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crownedghostprince · 8 months

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That’s My Emotional Support Wife!

Legolas x Female!Accident Prone!Reader

Fandom: The Hobbit

Legolas and (Y/N) had courted for about a decade before finally deciding to marry. (Y/N) was the daughter of Lord Elrond, just slightly younger than Arwen, and after marriage she moved to Mirkwood to live with Legolas and her father-in-law the King, Thranduil. Legolas didn’t mind how accident prone (Y/N) was, sometimes it was even sort of cute. And now there are 13 dwarves in the cells of Mirkwood having to be dealt with whilst the Elves continue their parties, patrols and usual antics that the dwarves were unaware of until that day.

Requests: Closed. Requested: no.

Warning(s): None.

Note: This is sort of silly, so if you enjoy a fun fanfiction, this is the one to read! (Y/C) - stands for (Your Choice) and (Your Colour).

Word Count: 2,021

[Third Person Perspective]

(I couldn’t find any attached link to this picture from Pinterest, but it was under the account name “The Facegirl” when I found it. They seem cool from what I checked out.)

The dwarves were not happy to be locked up in the cells of Mirkwood under King Thranduil’s rule. The elves would just pass by here and there as if it was an ordinary path to take. These cells weren’t in dungeons or anything like you might expect, for the bars of the cells were incredibly tough and strong. Therefore, there was no need to put the cells in such an inconvenient spot and instead it was closer to the main area where most Wood Elves just wandered through. (This was also best as the Woodland Realm almost never had prisoners to jail).

So, the dwarves were trapped in their cells, waiting for Thorin to join them (hopefully with good news). They’d tried breaking out of the cell in whatever way they could think. From slamming against the bars with their shoulders, to kicking them with their legs and shaking them with their hands. But still the cell bars held strong. Bofur was the first to actually observe the elves, rather than sneer and ignore them like the others. The others didn’t wish to make eye-contact or even look in their general direction.

Bofur watched, as many elves walked through speaking elvish and looking graceful. Some elves were so graceful when they walked it looked almost as if they were floating across the floor, not even touching the ground. He struggled to tell who was male and who was female, but the sounds of their voices definitely helped - even if he couldn’t understand their language.

Eventually he saw a beautiful elf with (Y/C) hair and (Y/C) eyes. His? Her? Dress was a beautiful mixture of pink and purple that fell past their ankles and hid their feet. Thus, they appeared to be floating as they walked. Bofur smiled, appreciating how beautiful the elves could truly be. How graceful and--and she walked into a wall. This got the dwarves quietly chuckling from they cells.

Even Dwalin was hiding his snicker. They would laugh more openly, but they were in foul moods and didn’t want to anger the elves when the elves had an advantage against them. The elf maiden didn’t seem to mind - hearing their chuckles with her good hearing - and laughed with them. A shadow crossed the floor and Legolas landed with perfection as he came to check on his wife. The dwarves’ faces immediately molded into scowls at the sight of the rude elf that found them and cast them into their cells.

They continued to watch as Legolas checked his wife’s face for cuts and smiled when she was cleared to be okay. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and took her hand, walking her to the staircase to continue her on her path. She was not halfway up the staircase when she tripped and fell. Luckily, Legolas was used to this and simply caught her and gracefully carried her the rest of the way. He set her back down on the marble floors, kissed the back of her hand and returned to his position up high, watching over the area. She curtsied and although the dwarves could not hear - or understand it - she thanked him. “Ni ‘lassui en, Legolas.”

An hour later, Thorin joined his company in the cells. He simply explained how he had not taken any deal with King Thranduil and that all the Elves could...well...let’s not translate that now. The dwarves were upset by this news, feeling like they’d be trapped forever. But Thorin knew there was a Bilbo Baggins somewhere out there. And he would help free them. He was sure of it. Bilbo was not so sure. Every time he thought he had a clear path to descend to the cells, suddenly a bunch of elves walked by. He was thankful the ring he found made him invisible.

Some were going to patrol outside, some were laughing and telling jokes in Elvish, some were carrying wine and food, or decorations and others were reading a lovely looking book as they walked by. The thing is this: Bilbo didn’t have many openings to sneak past and not bump into someone. So instead he decided to follow them for a brief moment and saw them setting up a sort of party. With decorations and a clear view of the sky where Bilbo could see the tinges of orange and pink beginning to appear in the clouds.

There were tables lined with bottles of wine and kegs of wine and cups for the wine. There were a few tables of food, but mostly it was wine. With lots of seats, some elves already perched on the staircases and some elves sitting up high on ledges already getting drunk. Many were singing and some were possibly telling poems? Or stories? Bilbo wasn’t quite sure but it was a merry gathering that was forming.

‘Well,’ Bilbo decided to himself, ‘Time to find those dwarves.’ And so he walked back the way he came, sneaking down corridors of marble and past beautiful pillars with beautiful, intricate carvings running down them. Soon his eyes laid upon, a (Y/C) haired elf with a beautiful dress and stunning eyes. She was reading a book as she walked absentmindedly. He decided to follow her and see where he ended up.

They walked for almost half an hour when he heard the familiar, grumpy dwarves’ voices as they hushedly whispered to each other in Khuzdul. ‘Finally,’ Bilbo thought excitedly, ‘I’ve found them!’ He waited behind the she-elf, watching where she was headed. By the time he realized she was about to walk down a flight of stairs and possibly injure herself, a blond elf was by her side with an arm around her waist. Legolas was so accustomed to stopping his wife from falling down stairs it was almost a daily thing to catch her and gently lead her away.

“A, Legolas.” She smiled to her lover with such a soft gaze he felt sure to melt under it. Although the dwarves did not know it, ‘A’ was Elvish for ‘Hi’. However, they simply thought it was an exclamation like the English ‘Ah’ when one realizes they almost walked off the top step of a flight of stairs.

However, (Y/N) was so accident prone she was no longer surprised when someone stopped her from walking into a wall, or a door, or out a window and this case was no different. Bruises and cuts from falling down stairs was common for our silly she-elf lady. Legolas sighed fondly. “Hiril vuin, please do fall down the stairs before a most wonderful celebration.” ‘Hiril vuin’ was Elvish for ‘my lady’ and was a sweet and simple way for Legolas to remain caring, but serious, in front of the dwarvish prisoners.

Bofur spoke up with a chuckle from the cells below, “Is falling down the stairs a common occurrence? I would love to see such a performance everyday!” He joked. The dwarves laughed in agreement except for Oin who could barely hear what Bofur said.

“What did he say?” He asked Gloin who was in the cell beside him. His question went unanswered as Gloin continued to loudly laugh. Legolas glared down at the cells whilst (Y/N) simply laughed with the dwarves. She had a wonderful sense of humour - she has two older and fun twin brothers after all - and she was also used to these jokes which made it even more fun in her opinion!

Once the laughter had settled down a bit (Y/N) chuckled out, “I knew I should’ve been the King’s jester!” and the howls of laughter sprung back up again. Their thunderous voices bounced of the walls and echoed through the building. Even Legolas and Bilbo chuckled at (Y/N)’s joke. As the dwarves continued to laugh, crack jokes and sometimes just rest in silence, Legolas decided to simply ignore them and inquire about his wife’s current book. “Oh! It’s a book of Elvish poems and short love stories. I fell in love with it after reading the first couple of love poems. It even has some poems specifically to be read just before you sleep. Oh! I’ll find one of my favourites for you!”

She began to carefully flip back through the previously read pages, keeping her bookmark on her current page as she did so. Bilbo took this chance to quietly sneak past the couple and down the stairs to the cells in order to look for the keys. Legolas smiled adoringly as his wife quietly muttered the poem titles until she found the one she was looking for. Although the Elvish is truly beautiful and wonderful to read, here’s the English equivalent instead:

“ Your Divine Beauty,

The stars crown your head, As you rest peacefully in bed, And the moon bathes you in its’ light, Kissing you with all its’ might.

Such beauty even the sun bows down, So its’ colours may reflect onto your white gown. Pink, orange and gold, Dare not touch or enfold.

For they will not dare, To hide your beauty nor ensnare.”

Although Bilbo and the dwarves had no clue what she said as it was in Elvish, still they folded to the sound of her melodic voice when she read aloud her favourite poem. Legolas gently kissed her forehead when she was finished and sighed wistfully. “I adore that poem so much now.” He smiled down as their foreheads rested together.

“I’m glad you liked it, dear.” She grinned, returning his kiss with a giggle. Only a moment had passed when they heard approaching footsteps. Bilbo snuck back to a corner in case they should pass him and the dwarves returned to their original scowls as two Elven guards came to a stop in front of the couple. The woman curtsied to the guards and they returned with a bow.

“We’re sorry to interrupt, but the celebrations are beginning.” They explained, carefully watching Legolas’ eyes as he sighed.

“Very well. Then I shall not keep you any longer, my dear. Please, go enjoy yourself and do not wait up for me. I will join you shortly after I have finished my patrol over the cells.” Legolas kissed his wife’s hand with a tenderness and care you only hear and see in romance books.

“Thank-you, darling. I shall join them, but I shall still wait for you.” She grinned with a cheeky glint to her eyes.

“Why do I bother to tell you to not wait, you don’t listen anyway.” He chuckled sweetly. “Very well. Now go, before my father is disappointed with both of us being absent.”

“Ah, yes, I should hurry then. Take care, darling, and try not to roughen up the dwarves too much.” She kissed him once more before leaving with the guards to the celebrations. Legolas sighed wistfully once more and did not move until she was safe out of sight with the guards. He trusted them to catch her if she should fall.

But even if she is injured, they have healers that are always pre-prepared for her anyway. He turned back and before he could ascend back to his post, the dwarves spoke up.

“So she and you are...well...together, huh?”

“She’s my emotional support wife.” Legolas grinned mischievously, knowing fully well she could still hear them with her excellent Elvish hearing. A second later his ears heard her voice in the distance,

“I heard that!” And he smiled hearing her voice once more.

“You’ll do well to not disrespect her whilst you’re here.” Legolas stared the dwarves down as he finally returned to his post, just out of their line of sight above them. The dwarves rolled their eyes and proceeded to taunt him with funny comments anyway. All were harmless, but they were fishing for a reaction from Legolas so they did their best to make it sound almost like insults. He didn’t care enough to hear though, he was ignoring them and mentally reciting his wife’s favourite poem so when she was having a bad sick day he’d know it off by heart.

#the hobbit #thorin's company #x reader #legolas x reader #legolas #middle earth #fanfiction #accident prone reader

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misguidedasgardian · 7 months

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I want to steal the bride (1)

1. As Lemon and Chocolate

MASTERLIST

Summary: It had been ten years since you met Aemond, your best friend

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x BestFriend!Reader, Cregan Star x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Aemond is a sl*t jiji, active sexual life, implied smut, might miss some warnigns, Aemond does threaten to throw himself of a bridge, but he is playing, I will put thaton here just in case

Wordcount: 5k

Disclaimer: this is a direct adaptation of the movie "Made of honor, and its script! the pictures of the header are not mine, I found them on pinterest

Notes: Well, this is of course the adaptation of the movie! so it won’t be long… five parts maybe? including this one! is my favorite movie, so enjoy! Aemond calls reader “love” a lot, because I’m tired of the use of (Y/N) jejeje

10 years later

“Good morning”, she purred, hugging his shoulders, trying to prevent him from getting dressed and leaving. Aemond only chuckled, turning slightly and kissing her cheek

“I'm late”, he said matter of factly, with a smirk on his lips. He left his female companion on the bed and went to grab his dressing shirt and jacket, putting them on quickly

“What are you doing tonight?”, she asked sweetly, oh she was cute, enough to have seen her twice already

“I don't do back-to-backs”, he remembered her

“Isn't that what we were doing last night??”, she said, raising one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows

“No, that was something different”, he reminded her, “back-to-backs are seeing each other two nights in a row and you know I don't do that”, he reminded her gently. She sighed, covering herself with the sheets

“Couldn't you just break one of your stupid rules?”, she whined

“No”, he said shortly, grabbing his jacket from a chair in the corner of the room

“For me?”, she asked then

“I'm sorry. I don't break the rules”, he said with a soft smile, he did want to see her again, just not like that. “I have a rule about that”, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, “see you next week”. She left her in her bed and exited her apartment

“Gods I’m late”, he muttered, climbing into his classic convertible

He speed down the street and into the Starbucks that was the nearest to your job, jumped out finding a miracle parking spot and jogged inside

He didn’t have tog et back to work, but you did, so the lunchtime was always a bit speedy, but to no matter, he loved more than anything his lunchtimes with you

“Excuse me”, he called the attention of the barista and shot him a quick hello, “Sorry. Can I get a grande drip, and a decaf, triple grande non-fat, extra-hot, stirred, no-foam Caramel Macchiato?”, he felt proud of how easy he had learned your coffee order, “with whipped cream, extra caramel?”, he continued, “And fill that 70 percent of the way. Thank you!”

He received his order fairly quickly, and moved to the side to sweeten his coffee. He looked to the side and couldn’t help but gaze upon the beautiful woman that stood there, with his coffee in her hand, and hers on the other

“Oh, here. Let me put a coffee collar on that for you”, he whispered sweetly, he grabbed his own invention and placed it around the cup for her

“Oh, thank you”, she flirted

“I hear the guy that invented that gets a dime for each one used”, he said raising one of his eyebrows

“You're kidding”, she teased

“I am not”, he assured her, giving her a wink, “That could add up”, she smirked, looking at the second coffee she was holding

“Oh, I think I picked up yours by accident”, she whispered seductively. Aemond smirked, receiving the coffee from her, “Sorry about that”, she made sure to touch his fingers and much and as long as she could.

