherewithal. All you know is you can feel him everywhere you need him most. His curls in your hands, tickling the sensitive insides of your legs. His tongue on your clit, gentle sucks that feel like kisses. His fingers filling you, stretching you and rubbing just right at the top wall of your cunt to send tingles along your spine. Ecstasy builds everywhere you can feel him, from a aching twitch between your legs to a wave that passes over your entire body.

Eddie’s name escapes you on repeat without shame. You hear him curse, feel the breath of it against your clit, as you squeeze tight around his fingers, pulsing with each peak of the high.

You finally slump into the mattress again, boneless and tingly. You ignore the wet sound produced by Eddie’s hand leaving your pussy, focusing on how he grins at you as he crawls up your body to settle over you, eyes crinkled at the sides with his satisfaction.

“Jesus, you’re so hot,” he laughs, leaning down to plant a breathless kiss to your lips. “Thought your thighs weren’t ever gonna let me up. Started planning a life down there, you know?”

You giggle, but can’t think of anything clever to say back, caught up in the perfect view of Eddie above you. Pink and lightly freckled, lips dark, the entire bottom half of his face shining from looking after you until he drags your slick to his tongue with his thumb. His hair falls forward like a curtain around your faces, tickling your cheeks until you reach up to tuck it back. He leans absent mindedly towards your hand then, enjoying the warmth of your palm.

As you caress Eddie’s face, he gives you a gentle, wide eyed look. “You still wanna?” He asks, a little rushed. “Cause we can stop right here.”

“I want to,” you answer, just above a whisper, but sounding as sure as you ever have done. “If you do.”

“Yeah,” he nods, like he hasn’t quite registered the full meaning. Then, as if he’s taken it in, “yeah. Okay. Okay.”

Eddie climbs off the bed, leaning over his bedside table to search through the drawer, hands emerging with a box labelled TROJAN and a bottle of clear liquid. You watch him fumble a little with the box until it opens, and pull out a square wrapper that has your face feeling hot, as if the presence of condoms is any more illicit that how Eddie has been touching you already.

“Look away!” Eddie jokes when he finds your eyes on him as he pulls at his belt. “Gotta keep my modesty in tact.”

You jokingly cover your eyes, hearing his laughter along with the clink of his belt, his zip pulling open. The mattress dips with Eddie’s return, and you peek through your fingers at him before settling your hands at your sides. Your mind fizzes at the sight of Eddie naked, settled on his knees between your thighs. Your eyes trace all the ink that decorates his torso, the softness of his stomach. The patches of dark hair on his chest, between his legs. His cock is a dark pink, swollen enough that the tip kisses his stomach. Eddie drags a hand over it with a soft groan like he’s been tortured by the wait. If he registers your staring, he doesn’t point it out, focusing on tearing open the foil wrapper and pulling a clear condom down over his length with a sigh.

Your fingers pull at wrinkles in the sheets as Eddie squirts some clear gel from the bottle into his palm, dragging his hand over his cock again to spread it. “What- what’s that?”

“Oh, uh, lube?” Eddie says, throwing the bottle down on the mattress with a bounce. “Makes it easier to, like, move I guess.”

“But-” You’d press your knees together if Eddie weren’t settled between them. “I’m wet.”

Eddie’s eyes flash, lips quirking. “You are, huh?”

“Eddie,”

“Mm. I know, sweet thing. But a little extra never hurt, mm?”

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Okay,” he answers. “I think it’ll be easiest like this, probably?” He drags the spare pillow from his side, tapping your hips gently to place it under you, tilting your body up to him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Eddie. S’good.”

“Okay,” he breathes, shuffling forward. With one hand, he strokes gently at your thigh. The other finds your pussy, his thumb playing with clit until you’re feeling pleasured and loose, settled back onto the bed with fluttering eyes. “Still want this, Princess?”

You stare at him, heart sore as you take in his open expression. You can see the evidence of how desperate he must be, how much he wants this. But he looks at you, and you know he meant it when he said you could stop at any time, that he isn’t expecting anything from you, even now.

This body of yours is used to freezing up, follows a routine of tensing and shaking at questions less serious than this. You breathe, swallow, force yourself to look him in the eye. “I want you, Eddie.”

He watches you, searching for your certainty. You smile, a nervous thing, but real, and he nods. “Okay,” he says. “I’m gonna go slow. If it hurts, you say, yeah? Or kick me in the balls - whatever’s easiest.”

You giggle, shaking your head at him, your body feeling loose and relaxed by the time you feel the tip of him catch at your entrance. You make a soft noise at the back of your throat, wanting to watch him but also wanting desperately to keep yourself relaxed and open. You close your eyes, feel the softness of Eddie’s sheets under your fingers.

“Sweet girl,” Eddie murmurs, still circling your clit as the tip of him sinks inside. You feel the aching stretch of him, the pleasant warmth of Eddie’s cock under rubber. He’s saying something, talking to you like he promised, but you’re focused on your breath, on fighting the urge to bear down on him.