“Oh, that's all right. Thank you”, he said, noticing the number and her name on the collar

“Anytime”, she flirted

“Bye-bye”, he said, remembering he needed to rush, he got out of the coffee shop quickly, looking over at the paper cup, "Gloria.", he tasted

He got lucky again when the traffic was smooth on his way to your job

He found just in front of the crotch of the painting of a man, and the movement you were making made you look like you were… he chuckled, looking up at you, he took his time, and when he spend a couple of minutes staring at your funny pose, he decided to make himself known

“Good morning Love, coffee the way you like it”, you turned around to see your friend standing by the scaffold, smiling up at you, you laughed

“Perfect timing. I just finished working on his balls!”, you giggled, pointing behind you

“That's some balls... Yeah. Good”, he mumbled, embarrassed, “Um, so, I made a reservation”, he finalized with a shy smile

So not even fifteen minutes later, you were having lunch in your favorite chinese place in King’s Landing

“So, uh, which rule is this again?” you asked, sipping on the rests of your coffee

“No back-to-backs”, he said quickly, signaling for the waiter with the cart to pass by your table

“Oh, isn't it the same as the "no more than once a week" rule?”, you asked, entertained

“No, the "once a week" rule works Monday to Friday…”

“Oh, so, theoretically, you could have a date on Sunday night and then Monday without breaking it”, you said, really impressed

“Exactly, you got it”, you loved it when Aemond smiled like that, pursing even more his curvy lips

“Of course!”, you teased, “Ah, here we go!”, you chanted when the cart was coming towards you, you were starving, “Good morning”

“Hey, good morning”, Aemond greeted

“Can I get the... steamed buns, uh, the scalloped steamed dumplings and the vegetarian and shrimp steamed dumplings?”, you asked, pointing at all the more healthy options. You caught Aemond staring as the lady served you your food

“Thank you”, he whispered, once the nice lady had left

“For what?”, you laughed

“You know how much I love the fried stuff. You're looking after me”, he said with a soft smile

“Of course!”, you said back with a wide smile, “that is why I’m here for! right?”, you teased, “So, what did she say?” you kept the conversation going about his last conquest

“Oh, she was hurt, but, you know, at least I was…”

“But you were honest, weren't you?”, you mocked

“What? I was. I am. Always”, he defended, almost offended

“I know you are, but it's just… shocking how you use it as a shield”, you analyzed

“Maybe I should lie. Be more like Jaime Lannister. Say whatever it takes to get a woman in bed”, he said quickly

“Do not be like Jaime Lannister. He's so gross.”, you said, taking out your tongue in a gesture of disgust

“He only hit on you once”, he said with a smile

“At my father's funeral!”, you replied, “he was his friend!”

“Okay, he's not known for his sensitivity”, he hissed

“Oh, God. Anyways…”, you dismissed, he looked at you

“What?”, he asked

“Nothing.”, you answered

“Oh, I know that "nothing".” he said, squinting his eye at you, “It's not nothing, it's something. Anyway...?”

“Anyway, we both know you don't need to lie to get a woman into bed”, you deviated from the subject at hand. Grabbing the cup with the woman’s number on it

“Gloria”, he called, “I don't wanna lose that.Can I keep it? Thank you”, he said, taking the cup from your hand, he admired the number written there like it was some sort of artwork

You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of… something in your chest, you sometimes asked about his conquests so you get more used to the idea of Aemond being a playboy, and to convince yourself he was never going to change….

“Here's another rule too: 24-hour rule.”, he said, finally leaving the cup on the table, and looking at you, “I can't call her for another 24 hours. Then it appears I'm too desperate”

“Yeah, right. It’s better for her to think that you are some hoarder that would keep a disposable cup of coffee for more than an hour!”, you mocked, he seemed shocked and then he nodded

“Good point”, he chuckled.

When you were done with a healthy lunch, you were ready to splurge, in a good and needed dessert. Of course, like always, the best bakery in town was filled to the brim, almost a block of waiting line, but you didn’t care, as you walked to the end, of course, always talking

“You know, Renly sent me another letter”, you teased him

“Asking you to move to Storm’s End and marry him again?”, he asked, a bit annoyed

“A slice of apple-crumb pie”, you guessed, ignoring him as you walked by a table that ordered just that

“No. Got that last time”, he dismissed, “You guys broke up like a year ago”

“Nineteen months”, you said unimpressed

“You are counting?”, he mocked

“No, he is. It was in the letter”, you looked at him and he laughed, “Lemon, butter-cream cup”, you guessed again

“Hmm, not feeling the cream cup today”, he said, looking back at you, you coiled your arm with his and lean over his shoulder

“Cranberry-orange muffin?”

“Oh, Love, come on. You're losing”, he twhined, squeezing your arm

“I know, I know, I know. Okay, okay, okay, okay…”, you said, looking at the showcase with all the desserts in it

“Come on. You're disappointing me”, he teased

“I got it. I got it!”, you celebrated squealing in his ear,

“Whoa”, he said, leaning away from you but you held onto him tightly

“Okay, I so have it, I so have it!”, you kept teasing, “Cream-cheese-swirl brownie!”, you guessed, and only when you saw his smile, you knew you got it right

“Ooh. Mmmm yeah, you're so good”, he said back

“YES!”, you celebrated until everyone in line was watching, “Mmmm I want one too”, you muttered

After you had your delicious desserts on the go, you made your last stop of your lunch break, to a department antique shop, he had brought you along to pick a gift for his grandfather Otto, who was getting married for the sixth? time?

“What do you think of this?”, he asked, showing you a crystal spice rack, “I think we should bring them this”, he muttered, you looked at him seriously

“Aemond, I'm not going to another one of your grandfather's weddings”, you said, annoyed

“Love? Please”, he purred with that soft voice you enjoyed hearing

“Take one of the girls you've been rubbing against”, you teased, looking away from him

“No weddings or family events”, he remembered you

“Oh, that's right, I forgot that rule!”, you giggled, looking at the strange things this antique shop had to offer, “Leaves the wrong impression”, you mimicked. Aemond continued as you both walked amongst the small shops. You looked at him with a warning in your eyes

“It does”. He agreed as you sighed, you were going to have to attend his grandfather’s wedding… again didn’t you? well the excuse to dress up and eat good free food did sound entertaining

You stopped by a shop who sold leather purses, one with a small alligator attached to it caught your eyes

“Is this made with real alligator?”, you asked the old salesman

“Yes, baby alligator”, he said proudly, you opened your mouth, enraged

“You should be ashamed of yourself!”, you cursed him. Aemond came quickly and grabbed you gently by your upper arms and drag you away before you jumped the man

You kept looking at a small shop of watches and belts, whe Aemond separated from you to crouch at the side of a beautiful Golden Retriever

“Look at you!”, he cooed with a childish voice, grabbing his face and started petting him. The dog loved it, moving his tail left and right, “Hello, there. Hello, there. Aren't you beautiful? Oh, I love you. Yes, I do, I love you!”, he kept saying, and you raised one of your eyebrows as you looked down at the interaction.

A man as handsome as Aemond, with that shiny platinum blonde hair, and those features, petting one of the sweetest animals on earth… it was an image worth millions, and you understood why he had so much game

“You're beautiful. You're so beautiful. Look at that face! Love you, love you, love you!”, he kept saying, as he finally gave the poor dog a rest and stood up to continue his shopping

“You should try saying that to a human sometime”, you teased

“What? A human? You don't say that to a human”, he mocked back, he seemed serious, but then he cracked up a smile, “You're sweet. Love you. See? I said it!”, he said softly, you only smiled and kept looking around. “Love, please. Come to the wedding!”, he begged grabbing your arm softly

“No.”, you said softly, “He gets married and I go!”, you whined

“I go because he's my grandfather and I care deeply for the man and everybody knows he doesn't love them..”, he said quietly, “they don't love him. It's pathetic. Breaks my heart. I don't know what to say”, he kept saying, you looked at him squinting your eyes, wondering if he was serious, his face and that movement of his lips on which he pouted shortly and then draw them back told you he was

“You know, if someone's making a mistake and it's not your place to interfere, you simply say: "I'm happy you're happy.", yous aid with a smile, he look back at you and smiled back

"I'm happy you're happy.", he repeated

“Yeah”, you muttered, coiling your arm with his like you tended to do

“Okay. I'll do that”, he said as he kept looking for something to but, mumbling and repeating those four words

He look back at you with those puppy eyes

“I promise you, this is the last time I'll ask you to come!”, he said quickly, “And then I'll find somebody else to come for the next few”, the prospect of him getting so close to another that he would ask to his grandfather wedding did not amused you as you thought it would, “Love, please”

“That's cute”, you mocked, and then you sighed, “last time”, you sounded defeated

“Thank you! Thank you!”, he leaned in and kissed your cheek

. . .

Aemond fixed his tie as he walked up the steps to the front of the chapel, he there could see his grandfather Otto, and his lawyer Erryk talking frantically on the phone

“Right. Okay, okay. You get the house in the Hamptons”, he said to his grandfather, Aemond frowned, looking at his grandad, “She's asking for the apartment in the city and 30 grand a month”

“Thirty?”, he whined, “but…”

“Are you still negotiating the prenup?” Aemond asked alarmed, as soon as he saw him Otto walked towards him to cradle his son’s cheeks

“Now the party starts, my son is here”, he celebrated, hugging him tightly

“Grandad, please. I can't breathe”, he chuckled, “Grandfather. Please”

“Did you bring the lovely (y/n)?” he asked, finally releasing him

“Yes, I did”, he said with a shy smile

“You know, you don't act on that pretty soon, you know what I'm gonna do?”, he teased

“No”, he whispered, scared

“I'm gonna make her my number six”

“It's seven”, interrupted his lawyer, “This is number six”, they both look at the lawyer and then turned to each other

“Yeah, that sounds about right”, laughed Otto, he then looked at his grandson.

Aemond was the only one speaking to his grandfather, his mother had cut him out, around his third marriage, so did his brothers, but he couldn’t

“My God, you are pretty…”, he whispered

“Oh, grandad…”

“I used to be that pretty once”, he said with a chuckle, “Eryk, look how pretty my boy is!”, he celebrated, turning to him

“He's beautiful. They won't accept a minimum of five times a week”, he said pointing at the phone on his ear

“She promised five, I want five”, said Otto

“What did she promise you five times a week?”, asked Aemond, white as paper

“Four times?”, asked Otto, Eryk shook his head

“Two”, he fought

“Oh, this is disturbing”, whined Aemond, taking a few steps back, he looked at the marble stair he just climbed and wondered what kind of damage he would get if he just jumped, nothing major, only a few bumps… only to stop hearing this conversation

“Four, and make it a weekly BJ!”, Aemond sighed, rubbing his forehead

Otto looked at his grandson

“Come on, tell me. Say what you gotta say”, Aemond raised his head to look at him

“Well, I'm happy if you're happy”, he said, smiling when he remembered you and what you told him, but Otto chuckled

"You're too old for her, grandad. She doesn't love you.This is embarrassing. You're gonna rack up your fifth divorce.", he mocked

“Sixth”, remembered Erryk

“Sixth”, agreed Otto

“Come on, I'm happy if you're happy”, Aemond said, shooting him a calming smile

“Bullshit”, he laughed

“They'll go for four if you exercise more!”, celebrated Erryk, “She says you can't gain any more weight”

“Take it. Deal!”, Otto cheered, “I told her I weighed 10 pounds more than I do. Ain't love grand?”, he said cheerfully. Erryk finished the call and passed him two blocks of papers

“Sign them both, please”, he said quickly

“What's he signing now?”, asked Aemond, worried

“The current prenup and his last divorce papers”, said Erryk with a content smile. Aemond’s smile wiped out pretty quickly

“Ah, that's just great”, he mumbled

He was part of the marriage courtship, so he didn’t get to see you until the party, that was held a few blocks away from the church

You were waiting for him with a flute of champagne in hand, and a mashup of “i got a woman” with “gold digger” was blasting the speakers and got everybody dancing on the dancefloor

“Cheers”, you giggled, he took his and clinged his with yours

“Cheers”

“Did you tell your grandfather you loved him?”, you asked him

“I told him I cared for him”, you sighed

“You can't even tell your grandfather. I don't get that”, you said, defeated, “you call me love all the time!”

“It's a guy thing”

“No, it's a Aemond thing”, you corrected

“I’m going to need something stronger than this”, he whispered, “Oh, well, you're an "I love you" slut”, you gasped

“Are you kidding me??”, you asked, the audacity

“You say it all the time, to everybody”

“Only the people that are important to me”, you defended

You were interrupted when the waiter brought you pieces of cake that you ordered

“Oh, this looks so good”, you moaned when he placed in front of you the lemon cake that you ordered, in turn, Aemond ordered the chocolate one

“That does looks good. What is that?”, he asked whispering in your ear leaning over you, he used his fork to steal a piece of cake from your plate and you giggled as he tasted it and moaned with satisfaction, “Lemon. I should've ordered this”

“This looks good”, you said back, stealing a piece of his cake instead

“You always order better than I do”, he said with a smile, ‘It's lemon, right? It's good. I'm ordering that from now on”

“No, you won't”, you fought with a smile

“Why?”, he asked

“I need you to order the chocolate cake so I can have some”, you answered simply, the chocolate was just delicious. He chuckled

“That makes sense”, he said happily

“There's my son!” You almost spilled your drink when you saw Aemond’s new stepmother approaching you, with a very inappropriate low cut dress, she was gorgeous,

“Here we go”, Aemond muttered to turn to her with a smile, “Grandson actually”, he said with a mockingly smile

“Oh very funny!”, she giggled, “isn’t he funny?”, she asked you, you only laughed

“Very much so!”, you quipped

“Margaery. How are you?”, he asked politely

“If you're a bad boy, I'm gonna spank you”, she giggled, Aemond looked back at you with scared eyes but a weird smile on his lips

“Yeah. Do you know what I would like to say to you? Is that... Ow!”, you stopped him by pinching his arm

“I want you to listen to me, Aemond”, she said with her big cat-like eyes, gods she was beautiful, she took his hand, and placed it in her chest, you gasps as Aemond was visibly uncomfortable

“Yes”, he encouraged quickly and nervously

“If you need any money… or you need any advice…”, she said slowly

“Right”, he said uncomfortably, trying to pull away his hand but she would let him

“...or you got girl problems”

“I don't think… it’s a good idea”

“I need you to think of me how you would a real mother”

“Grandmother!”, you pitched in and Aemond snorted

“Yeah, that's exactly what I…”, Otto showed up, hugging his wife tightly who released Aemond

“Look at this beauty, will you?”, he boasted, his chest filled with pride, “Hello, sweetie”, he greeted you

“Hello Otto, it was a wonderful wedding”

“Thank you my dear” he then turned to his new wife, “Drunk as the night I first met her”, he said with admiration making her giggle

“So romantic”, mumbled Aemond. Then the bartender gave you the shot that Aemond had asked for, but before he could drank it, Margaery snatched it from his hand and drank it quickly

“Oh, please. By all means”, muttered Aemond rolling his eyes

“You are a bad influence on her!”, teased Otto, you just eyed Aemond carefully

“Me?”, he asked back

“Last shot, okay?”, Otto warned his wife, who roared to life and giggled, grabbing her new husband’s hand

“I'm stealing you away, let’s dance!”, she laughed, and they walked awy from the both of you

“He does know that he can just date, right?”, you asked Aemond, entertained

“No, I don't think he does”, he whispered, now the bartender finally grace you with two shots, you took one each

“To grandmothers”, he said, defeated

“To mothers. Cheers”, you giggled back

You drank down the shot and you hissed when it burned your throats, this was going to be a long night

Aemond frowned suddenly, and you followed his uneven eyes (he had a glass eye installed). but couldn’t find anything unusual

“Oh, God”, he said suddenly trying to hide behind the bar, “Hide me”, he said, grabbing you and placing you in front of him

“What?”, you asked, confused

“It's my dad's patient coordinator”, he whispered, you looked back to see her, Aemond had told you about her before, but before you could, he grabbed you back, hiding even more

“Yeah, don't look, don't look. Don't look”

“What’s going on?”, you asked him

“No, no. She's obsessed with me!”, he whispered frantically, “Yeah, she's created a website called AllThingsAemond.org”, you chuckled

“The psycho blogger?”, you asked him

“Yes” then he grabbed your hand and turned quickly, “Okay, come on. Dance with me. Watch yourself”, he dragged you to the dance floor and took you in his arms. You were finally able to see her, searching for someone, or something frantically

“I think she's cute”, you mocked. She was tall and lean, redhead, and sharp blue eyes

“Oh, stop it”, grunted Aemond

“I'm serious”, you defended

“Just keep dancing woman”, grunted Aemond, and then, he saw her turn to him so he spun you around making you gasp to turn your back to her

“Hide me. Up. Neck, neck, neck. Up. Back. Side, side. Go. Over”, he signaling, moving frantically to avoid the woman, “Her last blog was a two-page description of my face”, you laughed, truly entertained, you had never seen him like this

“Where, there is much to describe”, you felt his hand get clammy, he was truly nervous

“You see, she doesn't think my nose is too bent or my lips are too thin”, he mocked, you frowned in confusion

“Who said that?”, you asked

“You did. When we met”, he said

“Well, I lied”, you said, looking at him in his eyes

“What?”, he asked back

“I thought you were hot”, you confessed, he looked back at you surprised

“Why didn't you say something?”, he asked incredibly surprised, so much he surprised you too

“Well, you told me I looked like a dog”, you giggled

“That's because I was just trying to sleep with you”, he offered, analyzing your face

“Why haven't you since?”, you asked quietly, he held you tighter against him

“Well, I like having you in my life”, he gave you that smile that makes you think he wasn’t being serious, so you just sighed

“Funny” you mocked

“Hi, Aemond”, you both screamed when you were surprised by the blogger/stalker

“Oh, hi”, greeted your friend grabbing you even more tightly, this time, making you stick to his front

“Did you see the new blog?”, she asked excitedly, she was pretty, you wondered if Aemond ever… slept with her

“Uh, no, we haven't”, he said, you looked back at him at the word he used

“Who's this?”, she turned hostile towards you

“This?”, he asked, looking at you with a smirk on his lips, well, this is my… My girlfriend”, you raised an eyebrow looking back at him, but well, he was you friend so you were going to play along

“Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?”, she asked angrily

“Because I don't know you”, he said back, annoyed, but oh you wanted to play both along

“Look, we have a really really open relationship”, you said, relaxed, winking at her, her face lit up again

“Really?”, she asked excitedly. Aemond squeezed your hand

“You know, I wanted to talk to you about that, princess”, he said looking at you with urgency

“Princess...?”, you teased

“I-I-I don't wanna be with anybody but you”, he said quickly, turning to you

“I don't know if I'm really quite ready to make that commitment”, you said dismissively, moving your shoulders upwards, “you know my rules…”, you chuckled, his face in that moment was very comical

“We're a bit of an emotional retard”, he explained, she now looked terribly angry

“I think I need to start a new blog now”, she threatened, and abandoned you

“That is so scary”, you said

“She's psychotic on top of being… Oh, this is not good”, you looked at her go, pushing with a rare strength everyone of her path, it was kind of comical

“Get out of my way!”, you heard her say

“Okay, good, she's gone”, Aemond released you from his grasp, his body what abandoning you

“Perfect. Let's go”

“You want to go already?”, you asked him, he nodded, grabbing your hand and taking you of the ballroom, and out of the building

It had been a quick affair, the sun was setting. and as such, you decided to take a walk through the King’s Landing park

At first you walked in silence, enjoying the beautiful scenery and warmth of the season, but then you remembered you had something to say to Aemond

“Do you remember that ancestral home in Winterfell with those paintings I told you about?”, you asked, he looked back at you and smiled

“It's all I think about”, he mocked

“Stop it, Aemond”, you giggled, pushing him playfully, “I finally got the board to sign off on making them additions to our permanent collection”

“Really?”, he asked, now truly invested

“But they want me to go to Winterfell for an acquisition trip”, you said shortly

“When do you go?”, he asked, alarmed

“Couple of days”, you whispered

“Couple of days? For how long?”, now he was alarmed

“Six weeks”, he opened his eye widely

“That's a long time! more than a month!”, but then when he looked at your face, he softened his, “That's great”, he confessed

“You think?”, you asked, surprised and happy

“Yes, it's a great opportunity for you”, he admired, “You're like the museum maven of the The Keep”

“It's got a good ring to it”, you teased, and then smiled brightly at him, “thank you”, you whispered, looking into his handsome face

“Congratulations”, he said after a long, pleased sigh, “Six Fridays”, he said then

“That is six fridays”, you agreed

“What am I gonna do without you?”, he asked

“Oh, well. I can just imagine”, thinking about all the free time he was going to have to bang women left and right. He looked at you, and then he climbed onto the railway of the bridge just as you were walking above it

“What are you doing!?”, you asked, trying to grab him

“I'm gonna jump!”, he threatened with a chuckled

“No. Gods. Aemond get down!

“Six Fridays, how can I live without you!?”, he asked theatrically, grabbing your hands

“Can you not take anything seriously?”, you laughed

“Yeah, I can”, he defended, just when you thought he was going to take it seriously this time

“Get down”, you demanded, and he grabbed you for stability and jumped back to the bridge, “Let's get you another drink!”, you suggested

“I think I've had too many already”, he whined, “Oh, thanks for coming to the wedding”, he whispered, coiling your arm with his

“It was a ball. I can't wait for number seven”, you giggled

“It's coming up soon, I have a feeling”, he lamented

“And what do you have to say?”, you whispered

“I’m happy you are happy”, he said back

“That’s my boy”

“I’m going to miss you”, he admitted

“Mee too”

. . .

You were staring at the wallpaper of your phone, it was a picture of you and Aemond, your face next to him, both smiling to the camera

You were going to miss him

He was your very best friend in the entire world, and six weeks was a long time, wasn’t it?

“We also ask at this time that you turn off all your electronic devices. Please leave your cell phones turned off for the full duration of the flight”, you heard through the speakers of the plane. With a last look your turned off your phone

You were so excited for this trip!

It was going to be huge for your work, and you couldn’t wait to get to Winterfell, you had never been but they say it's beautiful

Was it weird that you wanted Aemond to be there with you?

Maybe

But he would never go for something like that, you didn’t think

taglist! @snh96 @sagelovesreading @toodlesxcuddles @ammo23 @bananzaa @ttkttt

#misguidedmade #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #cregan stark #cregan x reader #made of honor #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon

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lillypad910 · 9 months

Text

His Angel

Pairing: Bi! Eddie Munson x Bi! Christian (Baptist) raised! plus sized! girly! f! Reader

Word count: 10k

Warnings: (this is not pre-read, so it may have errors) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv, protected sex (they wrap it), fluff (lots of it mixed in), reader identifies as an atheist after childhood trauma dealing with religious beliefs, pet names (Angel [main], Sweetheart, Baby, Baby girl), use of (y/n) but only with family members.

Summary: You were always a good girl, a good Christian girl who wanted to be loved by your family. But growing up in that house was hard. With two older brothers way older than you, and parents already in their late 50’s, your relationship with your family is… difficult. You were taught that what you are is wrong, but then you fell in love with a certain guitarist who makes you remember that you are worthy of love.

A/n: Came up with this idea a couple days ago (literally right after my last post about having writer’s block), and just went to town on it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

If you wanna be tagged when I post ask or comment telling me so!

All photos found on Pinterest

You remember your childhood vividly, it wasn’t ‘bad’ for the most of it. Church was a constant play in the workings of your family home. Your mother a youth worker within the church (your church didn’t actually allow her to hold ‘pastor’ as her term), your father an old choir boy, now working a normal 9-5 job in an office building. Your family attended church every Wednesday and Sunday, every Easter, thanksgiving, and Christmas. There was no alcohol allowed in your house, not even during the holidays.

You have two older brothers, both of them were closer in age, only five years apart, while you were ten years apart from the youngest of the two, so you grew up practically on your own. You were raised primarily by your older parents, bother already reaching their 40’s when you were born.

Your oldest brother, Logan, once said in a fit of anger that you were an accident. You didn’t understand at the time, but now that you’re older, you get it.

You’ll never forget that one fated day you sat in your room, you had just turned thirteen a few weeks before. Sarah, your friend from church, someone you’ve known since you were infants, sat across from you. You were making friendship bracelets.

There was something about Sarah, she was just so… so pretty. Her long blond hair always perfectly curled, her gorgeous green eyes you could swear you could stare into for hours.

Elijah, your other friend, a boy from school, had told you that you shouldn’t act on any of your feelings for Sarah. His daddy had told him it was wrong to feel that way, to feel… attracted… to the same gender. But you couldn’t help it.

You had spent many nights sleeping over at Sarah’s and her at yours. As children you would hold hands on the playground. Your parents thought it was cute how close you two were. But as you sat in front of her that day, that beautiful day. The sun setting outside, the shades of purples and blues mixing with the warm orange, of the last golden rays highlighting her hair perfectly. You couldn’t help it.

You kissed her.

It happened so fast, you leaned over, capturing her lips with yours before pulling away. Your heart raced in your chest, beating faster, and faster, and faster. Her beautiful green eyes widened, her expression of shock was even pretty. Did she feel this way too? Did you act to fast? Before you could say anything to her, she quickly stood and ran out of the room. You heard her yell out for your mom as her foot steps made it down the stairs.

Oh no. Oh no no no no!

Your hand slapped against your chest, your heart not slowing as you began to panic. You read it all wrong, all wrong!

It’s all gone wrong. Elijah was right. I should have kept quiet. Held back.

Maybe I can play it off?

Your mother came barging into your room as you picked back up the bracelet quickly. “Hi, Momma!” You gave her a smile. It was so fake, but you just beg the lord she won’t notice. “Dewdrop,” your mother’s voice that day was stern, “did you-“ she cuts herself off, taking a deep breath, as if trying to calm her emotions, “Did you… kiss… Sarah…?”

Your brain had scattered, terrified how she was gonna react. You took too long.

She had snatched you off the rug before you could even say anything else, dragging you by your ear and down the stairs. Her hand raised before you before you could react.

Smack!

It been years since that day, as you now sit at your desk in your room, the pink floral wallpaper from your childhood always and forever familiar.

Tap! Tap!

You look over at your window, your eyes widening as you spot the long curly mop of hair even through the darkness outside. Quickly making your way to your window, opening the pane carefully, your heart racing as you are greeted by the softest, most comforting brown eyes you ever did see. “Eddie!” You whisper yell at him, your voice filled with concern and worry, “what are you doing here? You know my parents can’t see you!”

Eddie is all smiles, his eyes glancing down to your lips, “So? I thought you liked the chance of getting caught?” You roll your eyes, happy you are allowed to lock your door now that you’re older. “So…” he grips his hand tighter on the windowsill, “gonna let your boyfriend in? Or?” You immediately step back, muttering a sorry as you help him throw himself into your room without knocking anything over.