He must be a couple inches deep when he stops and pulls back only to press forward again and you think, for a second, you will be able to lay back and take all the pleasure Eddie always gives you, but-

His thumb circles just perfect at your clit and your pussy flutters, the new tightness resisting the slow press of his cock. It’s a sudden, shocking hurt that has your hips flinching to another stab of pain. Before you can help it your body is tensing all over, a soft pained sound escaping your throat.

“Fuck,” Eddie says, voice rough, and that the squeeze of your pussy must feel good doesn’t even register. You can only think that he must be as frustrated with your body as you are. Not in control, but a witness to it falling back into routine, pulling taught even as Eddie starts hushing softly. The more you tense, the tighter you feel, the pleasant ache of him pushing inside quickly turning to a stinging stretch that has you clenching fists in the sheets, tears springing to your eyes.

Eddie pulls out from you, and your chest throbs.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, wanting to close your legs and hide away from him.

Eddie’s warmth doesn’t vanish as you fear. In fact it grows as he leans over you, an arm coming to circle your waist. You feel his free hand at your hair, stroking it back from your face. “Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, his breath a gentle caress against your cheek. “You’re in that head, mm? C’mon out.”

The tears that had been bubbling under your eyelids spring free when you open them, tracking down your cheeks as Eddie shakes his head. He wipes each of them away with his thumb until they stop coming. “Sweet thing,” he breathes. “It hurt, and you needed to stop. It’s okay.”

His thumb strokes over your cheek again and you lean into it, resting your palm at the back of his hand as you sigh. Your fingers weave with his, everything better now that you can touch him, now that you can’t run away into your head away from his voice, so close to you.

“Wanna get dressed? We can watch something, mm?”

You shake your head immediately, feeling determined. “Can we try again?”

“We don’t have to-”

“I want to, Eddie.” You assure, hoping he believes you. You rub your cheek into his palm again. “But, can we stay like this?”

There’s a pause as Eddie blinks at you, then his mouth turns up. “Wanna change tactics, huh, Princess?” You nod, watching as he pulls away briefly to help pull the pillow out from under your hips, his hands pressing at your thighs so he can settle properly between them. You whine softly at the feeling of him, still hard and pulsing, between your legs.

Eddie comes back to you with a kiss, lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, get your fingers pressed to his warm skin, playing with the ends of his hair.

“Forgot who I was dealing with, didn’t I?” He says, rolling his hips so the tip of his cock drags over your twitchy clit. Your toes curl, the ball of your foot stroking a little at the back of Eddie’s calf as your legs curl round him. “My girl needs to touch me all over, huh?”

Eddie grins down at you, wiggles his hips just to hear you gasp at the friction of your clit, feel the way your digits dig at him, your right hand rubbing at a lock of his hair. Tension pours from your body at the weight of him all over you, the chance to watch Eddie’s joy at touching you, the pleasure he feels in tandem with yours at every roll of his hips..

He kisses you again, then both your cheeks and your nose and chin, peppers them in quick succession across your neck to get you giggly and soft. When he emerges, you watch each other. Eddie’s gaze flicks about your face while you count down the checklist of your favourite features; dimples and quirked lips, wrinkles at the sides of his eyes and laugh lines.

“Again?” He asks, one hand moving from your thigh to grasp his cock between you. You nod, press your digits into Eddie’s shoulder as his tip opens you up.

“Good fucking girl,” he breathes through the first slow thrust, voice clear as day now he’s so close. “You’re so good, baby.”

Pleasant shivers run through you at the praise. When the stretch makes your body pull taught, your fingers press at Eddie’s skin, letting him feel your need to slow. When the sound of his shaking breath, the sight of his eyes fluttering at the tightness of your cunt around him, has you excited and pliant again, your fingers playing at the ends of his hair tell him that he can start moving once more. Eddie pulls back each time before pressing deeper, humming you through each new tender stretch until you feel the wiry hair above his cock tease your clit. Your hips tilt, chasing the delicious rub, and you feel Eddie’s cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, face dropping into your neck to groan. “How’s it feel?”

Your cunt flutters at the strain in his voice. This time, rather than sending warnings across your body at an unpleasant sting, your pussy bearing down aggravates a dull throb. Like pushing on a sore tooth, it’s painful and addictive all at once, clenching down again for the satisfying feeling of Eddie’s cock twitching inside you, the sound of him groaning against your skin.

“Good, Eddie,” you say honestly, fingers stroking through his hair. “Will you- can you move?”

“Yeah- fuck,” he nods into your neck, laughing softly. “Just gimme onnnnne second. Jesus. ‘How do I make it good for you?’ She asks, with heaven between her legs.”

Your body shakes as both of you giggle together, cut off by another whimpering moan from Eddie. “Aw, shit, don’t laugh or I’m really gonna embarrass myself.”

He tilts his head to the side, looking at you with his chin at your collar. His hips pull back, relieving your pussy of the ache until he slides forward again, letting you feel full, the weight and warmth of him inside you. It’s different than his fingers, which map out the best spots and play with them. Eddie’s cock, thick and heavy, drags along all of them at once.