After straightening out his leather jacket and denim vest, he steps closer to you, reaching out and gripping at your nightgown, balling the fabric into his fists. “How’s my beautiful girlfriend?” You can’t help but smile at him, “I’m ok,” your hands slowly move up his chest, your eyes watching your fingers cling at his leather jacket, “how about you, Romeo?” He smiles, leaning in and giving your rosy cheek a peck, “I’ve been good, bored though.” “Oh?” “Mhmm,” His lips pressed soft kisses against your skin, getting closer and closer to your lips, before stopping. “You fucking tease…” you pout, gripping a little tighter at his jacket, making him chuckle. “Oh I’m sorry, did my good girl just swear? In her family home?” “Shut up.”

He pulls away and drops down onto your bed, spreading out across your powder blue duvet. “Come here,” he gestures for you to come lay with him, but you do something he doesn’t entirely expect.

You lift your nightgown, giving him the smallest glimpse of your white panties, the little blue bow on the front catching his eyes’ attention, before climbing over his legs. Your legs sit on either side of his hips, your center lowering just on top of his crotch, making him let out a soft groan. “Happy?” You ask, grinding your hips down and he grips at them quickly, steadying you. “Fucking swear, if you keep doing that-“ “What? You’ll do what, Munson?” Your voice is sugar sweet, faking innocence so well.

“Fuck, gonna make me cream my pants, Angel.” He sits up, adjusting his position so his hands are down on the bed behind him, propping him up. “Oh? Am I too much for you- Ah!” You gasp, cutting your sentence short as you’re flipped over, quickly looking at the door before back up at the guy on top of you. Eddie smirks down at you, his eyes glancing down at your lips. “Never,” he kisses you quickly, “ever,” another kiss, “think you’re too much for me.” He kisses your nose this time, before nuzzling it with his own.

He softly kisses you again, his lips pressing gently to yours, but slowly he picks up, kissing a little more desperately. His lips are slightly chapped, scratching a bit against your perfectly smooth lips. Your heart picks up, breath becoming more unsteady with every smooch. His hands guide down to your hips, pulling your nightgown up and to your waist, making your panties entirely visible. He pulls away, tilting his head down to the view he so desperately loves. “Could stare at you all day, Angel.” He gives you one final kiss before beginning to kiss down your neck. His fingers curl around the hem of your underwear, pulling them down slowly as his kisses travel down your clothed chest and bare stomach.

“All mine,” he hums into your skin, “all for me.” He pulls your underwear past your knees, gripping one of your thighs and pulling your shin and foot through the leg hole. “Gonna kill me one day,” he kisses along your lifted thigh. You feel yourself getting wet from his touch, his kisses sending shivers down your spine. He pulls your panties off your other leg, looking back up at your eyes before pocketing the white pair. “Mine now.” You can’t help but giggle at him, not able to count just how many crusty pairs you’ve gotten back weeks later.

His fingers move to your stomach, his palms kneading into your chubby belly like a ball of dough, before moving lower. A soft gasp leaves your lips, sounding like the most beautiful melody Eddie has ever heard as his fingers slip inside you.

Eddie swears he could watch you take his fingers all day. The way your eyebrows scrunch up, your eyes go blown, your thighs try to press together.

He leans down, brushing his nose against your clit. He watches his fingers thrust in and out of you from such close proximity, before licking your folds. Your hand quickly flies up to cover your mouth as you moan, trying to keep quiet with your parents just down the hall.

“E-Eds…!” You gasp, his free hand pressing your legs farther apart, his hips now rutting into your mattress as he buries his face in your cunt, lapping up your arousal. You let out a soft whimper as your toes curl, your hips now lifting off the bed to push into his face. Eddie removes his fingers from you, now gripping under your thighs and around to your hips, pulling your body into his face more. Your thighs squeeze around his head as you feel yourself release, gripping the duvet under you. Your eyes blur over with a few tears from the feeling, still not entirely used to being pushed to this amount of euphoria.

Your legs softly get set on the bed, a wet spot under you as Eddie climbs back up, placing a soft kiss on your stomach before smiling down at you. “Angel,” he reaches up and cups your face, tilting it to look at him, “You still with me?” It came out with a soft laugh, teasing. “Yeah,” you breathe out, breathe still heavy as you come down from the high, “Yeah, I’m here.” He smiles and pulls your nightgown back down, his obvious erection still poking at your thigh.

You sit up, glancing back at your door before turning back to your secret boyfriend. “Sweetheart,” his voice draw you back in, his fingers wrapping around your chin and pulling you against his chest as he leans back against your pillows, “don’t worry so much, you keep glancing at the door like they hear us.” He kisses your cheek, nuzzling into you. You blush as the only thing you can smell is you. “Eddie,” you quietly groan out his name, practically a whisper. He hums, fumbling with the belt to undo it. You blush as he shimmies his pants and boxers down his hips. You tilt your head to the wall, your blush spreading to your ears.

“Angel,” Eddie places his hands on your back, “look at me.” You pull back and look at him, your heart beating fast.

“You can tell me if you want to stop, Sweetheart. You know that.” He kisses your nose, his fingers slowly moving to ball your nightgown up, letting his warm fingers press to your now bare back. “Do you want to stop?” His voice is calm, no judgment present anywhere. “No… I-I wanna…” your eyes glance at your mirror, giving you sight of your door. Eddie’s eyes soften.

“Angel, you were being all confident earlier, now you’re shrinking and keep looking to make sure your door is shut.” He kisses your nose, making you melt a little into him. He hesitates for a moment, “is it… because of back then…?” You freeze, immediately your head snaps to look at him, his deep brown eyes staring at you with such love.

“Do you wanna sneak out…?” You ask, trying to dodge the reality of your trauma. Eddie’s eyes narrow, “Oh no, you’re talking about it now. You have no choice.” “What? No!” You whisper yell. “Angel,” Eddie pushes you off of him a little, making your eyes widen, the fear of rejection again banging on your heart. He pulls up his pants again, before pulling you back onto him, immediately shushing those thoughts, “Talk to me.”

“I just-“ you hesitate, you let out a deep breath, “I’m scared…” Eddie’s eyes soften, his hands sliding down to your hips, grounding you. “What of?” “Here.” The word comes out tense, your discomfort obvious, but not from him or his actions, just the place. Your room. Your house.

“Baby,” Eddie rubs his thumb over your hip, “We can pick this up tomorrow, we don’t have to-“ “No!” You immediately wince and cover your mouth at your raised voice. “I-I mean…”

A thud comes from across the house. You both freeze.

Shit.

You both scurry to get up, you pulling down your nightgown as he quickly goes to hide in your closet behind your door. You quickly shut your window, unlock your door, and sit at your desk, immediately jumping back up from the cold feeling on your —you shockingly forgot— exposed lower body. You don’t have time to grab another pair of panties so you just tuck your night gown under you and sit.

A knock comes on your door immediately after you sit. “Yes?” You call out. The door opens and your mother pops her head in, “Did you make a loud noise?” You just nod.

“Yeah sorry, I, uh, messed up my paper. Did I wake you?” She hums in response, “technically, but it’s alright. It’s almost midnight, Darling—” the nickname makes you cringe. It’s the same one she called you that day. “— make sure you get some sleep.” She smiles at you, before shutting your door and you hear steps heading back down the hall. You finally let out the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

Eddie sticks his head out, making sure the coast is clear before stepping out. “That was terrifying.” “Yeah no shit, Eds.” You tell him as he steps closer to you, he places his hand on your head and leans down a bit to kiss your hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” You look up at him, “but-!” “No buts, Angel. You’re too stressed here, I’m gonna sneak you out of class tomorrow and take you somewhere more private. Then we can finish what we started.” He lets you lay your head onto his stomach for a moment.

“Fine…” you hate that he’s right. Your room hasn’t been a ‘safe space’ since you were thirteen. He gives your head one more kiss before climbing back out your window.

You and Eddie run out of the school, hand in hand, adrenaline pumping through you as you both book it to his van. It was only 12:35pm, luckily for both of you, your lunch had just started, so it was easy to walk out of ‘class’, class being the cafeteria with an annoyed teacher by the doors who doesn’t care that you leave.

You both slip into his van, giggling as you pull out one of the cassettes from his glove compartment and pop it in, Metallica immediately filling the van. “So, I was thinking, food first, maybe milkshakes at Benny’s, then maybe park somewhere?” Eddie pulls the car out of the spot in the lot. “Sounds good to me.”

You pull up to Benny’s, immediately seeing the girl you’ve had a solid crush on for two years was working. “Eds, it’s her!” You practically slap your hand over his chest. “Holly shit- uh, do I look ok? Cute?” “Always.” Eddie’s smile was genuine, but you glare at him slightly, “I don’t want ‘always’ I need an opinion!” Eddie chuckles as he watches you step out of his car, straightening your dress. “Sweetheart, I feel like she’s not gonna care-“ “Shh, don’t ruin it.”

You both step into the diner, Eddie holding the door open for you. “Take a seat anywhere!” Her voice calls out. You both take a booth by the window, Eddie giving you the side that best angles you to always be able to see her. “You’re always so supportive and I love you for it.” He smiles at your admission. “Can’t do anything without my permission, Angel.” “I know.”

“Hi, I’m Chris, I’ll be your server,” the girl you practically drool over pulls out a pen and her serving note pad, “What can I get you both?” She asks, glancing at you first before Eddie. Eddie watches you, your eyes practically glittering and he tries not to laugh. “A double cheeseburger for me, please. No onions. Sparkle over there will have a short stake of chocolate chip pancakes, two scrambled eggs with cheese and a bowl of grits, butter and cheese in that too.” The girl, Chris, smiles at him, impressed he knows the girl across from him—you—so well. “And to drink?” She just looks to Eddie this time, “Two chocolate milkshakes, and two waters. She’ll also have a cup of coffee, vanilla creamer.”

You snap out of your gaze after she begins to walk away, “Wait, what? What happened?” “You spaced.” “What!?” You look over at him, “It’s ok, Angel, I ordered for you.” You give him a soft smile. “Oh yeah? What did you order me?” “You’ll see.”

When the food arrives to the table you practically have your mouth watering on the table at the array of food, especially thankful for the cup of coffee. “I love you, you take such good care of me.” You pretend to wipe a tear from your eye. “Hmm.”

As you both eat, Eddie randomly slaps his hand down on the table, then excessively taps it, not loud enough to grab the attention of others, just you. “Oh my-“ you look up at him and see he’s looking towards the door. You turn and see a young man walking in, his long hair and attire very similar to the boy sitting across from you. “Eddie, sweetie, you’re gay is showing.” You hold your straw as you take a sip of your shake, staring at your boyfriend. “Says the girl who drools over the waitress.” Eddie shoots back. You place your hand over your heart, “you wound me, Eds.”

“Is he cute? He’s cute. Shit.” Eddie’s cheeks suddenly turn red, making you laugh. “Now who’s drooling-” “I’m not drooling…!” Eddie blushes.

When you both finish your food, you get back in his van and he drives to a secluded spot, parking behind an abandoned shopping center that no one even drives by anymore. You sit there for a moment thinking about how to initiate, before your boyfriend quickly pulls himself through the seats and into the trunk of his van.

Eddie adjusts the blankets and pillows he shoved back there earlier that morning, watching as you squeeze yourself through the seats following him. He pulls you straight onto his lap, lifting your dress up so your thighs are exposed to his hands. “I love you,” his voice is soft, pulling you in and making you swoon. “I love you more,” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaving soft kisses on his lips before moving down his jaw and neck.

Eddie’s fingers grip tighter on your thighs, nails digging into the soft skin. You exhale a soft sigh. “You’re so fucking perfect,” Eddie speaks first, grinding your hips down on his crotch, “Want you so bad, been thinking about it all day.” You giggle softly, nuzzling your nose into his cheek as you enjoy the feeling of his growing tent in his pants.

“Yeah?” You ask, nibbling at his earlobe before pulling away. He groans, annoyed you stopped but glides his hands up under your dress. “I love that you wear dresses, I don’t care if it’s technically for your mom, it gives me the perfect access to you,” his hands massage the fat on your sides, digging his thumbs in your skin, “should take it off though, don’t wanna get it dirty.”

You grip the hem of your dress and pull it over your head, your bra now visible to him. He lifts his hands up your skin and cup his fingers around the garment. You look into his eyes as you watch him continue to stare at your body, his pupils blown, making his comforting brown eyes look black. You grab his vest and jacket and help him slide it off his arms, throwing them both to the side. He yanks off the Hellfire shirt before smashing his lips onto yours, kissing you with such passion.

He pulls back, shimmying down his pants while you quickly pull off your underwear. Before the fabric is even entirely off your legs, you’re pulled back onto his lap, your back facing him this time, you look down and immediately blush. His cock is perfectly placed between your thighs, the red tip sticking out and tapping against your stomach with every twitch. “E-Eddie,” you reach back and cup his head from behind you as he grips tightly at your hips, grinding you against his length, his shaft rubbing against your clit.

“Wanna grab us a condom from behind my seat?” He asks. You nod, pulling away from him and reaching down. Eddie swears he would do it raw if he could confirm you wouldn’t get pregnant, but your parents would never allow you on birth control. You grab one of the foils and climb back up against him, opening your legs so his cock is accessible and rolling the condom down. “Relax, Angel, I’ve got you,” he kisses your cheek before lifting your hips, his cock practically jumping to press against you.

You gasp as you’re slowly pulled down, your cunt sheathing his cock without much resistance. Before long, your ass presses back on his crotch, his length fully in you. “You ok?” He asks, hearing your breath picking up. You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. He reaches up and tilts your head back to him, making you look at him, “use your words, Baby.” “I’m ok.”

Before too long your feet are planted against the bed of his van, your hips moving up and down, up and down, as you bounce yourself on him. His hands grip tightly at your waist, his soft groans giving you praise as you try not to just cum on him. “Baby,” his voice pulls you back in, making you whimper. He lifts you off of him, before turning you back around, making you straddle his lap again before going back down. His hands move down your thighs, until one slopes just below your belly, his thumb finding your clit. You crumble at the sudden addition, your head falling to his shoulder.

Eddie loves watching his little Angel crumble because of him. Watching your body shake as your thighs clench, your hands balling into fists on his chest as you try your damn best not to explode, not wanting him to stop. “Come on, Angel,” he whispers into your ear, leaving small kitten licks over your lobe, “cum for me, Baby, need to feel you cum.”

His lips press to the corner of your mouth, “Come on, Baby girl, wanna feel you, need to feel you cum.” His fingers rub harder into your clit, making you moan. Before long you’re gasping as you cry, your boyfriend thrusting up into you as your body shakes. Eddie kisses your cheeks, nose and forehead as your thighs squeeze at his hips, your body releasing around him. “There we go, such a good girl, doing so good for me, Angel,” Eddie kisses your lips as you feel his thighs getting sticky from your arousal.

He shuffles, slowly and carefully laying you back in the bed of the van, onto a blanket with a couple pillows behind your head. He doesn’t leave you, careful to not disconnect your bodies. He climbs over you, pushing your legs out and around his waist. He kisses your hairline, slowly beginning to thrust into you. Your whimpers and moans fill the air around you, his hips moving slow at first before picking up pace.

You brush his hair away from his face before pulling him closer and kissing him, your lips moving in perfect sync. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as he goes a little harder.

It doesn’t take long till you cum again, this time he fucks you through it even harder, not stopping or slowing. His groans sound so hypnotic, like a praise leaving his lips without actual words. He thrusts one final time, holding his hips hard against yours as you feel his cock twitch inside you, his face scrunching as he finishes into the condom.

Eddie drops down, his lips pressing to yours repeatedly, before pulling out. Your legs shakily drop to the floorboard, cunt clenching around nothing as you try to come down from your high. He pulls off the condom, ties it off before dropping it between the seats. He pulls up his jeans and boxers before slipping your underwear back up your legs. “You did such a good job, Angel,” Eddie kisses your eyelids, before leaving a soft kiss on your lips, “I’m so proud of you.”

You can’t stop yourself from blushing as he pulls you onto his chest, laying down with you in the blankets. He snuggles into your hair, kissing your head as you smile from his kisses. “You enjoy this too much,” you enquire, giggling a little when he kisses your nose. “I do, but it’s not my fault my girl is so beautiful when she’s coming down from an orgasm.” You roll your eyes, but not in an annoyed way, you enjoy his teasing.

You don’t know what got into you as you climb down the lattice outside your window. You were never a disobedient child growing up, but for some reason you still climb down one foot after the other, time reaching 8pm as you hit the ground.

You turn to see your beautiful curly haired boyfriend grinning ear to ear at you. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this. I’m a bad influence on you.” You glare at him but don’t deny it, cause he is. “I didn’t know what to wear, so I hope you brought something for me to change into.”

Eddie smirks as he grabs your hand, pulling you down the street and to his parked van. He opens the back, showing the few t-shirts he brought from his closet. “Pick one. Any one.” He smiles at you. You grab one of them climbing into the back before he shuts the doors behind you.

You quickly pull off your frilly floral shirt, chunking it to the side of the van, before slipping the Metallica shirt over your head. It’s a little snug, but you don’t hate it. You quickly pull your hair up in a ponytail with the red scrunchy on your wrist.

Climbing to the front, Eddie already half way there to the bar, you sit yourself in the passenger seat, quickly pulling a lipstick you stuck in your pocket and pulling down the visor to see your reflection. You apply the red lipstick, a much deeper color than you usually wear.

Eddie glances over, watching you apply the makeup. He had to be careful with staring, picturing those now perfectly red lips smothering his cock with kisses, leaving lipstick all over his shaft-

“Eddie?” You call out to him, and he looks at you again for a quick second. “Yeah?” “I just remembered I’ve never met the guys.”

It’s true, you’ve been dating for maybe 6 months, but it’s entirely secret to people you both know personally. Eddie had asked you to come to the show tonight because he wants you to meet them. The guys: Gareth, Jeff, and Kevin. He wants you to attend Hellfire meetings, meet Dustin, the kid he practically took under his wing, have you attend his shows, meet his uncle. He doesn’t want you to be a secret anymore to his side of life.

“Then you’ll get to meet them.”

Eddie and you pull up to The Hideout Tuesday night. You’re nervous pick up as he parks the van. “Hey,” Eddie reaches over and grabs your hand, “I appreciate you wanna see me play, Angel. But if you’re uncomfortable, I can take you home.” You shake your head.

You’ve been looking forward to watching him play live for months, and nows your chance. Besides, he’s already snuck you out of your house, you might as well enjoy it.

Eddie opens the car door for you, helping you out of your seat before holding your hand as you walk inside through the back entrance.

You hear laughing and talking coming from around the corner, and before long you’re dragged into a room with three boys you recognize from classes. “Hey, guys.” Eddie greets them. They all turn to you both, the messy haired blond tilting his head first. “Who’s that?” He asks. Eddie looks at you, and you look at him, your eyes more nervous than his but his soft eyes comfort you.

“Angel,” he simply says. The guys stay silent for a moment, before gasping and running up closer. “Holly shit!” You know this one, Jeff from Chemistry, practically screams as he reaches for your hand, “You’re like a whole myth at our lunch table!” You blush as it dawns in you.

He talks about you. Eddie talks about you to his friends, he might not have told them who you were until this very moment, but god damnit, he talks about you.

“Eddie can’t shut up about his ‘Sweet Angel’ practically fawning over you every lunch period.” The blond follows. “Refuses to clean his shirt of lipgloss or lipstick before school just so we’ll ask about it. Fucking bastard.” The bigger guy slaps Eddie over the head.

“Hey, it’s not my fault, I mean look at her. Can you blame me?” Eddie is practically glowing, his smile bigger than you’ve even seen it, and that’s saying something. “Wait,” Jeff looks at you for a minute, squinting his eyes. “Chemistry right? You sit towards the front?” You nod, “yeah, Jeff right?” You smile at him. “Yeah, shit, almost didn’t recognize you. Not in your usual floral dresses tonight.” “Yeah, kinda not supposed to be out past 7,” you explain easily. “Your family goes to Franklin Baptist right?” You nod.

“Damn got yourself a religious girl, Eddie?” The blond snickers to himself. You glance up at Eddie before looking back at him. Jeff speaks before you can, “The asshole is Gareth, that’s Kevin.” He points to them respectively. “Nice to meet you, and no. I’m uh, actually atheist. Just… raised Christian.” You hold your hands together in front of you.

“Hey,” a guy pops his head in from a door heading out to the bar, “on in five.” He dips out before anyone replies. “Well,” Eddie turns to you and takes your hand holding it up to his lips, “how about you go out there and sit by the bar? Get some water or something, watch us play.” His lips press a soft kiss to your knuckles making you blush, “ok.”

You sit on one of the stools by the bar, a glass of water in hand as the announcer introduces the next band. “And up next to the stage is Corroded Coffin!” A couple people yell out, raising their glasses up in the air, but not too many.

Then they all step out, the cute guy you know so well with his guitar on his front, stepping up to the front mic with such grace. “How are we all doing tonight?” His voice booms through the room and a few people again holler out, “We are Corroded Coffin, and to start the night off good, Id like to dedicate this first song to the lovely girl in the Metallica shirt by the bar. Lookin’ good, Angel!” He gestures to Jeff who immediately starts his rhythm on the guitar, Gareth following soon after on drums.

Oh my.

“Mmm, yeah!” Eddie jumps in before letting them play a bit longer. Kevin joining in with his guitar.

No he’s not.

Then they all begin it. “Ha!” Eddie continues, and the guys follow with “Do do do dodo dodo do do, do do do dodo dodo!” They repeat it a couple times before Eddie jumps back in. “Tonight… I wanna give it all to you!”

Oh no he IS.

You feel your cheeks heat up, instantly closing your eyes as you try not to giggle. “In the daaarkness… there’s so much I want to do-o-o,” both Jeff and Gareth lean into their mics “And tonight,” all three of them sing before Eddie continues on his own, “I wanna lay it at your feet,” he points directly at you, stopping his own playing to continue with the next lyric, “‘cause, Girl, I was made for you, and girl, you were made for me!” Eddie can’t help his grin, watching you trying to not die from embarrassment in the corner, “Hit it!” He yells before all the guys jump in to continue the song.

“I was made for lovin’ you, Baby! You were made for loving me! And I can’t get enough of you, Baby! Can you get enough of me?”

You cover your face but peek out through your fingers as you watch them finish the rest of the song. You have to sit through the rest of the set, trying not to giggle to yourself after the choice of an opener.

When Eddie finally meets back up with you, nearly two hours later, you glare at him through your third glass of water, “I hate you.” Eddie chuckles before throwing his arm over your shoulders, kissing your forehead, “no you don’t. You love me.”

You take a deep breath, trying to make the redness in your face go away, still not over the first song of the show. “How long,” you look up at him, sitting your glass down on the counter, “have you had that planned?” “Uh,” Eddie looks over at the backstage door before turning back to you, “couple months.” His cheeks tint, obviously embarrassed by the admission. “Eds, I told you I wanted to come to the show three days ago,” you smile at him, “and I know damn well that’s not in your original set, I’ve seen the original set list, Eddie.” You can’t help the goofy grin that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

“Might have convinced the guys the day you told me to knock out the original opener to fit the one we practiced for you…” he admits. You laugh, a solid hearty laugh, not a giggle, not a chuckle, a full on laugh. A snort finds its way in, catching you off guard. Eddie joins in immediately after it happens, covering his mouth as he tries not to do the same.

You both laugh for a good minute, just cackling to yourselves as you try to calm down. When you finally catch your breath, you speak up first, “Those poor boys, you just tortured them for the last couple of days.” He nods, his hand on your arm as he holds his stomach, “yeah, they hated me the last few days.”

You didn’t stick around too long, not wanting to test your luck with your parents and your empty bedroom. You both walk out of the bar, his arm over your shoulder, both of you giggling as you press your hand into his chest.

“(Y/n)?” A deep voice makes you freeze. Your heart stopping as you refuse to look up. “(Y/n)?” Eddie looks over at the speaker, a man who looks so similar to you, but he’s older, at least 10 years. “Can I help you?” Eddie asks, his hand gripping tighter on your shoulder. You look up and there he is.

It’s happening again.

“Yeah, you can let go of my little sister, creep.” Logan, your oldest brother, glares at Eddie, his eyes sharp and narrow. Eddie slowly lifts his hand from your shoulder, obviously just not wanting to anger the guy who’s nearly twice his size. You sigh, “Logan, he’s fine.” You place your arms over your chest, gripping your arms tightly. Logan looks at you then back at Eddie, “why are you with this guy? Who is he?” Logan steps closer, still on edge.

You take a deep breath. Here we go.

“His name is Eddie,” you tell him, looking up at him, “he’s not a creep, he’s my boyfriend, Logan.” Logan hesitates for a moment, “boyfriend? Since when did you get a boyfriend? Mom and dad know?” He scoffs when you stay silent, “take that as a no,” he looks at Eddie, glancing over his form, his clothes, hair. He’s judging him.

“So what do you do? Besides take my underaged sister to a bar.” You roll your eyes at his question. “His band plays here every week. We didn’t drink, I had a couple glasses of water, Logan.” You glare at him, getting pissed off. Logan hums in response, looking Eddie up and down, “glad you are actually dating a guy,” he speaks, “mom’s gonna be pissed he’s not from church though.”

You think for a moment, then raise a brow, “Why are you here?” Logan hesitates but you speak again before he can reply, “It’s a bar, Logan, if you thought I was drinking but I’m underaged, what am I supposed to think about you? A guy of thirty-three, past the legal drinking age? What is mom gonna think about that?”

You don’t know what got into you. Maybe it was the way your boyfriend was will to embarrass you in front of a decent crowd, maybe how he talked about you to his friends even though your relationship was supposed to be secret. Maybe it’s how he didn’t falter in front of his friends, kept staying near you and showing you love and affection. Maybe it was just… Eddie.

You glance over at the brunette standing next to you, noticing how his eyes never leave your brother, nervous. Sweet Eddie. “Go tell mom.” You suddenly say, Logan looks at you a little shocked. “She was gonna have to find out eventually, at least now I can tell her that her perfect oldest son drinks. She might actually worry about you more than me.”

“Hmm,” Logan hums before continuing to make his way towards the door, stopping right next to you, “you go down, I go down too? I’ll hold you to that.” He makes his way into the bar.

You both drive back to your street with no further problems. Eddie parks his van a street down, turning off the headlights to not get any attention drawn to you both.

“So…” Eddie mumbles out, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, “That was interesting.” You scoff lightly, leaning your head back on the headrest. “I swear, if he rats me out, he’s done for.” Your voice sounds more joking than anything, but you aren’t. “Mom hates alcohol that much?” He chuckles a bit, leaning back against his own seat and looking over at you, a small smile on his lips. “Oh completely. My parents are Baptist, Eds, alcohol is a sin to them, they refuse to even have it in the house.” “Didn’t Jesus like… turn water into wine?” You shrug, “who knows why, I’ve questioned that my entire life.”

“Logan is the oldest, right?” You nod, “yep, fifteen years older than me,” you look over and smile at him. “You mentioned once you didn’t know your brothers that well growing up,” Eddie reaches over and grabs your hand. You take a deep sigh, “yeah, since I was born when Logan was fifteen, Noah, my other brother,” you give his hand a squeeze, “the middle kid, was ten. I was an accident, not planned.”