His face is so close by yours, watching desperately for every sign of pleasure, any hint of discomfort. You open your mouth to reassure him, but all that escapes is a soft, pleased sound that makes his hips stutter.

“Feels good?” Eddie gasps, nodding like he wants to encourage you to agree.

“Yeah, s’good,”

“Fuck,” he says. “You’re gonna want this all the time now, yeah? Need your pretty cunt full of me?”

Pleasant tingles of shame dart up your spine, and one of Eddie’s hands slips between your bodies to rub at your clit again.

“Yeah? Say it, sweet thing.” He groans, hips stuttering at a clench of your cunt around him.

“Like being full of you, Eddie,” you whine, fingers tightening in his hair. “Want it all the time.”

“Jesus- Christ, you’re so good,” he breathes, his fingers bullying your sodden clit. The ache of his cock falls away in comparison to the onslaught of stimulation there, leaving only the satisfying resistance to your cunt clenching down, the sweet fullness, the friction against your sensitive walls. “You’re so good, letting me hear you. Your pretty voice- fuck. Just for me. Think you can cum?”

“Uh huh,”

“Yeah? Like this? Just like this?”

You nod desperately, hips twitching towards him. Chasing the rub of his fingers, the feeling of being stretched full when he presses deep, the throb of his cock inside.

“You cumming, sweet thing?” He asks, as if he can’t see the flutter of your eyes, feel your body clasp around him. “Yeah? Holy-”

Your high is a gentle thing, compared to what you felt with Eddie’s fingers and tongue. A quick rise and fall focused at the top of your cunt that shifts quickly into the numbness of overstimulation. The lasting ache is too present for anything more, but it feels like a promise, a hint of how good it can be with Eddie, if you do this with him again.

You feel boneless and tired while he finds his pleasure, staring down at your warm, satisfied face as he groans. You can feel him inside, the twitch of his cock as he groans, the sudden warmth behind rubber.

His body half collapses on yours, sweat slick skin sticking together. You wrap yourself around him, foot stroking at his calf, hands scratching at the back of his scalp while he tries to catch his breath against your neck. You can feel the pound of his heart where your chests press together, know he must feel yours. When they slow in tandem, beating together, you find Eddie’s wide, soft eyes.

“That-” his voice cracks, his throat clears. “Was that okay?” When you nod, offering a tired smile, he strokes some of your hair back. “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” He says, waiting for you to nod again.

You take a shaky breath as Eddie’s softening cock pulls from you, stealing all the soothing warmth inside and leaving you with a sensitive, fluttering pussy. You whimper softly at the tender feeling. “I know,” he breathes. “I know, sweet girl. Gimme one second.”

Shivers run up your spine when Eddie disappears briefly to deal with the condom, a little prickle of something unpleasant at your neck. You’re only starting to replay everything you just did and said that might be shameful, embarrassing, in your head when he returns. Eddie wipes warm damp cloth between your legs. He smooths away the uncomfortable, cooling stickiness. Predictably, he tosses the cloth over his shoulder to fall back into bed and pull you into his chest. There, with his arms tight around you, his adoring gaze set on you, any shame your mind could convince you to feel falls away. Why would you dwell on it, when you can let yourself feel all the warmth Eddie brings?

You lie together for a few minutes, tracing Eddie’s tattoos. Over and over, you drag your pointer finger over the lines forming CORRODED COFFIN under his ribs, letters on Eddie’s skin.

“Thank you,” you murmur eventually, watching Eddie’s eyebrows pull together. You kiss his chest. “I’m glad it was you.”

“Yeah?” He asks, voice breaking a little at your immediate nod. “Well, uh, thank you for trusting me, sweetheart.”

You lie together until the sweat on your bodies is cool and sticky. When the first shiver runs up your body, Eddie helps you stand from the bed like he expects you to be walking like a new-born deer. You manage into the bathroom by yourself, emerge washed and clad in cosy pyjamas, his soft hoodie. Eddie takes his turn, and returns to bed with steamed warm pink skin and dripping hair that sprinkles droplets on your face when he shakes it out like a dog.

You drift asleep with Eddie’s breath at your ear, his fingers stroking steady at your waist.

You wake the next morning to that same sunlight through blinds, the same dog barking in the distance. If it weren’t for the new ache between your legs, you might have thought you’d dreamt the entire perfect day, woken up to find it was Saturday again.

You turn yourself over to Eddie’s side, find his long bare back, pale and dusted with freckles. In a second, you’ll curl yourself around him, wrap an arm over his torso so he can wake up feeling something like the way you feel when he holds you.

But now, your rapid pulse pounds in your ears. Even as he sleeps, your body won't allow you to say it, or even whisper it. Your throat closes up with the thought of too much, too soon.

But you ache to do something, to let the feeling out somehow. Caught between your throbbing heart and the worries that have kept you quiet your whole life, you shuffle forward, reach out, and draw eight letters, one after the other, on the soft skin of Eddie’s shoulder.

I L O V E Y O U

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x shy!reader

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