He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, listening to you. “You know how Christians are, against abortion and all. I was closest to Noah growing up, but even that felt more like a babysitter, not a brother. Logan acts like my brother now that I’m older, but when we were kids, he was just…” you stop, raising his hand up to your lips, placing a soft kiss on his fingers. Eddie moves his hand, letting it cup around your face.

“Angel,” Eddie calls out to you, making you look at him, “It’s gonna be ok.” He gives you a soft smile, which you return. “I love you.” The words slip out of your lips naturally, little butterflies in your stomach.

You don’t know why. You’ve said those words to each other hundreds of time already, but for some reason it feels… different. It’s not just a quick phrase, a sentimental thing you say to make you and him feel good. You mean it. With all of your heart. You love him.

Eddie’s smile grows a bit bigger, “I love you.” His beautiful chocolate brown eyes gaze at you with such love you feel it. You know he means it with everything he has. You could stare at those eyes all day, hopefully one day you can.

In the morning, you sit with your family at breakfast. Your mother plates everyone food, which you help her set the table. “Oh, darling, set up a fourth setting,” your mother instructs you, “Logan is going to be here any minute.” “What?” You turn quickly to her, a tinge of discomfort in your stomach. “Logan. He’s going to be joining-“ The door bell rings.

Oh shit.

“I’ve got it!” Your father gets up and goes to answer the door, “Logan, good to see you, son!” Your oldest brother steps inside the house, hugging your father. “Hey, Pops,” Logan departs from the front door, entering the dinning space, where you stand and your mother brings out some plates and sits them down on the table. “Logan!” Your mother smiles, quickly pulling her oldest child into a hug.

“Hey, Momma, thanks for having me such short notice,” he smiles, parting from her before turning to you, “Hey, (y/n).” He holds out his arms, and you hesitate before hugging him. You don’t want to tip off your mom.

After everyone has a plate at their seat and the table is decorated in platters of pancakes, eggs, grits, and so much more, Momma really went all out, you all take your seats. “So, Logan dear,” your mom smiles at her pride and joy of a child, “we heard about Susan from Cindy at church. Why didn’t you tell us?” You look between your mother and brother, a little confused.

You know Susan, that’s Logan’s wife. You met her a couple times, a little grossed out because she is 23, closer to your age than to Logan’s. You know Cindy to be a gossip at church, her spreading the ‘rumor’— as your mother referred to it—of you kissing Sarah all those years ago.

“What happened with Susan?” You ask, making your mother to turn to you. “She was found sneaking around with Gabriel a couple months ago, apparently the affair has been going on for a year. Your brother here,” she points to Logan, “requested an annulment for the marriage with the state and church because of the adultery.” You can tell from her raising voice she’s furious about the whole affair.

“It was approved last week.” Logan informs you all, “She signed the papers only a couple days ago, no arguments made. I’m letting her keep the house, so I’m gonna get an apartment close by, so thought I’d come visit for a couple days while looking.” Your mother practically gasps with glee at the news, “So you’re gonna be closer to home? How wonderful!”

That’s the last thing you need, another set of eyes out in public watching out for you.

“Isn’t… divorce a sin…?” You ask, not trying to incriminate your brother, not at all, just genuinely confused as to why your mother would allow it, or even be happy about it. “Technically,” your father speaks, your mother finishing for him, “But only without proper cause. That whores affair is proper enough.” You nearly chock on your juice as your mother’s phrasing.

“Momma!” You yell at her, staring at her utterly shocked, “You can’t just-“ “Why not? She cheated on my baby with someone inside the church!” Your father just nods along. You look over at Logan, he’s nearly just as shocked as you are.

“You shouldn’t call her that, Momma,” Logan takes a sip from his coffee, recovering from the display, “She was still my wife.” Your mother looks a little hurt from his intervention, sagging back into her chair as if she’s a toddler being told they have to eat their veggies.

“Your mother is allowed to be upset, Logan,” your father speaks out, looking up at your brother, “just like (y/n) can speak her mind, and you can speak yours.”

Such bullshit. Your opinions never mattered growing up, do they suddenly now because you’re older?

“I need to head out to school,” you explain, standing up and taking your plate. You clean off the dish in the sink, before walking by the table again, hugging your mother and kissing your father’s cheek. “I’ll see you later today.”

The next few days are uneventful, just back and forth with school, your mother bickering you about your future, and your perfect brother hogging the bathroom. Until Saturday.

You sit in your room, changing out of your day clothes and grabbing the nightgown from the basket of clean clothes. The warm air from the weather comes in through your open window, perfectly creating that warmer atmosphere.

“I’d say keep it off.” You jump back from the sudden words spoken out, your eyes immediately darting to the window where your metal head dork of a boyfriend sits halfway in. “You scared me, Eddie…!” You whisper, “you shouldn’t be here, everyone is probably still awake.” He just shrugs at your warning.

“So who’s the car outside? It’s not your dad’s and your mom doesn’t have one herself,” he asks, moving in closer to you, pulling your nightgown from your hands and pulling you to him, your bare chest pressing to his t-shirt. “It’s Logan’s, you dingbat. And if he sees you here he might not be so keen on keeping you a secret.”

“Eh, I’ll be out before anyone notices. Though I should really teach you a thing of two about actual creeps,” he kisses your cheek, his hands pressing to your back, “maybe then you’ll learn to shut your window when you’re changing.” You roll your eyes, “you’re a jerk, Munson.” He chuckles, pushing you back onto your bed, immediately pushing at your knees to frame your legs around his waist, laying into you. “A jerk? Me?” He kisses you softly before traveling little kisses down your neck, “A tease maybe, but never a jerk, Angel.”

Your breathing gets heavy as he moves down your chest, cupping one breast in his hand before taking the other into his mouth. “Eds,” you blush, gripping at his shoulders as his cold fingers graze over your nipple. “Hmm?” “My…” you can’t help but feel your panties start getting wet, “my brother is home, and my family is still awake- mm!” You bite your lower lip, muffling the soft moan that leaves you when his teeth bite down on your hard bud.

“You can be quiet,” Eddie smirks, pulling away from your torso, “Don’t you wanna be a good girl? Be quiet for me?” You hate how he knows that shit works.

He pushes your throw pillows off your bed, pulling back the covers. “Don’t be too loud or we’ll be found, ok?” He goes lower under the sheets, right where you want him, pulling your underwear down your legs. You cover your mouth as you feel his tongue glide across your core, his fingers brushing your folds out of the way. Two digits break your entrance, making you whimper as you grab his long curls with your free hand. “E-Eds…!” You try to be quiet, your body reacting quickly to his actions.

“Go on, let it out, Angel.” His approval sends you over the edge way too soon, your thighs squeezing his head as you finish, gasping for air. Eddie leaves little kitten licks before pulling away from you. “I’m proud of you,” he leans up and kisses your neck, the smell of you very prominent on his lips. “Oh?” You lean into his kisses, just letting him do as he pleases, “why is that?”

“You may have mentioned how people are home or they’re awake, but you haven’t looked at that door once, Angel.” He smiles down at you. And he’s right, you haven’t.

Sure you’ve mentioned worry, but there is no real fear this time. Your body is completely reacting only to Eddie, sweet Eddie. Your Eddie.

“I haven’t have I?” You smile back at him, not even looking now, even though it’s been pointed out to you, “Maybe you’re a bad influence.” Eddie smiles, placing a quick kiss to your lips before stripping himself down bare, fisting himself a little once finished. “Don’t know what you think you’re doing with that without-“

Eddie digs into his jacket pocket before throwing it down and pulls out a condom, holding it up to your face. “I come prepared, my lady, no need to worry.” You hum in response, watching him rip open and roll on the condom. Once it’s on, he quickly holds at your thighs, taking no time to slowly push himself deep into you.

“Not gonna lie, Angel,” he sighs as his cock bottoms out, “I’ve been looking forward to ducking you into your white sheets for months.” You blush as he starts to move, a soft moan leaving you as his hips roll into yours. “Could fuck this pussy all day, like a fucking drug,” he kisses your cheek. You bite your lip trying to not moan, but each thrust presses that perfect spot as he knows your body just all too well.

“Eddie…” you whimper out his name, your ankles crossing behind his back. His thrusts stay slow, sensual, easing you into it as the knot already forms in your stomach. He’s gonna be the death of you one day.

He lays his head on your shoulder, tilting it downward so he can watch the place your bodies intersect, watching his cock thrust in and out of you achingly slow. “Eddie, please,” you mutter out a beg, wanting him to pick up speed, to just put you out of your misery, but he doesn’t. “Not yet, baby girl,” he kisses you once, twice, three time before staring down at you, “gonna fuck you nice a slow, watch you get sensitive before letting you finally cum.”

He does this for a good thirty minutes, making you get testy as you cling to him, wanting him to just fuck you harder. “Eddie, please.” He picks up the pace, thrusting his hips into you a little harder. You gasp, the feeling sending you so close to your climax you have to fully concentrate to not finish. “Eds..!” You grip at his shoulders.

“Go on, Baby, cum for me.” You do, harder than you’ve ever before. Your eyes water, thighs clenching around his hips as you let out the most erotic sounds. After that it only takes him a few more thrusts before he’s whimpering out an orgasm of his own, hiding his face in your hair.

You stay like that for a moment, just both catching your breath. After a few minutes he pulls away, tying the condom and dropping it in the trash can under your desk. He slips back on his boxers before climbing back onto the bed, it shifts under his weight. You turn over to him as he lays next to you, pulling the covers over you both.

“I really enjoyed that.” You speak first, pulling the pillow under your head closer. Eddie smiles at you, his body fully turned in your direction, laying on his side. His hand lifts and pushes a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “Yeah?” To which you nod. “I did do,” he follows up.

You feel your cheeks heat up as you hide your face into the pillow, feeling butterflies flutter around in your stomach. “Like, I really liked that,” you hope the tone expresses what you mean. You didn’t just like it, you loved it.

Eddie can’t stop the corners of his mouth from lifting, watching you hide your face, your ears turning red from your flush. He leans over and places a soft kiss against your hair. “I really liked that, too,” he emphasizes the same word and you groan as you curl into your blankets more, making him chuckle.

“Angel,” his hand presses against your bare back, his warm fingers running up and down your bare skin. It’s not sexual, just soft, comforting, like home. “I love you, so fucking much,” his voice falters a bit, immediately gravitating your attention. You snap your head up, seeing his eyes looking so soft, so loving. It makes you wanna cry.

But you don’t, taking in a shaky breath as you shift closer to him, pressing your head against his chest. “I love you, Eddie Munson. So much.” You nuzzle your face into his skin, your hands making their way around his torso, pushing him to lay on his back with you on top of him. “You make me so happy,” you mumble, leaving a couple kisses against his bare chest.

Then your door opens. The creaking of the hinges the first thing you hear before it’s followed with “Darling, do you have-“ your mother’s head pops into the doorframe, your whole world crashing as she makes direct eye contact with you.

The door bursts open, the knob banging into the wall loudly, making you jump. “Momma!” You yell out, pulling the blankets up your shoulders. She does say anything, which is somehow scarier. She just stomps farther in, gripping her fists around your powder blue comforter before yanking it back. Thankfully, Eddie sees this about to happen before you do, and grips tighter at the sheets underneath to keep you just covered.

“What in the hell is this!?” Your mother’s voice booms out, your eyes shutting tight as you flinch at her loud voice. “Momma-“ “No. Don’t ‘Momma’ me! I knew we were being too easy with you! Honey!” She walks back out, stomping her feet angrily, calling out to your father, as she makes her way down the stairs.

You both scurry out of the bed, your heart racing, “no no no no!” You quickly snatch your underwear off the floor slipping them on and following with your nightgown, Eddie doing the same with his jeans and tee. “This is so bad, this is really bad…!” You follow after her as quickly as possible, Eddie following after you.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, booking it into the dining room where your mother is already telling your father, “Momma, please, just listen-!” You feel your eyes watering, genuinely terrified as to what will happen next. “You’re… tramp of a daughter had a boy-” Eddie enters the room and your mother gestures to him aggressively, as if his presence fuels her anger more, “this boy in her room! I found them entangled together!” Your mother looks absolutely mortified.

“Please just let me explain!” You quickly cut in, looking at your father with those little doe eyes you know he can’t deny. Your father sighs, glancing at your mother then back at you then his gaze shifts to behind you, at Eddie. “Explain.” Your mother scoffs at him, “There’s nothing to explain! He’s ruined her! I can’t have another scandal with this family! Logan is already dealing with his divorce!” Your mother’s voice shakes with rage, you can feel her blood boiling from where you stand, “What will the church think?”

Your father sighs. “Sweetheart,” his eyes set on you, the same ones that used to calm you as a child, “Who is this boy?” You hesitate but straighten up your posture, glad to be given the chance. “Daddy,” you reach other to Eddie and grab his arm, pulling him forward, “This is Eddie, he’s my boyfriend.” Your mother lets out a cold laugh at this, but says nothing.

Your father takes a deep breath but before he can speak, a voice draw the attention of everyone in the room. “Oh, hey, Eddie? Good to see you again, man.”

Logan steps into the room, walking straight up to Eddie, taking his hand in his own and shaking it. “I didn’t know you were meeting everyone tonight.” He looks over at you, obviously a little confused.

“I-“ Eddie goes to speak, but your mom interrupts him. “I found him in your sister’s room, Logan. In her bed!” Logan tries not to show any drastic emotions to this news, but you catch his eye twitch. “Ah, yeah I can see where you’d consider that a problem,” he rubs the back of his neck.

“You know this boy, son?” Your father asks, pointing to Eddie, but his eyes fixed on your brother. “Yeah,” Logan speaks, looking at you one more time before shifting his gaze to your nervous boyfriend, “met him a while ago, he’s a good kid.” He pats Eddie’s shoulder. “Found out he was dating (y/n) not too long ago. They make a cute couple don’t they?” He smiles at you.

Your father looks Eddie over, “You believe in God, boy?” “Yes, sir.” Eddie speaks up decently fast, not taking any chances, but you know damn well his belief is questionable. Then the older man looks back at you, his eyes physically softening.

Your father’s always had a sweet spot for you, getting defensive when your mother would beat you for stupid things. You’re his ‘god’s blessing,’ probably the only person in this house to feel that way. And that’s what made you favor him over your mother.

“Does he treat you right? Doesn’t hit you or anything?” You smile at him, “No, sir, he’s kind and sweet. Treats me well.” You keep it simple and straight to the point. He looks back over at Eddie before continuing, “Do you love ‘em?” “Ha!” Your mother laughs, “love him? Honey, she doesn’t know-” “Yes.” You cut her off, your arms squeezing tighter on Eddie’s, “love him with all my heart, Daddy.”

Your father sighs. “If Logan thinks he’s good enough I don’t see why we should have a problem with him.” Your mother squeaks, flabbergasted by your father’s words, “because he was in her bed? This is a Christian household! I will not let a teen pregnancy tarnish this family!” “You use condoms?” The question was directed at Eddie this time, making you both flush red. “Y-Yes, sir.” “Then that’s that.” Your father stands, coming over and patting Eddie on the shoulder, “nice to meet you, Eddie,” before walking out of the room, your mother chasing after him.

You, Eddie, and Logan all stand there for a moment, a little shook after the very direct question. Logan speaks first, turning to you both. “You two are fucking stupid.” He speaks through his teeth, but he’s not angry, he’s trying not to laugh, “my God, really? At home? Come on.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “I better get something from that talk, cause Jesus save me, that was awful.” “I’ll get you a free drink at the Hideout,” Eddie follows quietly, which you just look at him. “Deal. After that shit show, I’ll fucking need it, but that’s just your payment,” Logan turns to you, “you owe me, kid. Jesus, now you know why I drink.”

Tag list:

@cagethemunson @spikeybatt @cherrycolas-things

@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e

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e-dubbc11 · 3 months

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Two Heartbeats

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F! Reader

Warnings: Angst, tears, and fluff

Word Count: 1.7K-ish

Summary: Even though you’re not his to protect anymore, Matt still checks up on you every night. And after several weeks of nightly visits without your knowledge, he hears something that scares him and leaves him frozen in place. He needs to talk to you.

A/N: Now I haven’t written for Matt in a LONG time, I really hope it’s alright. I miss writing for him, inspiration just hasn’t hit me in awhile. Anyway, I don’t know what the deal is with not being able to answer certain asks from my inbox but this one was sent to me by my love @ittybxttykxttytxtty I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Shadows danced across the pavement as the nocturnal symphony of Hell’s Kitchen started to play. The ethereal glow from the moon passed through the gray clouds turning them white and then back to gray again.

Matt Murdock couldn’t see the shadows or the moon although he felt them both. The pull of the moon when it was full caused all the crazies to come out. The night whispered to him, telling him all of her secrets, telling him everyone’s secrets.

The dark shadows were caused by pedestrians as they walked by. As he stood perched on a rooftop above his world, he could hear when they stepped on a bottlecap, or swore under their breath because they stepped in freshly discarded gum.

A slight smirk tugged across his mouth when they did that, it amused him. With a subtle tilt of the head, he licked his lips, the cool nighttime air dried them out as he honed in on those sounds. Calls of distress were coming from all directions now.

But you were safe and that’s all that mattered. He always checked on you to make sure you were alright even if you weren’t his to protect anymore.

The black hood protected his identity as he protected his city. By day, he tried to protect Hell’s Kitchen the right way, the legal way. But at night, the Devil came out and the law went out the window.

The childhood accident that took Matt’s sight from him, heightened the rest of his senses which he used to his advantage. He used them to stop those cries for help he would hear in the middle of the night. The residents of Hell’s Kitchen deserved to feel safe in their homes and you were the resident that meant the most to him.

Outside your window, he would whisper to you. “I’m always here, sweetheart.” He loved you but never wanted you to know he was there. Matt knew you would be furious if you found out he was outside, listening to you because he had put you through enough; the secrets and the lies were what you couldn’t handle. It wasn’t the cuts, bruises or stitches. All you had wanted was the truth and he couldn’t give it to you so you left.

Matt could sense something was off, your hormone level maybe? He wasn’t quite sure. It would explain why you were absolutely furious and acting a little irrational.

And after 6 weeks of nightly visits, he heard something coming from your apartment that stopped him dead in his tracks. His own heart rate increased and his rapid inhales and exhales of his breathing almost became uncontrollable.

The Devil heard TWO heartbeats…and they were both coming from you.

Clinging to the fire escape, he listened for a minute. The second heartbeat was much faster than yours, Matt sensed it was a part of him and he couldn’t move, he was frozen in place.

Screams and calls for help tore Matt away from your window but he would be back and next time, he wouldn’t just be standing outside. He desperately needed to talk to you.

**********

After a long day at work and the doctor, you were finally able to take your shoes off and relax. Normally after a long day like today, you’d relax with a little tv and a glass of wine but you wouldn’t be having any wine for another several months, at least.

And even if you did, you probably wouldn’t be able to keep that down either. There wasn’t a lot you were able to keep down lately aside from clementines and bagels but you were thankful that New York bagels were large so they kept you full for a long time.

Frequent trips to the ladies room at work was getting old. You were hoping that your morning sickness wouldn’t last too much longer but all pregnancies were different. Who knows how long this part would last?

Your thoughts drifted to Matt.

You wished you knew what it was he was keeping from you. How many chances did you give him to come clean and explain himself yet he still didn’t tell you the truth?

You missed him though.

And you were going to have to tell him about the baby sooner or later because it was the right thing to do.

Matt was going to be a father, you just had to gather the courage to tell him.

**********

Every time Matt felt brave enough to talk to you, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He still checked on you nightly, listened to your and the baby’s heartbeat for a little while before fleeing to fight the evil of Hell’s Kitchen.

He had arguments with himself constantly about what he wanted to say to you. His days had been long and his nights even longer but he made his decision that he would make time to talk to you…tonight.

Enough time had passed to where you found out you were having a girl. Going to your doctor’s appointments by yourself was scary and lonely. You watched as other expectant mothers brought their significant others with them to their appointments and wished Matt was with you.

You were going to tell him…soon.

**********

Something startled you awake but you didn’t know what it was. It was just a feeling you had, that someone was inside your apartment. The metal baseball bat you kept under your bed was always at arm’s length and as you reached for it, you heard a low gravelly voice coming from the chair on the other side of the room.

“Don’t swing for the fences, sweetheart. It’s just me.” Said Matt.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you saw an outline of a silhouette sitting in your chair before flicking the lamp on.

He had a black hood over his head, covering half of his face. The rest of his clothes were black from head to toe and suddenly you recognized the figure. You had seen his picture in the paper and now that you thought about it, remembering certain photos, you recognized that ass anywhere.

“Matty?! What the fu—? Y-you’re the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?!!” You asked, shocked to your core.

Suddenly the cuts, stitches and bruises…they all made sense. All of the late nights, unanswered phone calls, and why he was so secretive. It all came together, he was sitting in your apartment, confessing to what he was doing, why he was doing it, and why he felt like he had to hide the truth from you.

“I am so so sorry, Angel.” He said.

You sat there in the gathering darkness, stunned and speechless at the trace of desperation in his voice as he talked to you. He confessed his secrets to you just as Hell’s Kitchen confesses its secrets to him…every night.

With no warning, you just blurted out your secret.

“I’m pregnant.” You said, softly.

Matt replied, “I know, sweetheart.”

He went on to explain that the accident had left his other senses heightened.

“…So I can hear your heart beating right now. And I can hear the baby’s.” He said.

With tears swimming in your eyes, you were finally able to find your voice.

“Do you understand why I left, Matthew?” You asked him.

Matt had taken off his hood and moved from the chair to the edge of your bed. You could see his soft brown eyes now in the low light of the bedroom.

“I do but I don’t understand why you couldn’t trust me enough to know it was because I wanted to keep you safe. I don’t want you involved in that part of my life.” He said.

You raised your voice a little. “You can’t separate something like that, Matt! I don’t want to be involved with just PART of your life. Just like I don’t think you want to be involved with just PART of mine! Ya know so far I’ve gone to ALL of my doctor’s appointments alone? I hate going by myself!”

He replied, “But I wanted to do that with you! You could have asked me!”

Matt was slightly agitated. You could tell by the way he pressed his lips into a straight line and how his breathing became more rapid. He stood up and placed his hands firmly on his hips.

“Oh you did?! How? Would you have penciled me in between court and fighting crime?” You yelled sarcastically.

He reached for your hand.

“I don’t wanna fight with you, y/n. I really am sorry.” Said Matt.

To a point, you could understand why he kept all of that from you. Keeping you safe was very important to Matt and now he had an even bigger reason to keep you safe, to keep the both of you safe. The tension in your shoulders eased a little; you knew stress couldn’t be good for the baby.

Matt could feel your body relax as you squeezed his hand.

“Please don’t keep things from me, Matty, ok? I’m gonna need your help when she gets here.” You said with a warm smile.

The corners of Matt’s mouth turned up into a sly smile.

“She?” He asked in barely more than a whisper. “We’re having a girl?”

Matt sat down on the bed once again, closer to you this time, and removed his black gloves. His eyes looked more hazel than brown at the moment as he put his hand out, wanting to touch your stomach.

“Is it ok?” He asked.

You took his hand in yours and placed it on your stomach. “Of course it is. I feel little flutters now and then…like that! Did you feel that?” You asked.

Matt smiled, let out a slight chuckle and nodded.

The gap between your bodies became smaller as you inched closer to him where you could feel his breath on your lashes and close enough to inhale his scent.

Matt brushed his knuckles along your cheek as his lips searched for yours; he kissed you tenderly and slowly like he was scared he was going to break you.

“I’m not gonna pop, Matthew. You don’t have to be THAT gentle.” You said as you kissed him again.

“I’ll remember that, sweetheart.” Said Matt with a devilish smile. “Have you thought of any names for her yet?”

You gently rubbed your belly.

“Maybe.” You replied.

A ghost of a smile stretched across his lips

“Can you tell me what they are?” He asked.

You bit down on your lower lip before replying.

“Maybe.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @elgrandeavocados @freshabogados @gijos @chezagnes @matt-erialgirl

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @pedrito-friskito @mattmurdocksscars @theradioactivespidergwen

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it! I’ve only tagged a handful of people. If you liked it, you can tell me, I don’t bite. I know I haven’t written for Matt in awhile, no pressure.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock fluff #winter sleepover 2024 #ericca answers

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hello-eden · 16 days

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My Reverse Robins AU.

Terry Wayne -32-Antihero- Batwing

Helena Kyle Wayne -30- Thief- Stray

Anastasia al ghul-28- assassin- Viper

Carrie Kelly -26- hero- Blue jay

Matt wanye-23- hero- Nightwing

Alexandria / female damian al ghul-23- hero- Swallow

Stephanie Brown-21- antihero- Red Hood

Tim Drake -21- hero- Oracle

Duke thomas -17- hero- Signal

Cassandra cain-15- hero- Secret

Jason todd -15- hero- Shadow

Richard grayson-12- hero- Robin

Barbara gordon -11- hero- Batgirl

-The gender bend Damien is caused by my Pinterest.

the mantle Robin is called shadow in this AU

I do know Terry and Matt are mcginnis's but in this one they are just called wayne

The ages that I have applied are just the base ages that I used for my math

If anyone wants to write my AU I give you my permission.

I do know if I'm doing reverse Matt should be older but by the time I realized by mistake I was too far in so just ignore that.-

My reverse Robins AU story

Terry and Matt were originally created due to a super soldier program. That the government used Batman's DNA for. Bruce found them and they were the original children taken in. Matt is the original one to create the title of shadow. He shares it with Terry.

Anastasia was created the normal way through Talia and Bruce, Alexandria was a biological experiment to be a backup heir. Alex and Matt call each other twins due to being born two weeks apart. Anastasia had already gone on League missions so she had a harder time conforming to the rules but she is very close with Terry while Alex had not gone on any League missions but did have the training. Anastasia goes by the name Viper which was her League name then it turned into her hero name but she later went back to being an assassin after she killed Joker for Stephanie and got into a fight with her father. Alex shares the name shadow with Matt after Terry takes the name batwing.

Selena got into a lot of trouble and needed to give Helena to Bruce. Bruce only has sole custody for about a year and a half before they do split custody once everything is settled. Helena takes the name Stray to honor her mother. Helena is originally a hero with the rest of her siblings But becomes a thief like her mother after she separates from the family when Stephanie dies due to grief. she does come back.

Carrie is a child vigilante inspired by shadow. She is not adopted until she is 16 when her guardian dies in a car accident. She ends up being quite close with Terry, Helena and Anastasia.

Tim and Stephanie are friends with Matt and Alex. They go to Gotham Academy together.They are introduced to vigilante life due to a kidnapping accident involving the four. Stephanie still takes the name spoiler and Tim ends up using the mantle shadow when Alex is injured. Stephanie ends up being the one that dies and Tim was tortured to be Joker junior not even a week after she was killed. due to the torture Tim is wheelchair-bound. Stephanie's death causes a major Rift in the family which leads to Terry, Helena and Anastasia not talking to Bruce. Matt still talks to Bruce but he ends up moving to bludhaven at 17 while Alex stays at the Manor to take care of Cass while Bruce is grieving.Due to Alex being the only one at the Manor She ends up being close to Tim(which I specifically wrote in to be ironic)The League of Assassins do resurrect Stephanie though there is no big reveal due to the fact that Anastasia is working with her mother when Stephanie is Resurrected though she was not in on the resurrection. Stephanie comes back to be red hood and feels detached from the family due to Bruce Kicking Anastasia out for the Joker's death. Tim ends up taking the name Oracle to help Anastasia due to their not being as many vigilantes in Gotham then there was before Stephanie died due to the big fight.

Cassandra has her usual backstory but she's brought into the family before Stephanie is killed. Cassandra ends up taking the name Secret due to her secretly following Batman and the rest of the vigilantes on patrol before she was adopted into the family.

Bruce ends up fostering Duke after failing to save his parents from a joker attack and takes him in due to guilt. Duke is the first one to be taken in after Stephanie's death so there are a lot of funny interactions with him having no idea how the family was before and meeting the older siblings. Duke later finds out about Bruce being Batman and the rest of the vigilantes being his children then takes on the name Signal.

Jason is taken in the same way as before hitting Bruce with the tire iron and everything. Jason ends up being shadow and also being the only Shadow to work Solo due to their usually being two Shadows. Jason is the one that ends up bringing Bruce back from being Lost in Time.

Richard is taken in the same way as well. Richard ends up taking the name Robin to honor his parents instead of the name shadow.Richard is taken in for about half a year before Batman has lost in time.Richard feels very cursed with losing parental figures back to back but he does end up getting very close to Alexandria before Batman comes back.

Barbara becomes friends with Richard at school and later goes out as Batgirl.

#batfam #batfamily #batman #damian wayne #female Damian #jason todd #timothy drake #stephanie brown #duke thomas #cassandra cain #terry mcginnis #reverse robins #Eden's reverse bats AU

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alwaysxlarrie · 10 months

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you give me feelings that i adore by @alwaysxlarrie / alwaysxlarrie

T+Up | Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | 7.6k

"Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture."

written for the @1daboficfest :)

**all pictures used were found on pinterest, aside from the library & beanie pics! if any of these are your photos & you want direct credit or for me to remove them & use other photos, no worries, just lmk!!**

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asimplearchivist · 5 months

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‘ 𝓪 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 . ’

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ jake struggled to decide whether you were a blessing or a curse to the system—his personal feelings about you didn’t matter. they never had. ⤏ until they suddenly did, that is. ⤏ now he had to fix the mess he caused before he ruined everything for the two he’s trying to protect most as well as you. pairing(s) ☽ steven grant/reader | marc spector/reader | jake lockley/reader word count ☾ 15.6k a/n ☽ ⤏ this chapter was certainly a challenge to write! I have such a particular interpretation of jake in my head influenced by such lovely headcanons and fanfics in the mk community that I had a bit of stage-fright trying to portray him with justice to my vision of him. having very little on-screen material from which to go off of certainly doesn’t help—steven and marc’s voices are so clear to me, but jake’s is a little more subtle and stepping out to develop it on my own was a little nerve-wracking because I wanted so badly to do him justice! ⤏ I also apologize that this chapter came late—I had a busy weekend on top of homework and I was wrestling with jake’s characterization. but here he is, now! let me know if y’all like how I wrote him! :) ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER [TBA] ☽

The first time Steven had met you, it had been strictly by happenstance.

The first time Marc had met you, officially, it had been an accident.

The first time Jake met you, it was an inevitability.

Steven and Marc were wrapped around each of your pinky fingers. Completely enamored with you. Nearly worshiped the ground that you walked on. You had lodged yourself inextricably into their gravitational pull, orbiting them as though you’d always been fixed to their collective side—present almost as often as Jake was.

Jake found it inconvenient at best. Dangerous at worst.

Because despite his near slip-up, fumbling just a bit at the suddenness of stepping in that fateful night Marc had decided to swoop in and rescue you (not that you’d really needed rescuing—you were owed credit for holding your own better than most women with whom they’d ever interacted in such scenarios), the two had not been particularly watchful for him.

Sure, they discussed it more—never around you, of course, worried that you would worry about their unease, being unable to properly identify the source of their combined blackouts. The outlier. But they were doing little else than that, and Jake had almost been concerned about them trying to draw him out by force. Biding their time, maybe. But that was fine—Jake was patient. He waited them out every other time he slipped to the front while they were unaware, save during emergencies, and this would be no different—eventually they’d drop their guard, start to doubt their suspicions, and put the idea to the back of their mind where he dwelt and he could comfortably resume his work.

…That was, provided you were removed from the equation altogether.

London loomed in the height of winter, several months later. They had gotten over themselves long enough to enter full and individual romantic relationships with you, and Jake had to admit that he had never felt either of them as happy as they were around you. Marc had loved Layla dearly, still did, and Jake knew she had been integral to keeping him steady and for some of his healing—but you were different. You were an unknown variable, and yet Marc was putting in his every effort to make it work, not looking to repeat his past mistakes in order to ensure your mutual and assured trust: you knowing the brutal nature of Marc’s past and Marc entrusting you with the intimate knowledge of it.

It had taken time, of course (an excruciatingly long period of it, in fact), but you hadn’t flinched once even when he’d told you of the blood staining his hands, both innocent and villainous, during his time as a soldier and mercenary. You had stayed, hadn’t run, hadn’t treated him like the killer he’d always convinced himself that he was. Marc had been relieved.

Jake had only grown frustrated. The situation was rapidly getting out of hand.

Because Steven’s infatuation with you was one thing. He’d had a few crushes here and there, had been laboring in the dating scene for weeks by the time Marc had inadvertently revealed himself to his alter, and Jake had even tried to help the pobrecito* catch a break once. (Jake couldn’t lie—he’d almost hoped that he could’ve caught a break, too, since Marc had left Layla high and dry and Jake had been pent up with all the mounting stress Marc had only been internalizing instead of dealing with in a somewhat healthy manner—but Steven had deserved to be doted on by a pretty woman at least once in his oblivious, lonely life, and Dylan the tour guide was a very pretty woman.) Steven was a romantic at heart, had sought a meaningful relationship more than anything for the longest, so it was to be expected that he’d eventually fall in with some unwitting little thing ignorant to the myriad problems riddling the inner depths of his psyche—that, Jake could have dealt with, hypothetically, if things had escalated to that point. A quick misunderstanding carefully orchestrated leading to a break-up would have been a simple solution, and while it would have hurt Steven greatly for a while, it would have been ultimately necessary for both the long-term safety of the system and for the security of Jake’s continued, secretive role as Khonshu’s fantoche*.

But Marc getting involved threw an entirely new wrench into the gears of Jake’s plans. Because Marc Spector operated in black or white. All or nothing. Always had and always would. Either he didn’t trust you as far as he could throw you or he’d carry you through the depths of hell barefooted on red-hot coals and have the nerve to apologize to you for stumbling on his bleeding blisters.

Marc’s trust came two-fold, also, now that he was in full cohesion with Steven—he still didn’t readily trust anyone, but if Steven did? He was sold soon after just on the principle of the matter. Steven’s judgment of character was, admittedly, as keen as any telepath’s, despite his naïveté and optimism—and Marc trusted Steven more than he trusted anyone else in the world. Even Layla. Even you.

Even Jake, though it had been entirely subconscious up until very recently.

Because he’d fought Jake the last time he’d forced himself to the front to save his life (and yours, by extension, loathe as Jake was to admit it), whereas before Jake had always managed to blindside him. It was a close call—one that Jake could not afford to make again.

And it would be so much fucking easier if you weren’t around so damn often.

Any bit of spare time the boys had that happened to coincide with yours, they were trying to see you: from snack breaks between your classes or on your shared lunch breaks to movie nights featuring home cooked meals and set tables and lit candles because you were just as much of a romantic as Steven was (God help them). You dried one bloom from every bouquet of flowers they ever brought you, keeping them all in a pitcher you used as a centerpiece more than once. You had even started packing them lunches, for Christ’s sake, with plentiful options that either Steven or Marc would enjoy depending on who ended up fronting. Even when either (or both) of you were too tired to go out on the town for a date (which happened so often Jake wondered how Marc hadn’t depleted his bank account already), the long evenings you weren’t obligated to work or study were spent cuddled up on the couch in your apartment or theirs, oblivious to the outside world as you indulged in each other’s company.

The winter brought worsening weather with it, which meant that you were spending more time at home with them. You’d even started spending the night, which was treading on Jake’s very last nerve—his one assured bastion of being able to take the body surreptitiously without Marc or Steven realizing it was put into jeopardy because while you were a heavy sleeper (almost like a fucking corpse, really—he’d had to check to make sure you were even breathing, once), you hadn’t yet gotten used to sharing a bed with someone, which resulted in you rousing slightly any time the body so much as shifted. Marc still had night terrors occasionally, and you’d never fail to comfort him back to sleep, even at the cost of your own rest.

Jake should be thankful, really, if he thought about it for too long. Marc had managed to keep sober long before he met you, but his cravings had dissipated almost entirely since you’d gently steered him towards sodas instead of beer—meaning no more black-out drunk episodes from which Jake had to nurse the body back from the brink. The body rested better with you there to anchor their unsteady mind at the times it decided to bring back the bad memories. You were feeding them better than they’d eaten since living with Layla, hearty and savory dishes that had packed a few pounds onto their lean frame, helping to negate Marc and Steven’s combined forgetfulness towards even the most basic practices of self-care. You had even started buying them groceries in thanks for the dinners they bought you, keeping their fridge and cabinets full and their personal products stocked up throughout the apartment.

You were doing the brunt of his job for him—making sure the body was taken care of and that neither of them spiraled nor regressed. He should be happy that he didn’t have to pull so much weight anymore, that he got to kick back and relax.

So why did it all piss him off so damn much?

You were pretty, he supposed. Not the most stunning bird he’d ever seen, but you were a decent pull on Steven’s part. You got along with the little nerd, and you got along with Marc—which was a feat in and of itself. You had an incredibly dry sense of humor on top of a quick tongue that drew inadvertent chuckles from even the surliest of Marc’s moods. You kept up with Steven’s intellect effortlessly, and the pair of you could talk hours upon hours on the most mundane of topics—oftentimes earning a scolding from Marc whenever the conversation would carry on past midnight (which would only make you both giggle and apologize sheepishly and rarely actually curbed your shared enthusiasm). You mediated their occasional disagreements with utmost diplomacy, always playing devil’s advocate even on their most childish of squabbles, never played favorites even when they’d playfully compete for your affections—you stood resolute in your stance of loving them equally in their own unique relationships with you.

You made them completely, perfectly, incandescently happy. That should have been enough.

It wasn’t.

Because Jake was getting…distracted.

He’d always been strictly about business—the sole reason he existed. He protected the body, no matter the cost. Now he had Khonshu to answer to, and that was difficult enough, trying to balance enough time at night to do the old bird’s bidding while Marc and Steven slept—blissfully unaware thanks to Jake’s skill in repressing them both to the work he’d been doing the last several months trying to cull out the vestiges of Harrow’s cult.

Because of course that bastard hadn’t taken all his people with him to Cairo to hunt for Ammit’s tomb. Of course he’d left pockets of his followers scattered all over London—assured by his own success, he’d planted them there in order to divide and conquer the city once he’d freed Ammit. And of course they had to be skilled enough at hiding to require him to painstakingly construct an elaborate underground network of people keeping their ears to the ground for any signs. That’s what was taking so long to eradicate them all, and it irritated Khonshu to no end, having to sit and wait when he constantly hounded Jake to ‘execute his justice’. Jake was patient. The god of the moon was most certainly not.

Now add the stress of keeping you unaware of his goings-on? With your infuriatingly saccharine smile and fawn-like fluttering lashes and easy affection that haunted the back of his mind when he did find precious little time to front? He could hardly concentrate on prowling the streets anymore when your detergent of choice had wormed its way into the clothes he kept packed away in the back of Marc’s closet, well away from view (because you even did their laundry for them sometimes when Steven ended up working late on inventory—like a little housewife or something), the scent trapped under Khonshu’s armor nearly smothering him.

Jake knew, deep down though he’d done his best to ignore it, that his ruse would come to a head eventually—Marc was keen on his interiority now that he was no longer in denial of his issues; and Steven was, too, since Marc had let him in on all of it. Jake just didn’t anticipate having to deal with you and your unnervingly observant perception on top of it.

Ultimately it was of little surprise that the scouts for the rest of Harrow’s carroñeros* had put a flag on you, since Jake’s alters spent so much time with you in plain public view. At the very least, it had allowed for that one slippery bastard to finally be put away after somehow surviving Jake’s wrath with him ever having realized it, even if it had put you in danger. The hijo de puta* had played a calculated risk to come after you, trying to cover it up as a robbery rather than a hit to get back at the spectre picking them all off one by one—one that hadn’t paid off in the slightest. He was lucky that Jake hadn’t had the time nor privacy to do exactly what he’d wanted to—a fractured temple via blunt force trauma, hopefully with an added concussion, would have to suffice for the time being. He’d better pray that he wasn’t released anytime soon.

Especially since he’d had the audacity and the gall (and the balls) to target you. Jake wasn’t cruel enough to wish you any harm, don’t get him wrong. You hadn’t done anything wrong, necessarily, just…frustrated him to no end. They were lucky that you’d had the foresight to text them, or else that would’ve been the last that Marc or Steven would’ve ever seen of you.

Jake knew that would only have resulted in disaster.

You had crossed over the threshold of being a danger to the system to being a necessity for their safety and sanity—because if something happened to you now, Jake doubted sincerely that he would ever be able to pick up the pieces of Marc or Steven’s hearts and minds. And so Jake was forced to resolve himself to add one more individual to his list. For the betterment of the system.

Joder, pues claro.*

…It wasn’t as if he didn’t like you. He had to admit that much to himself, at least. You were pleasant enough to be around. You did tell good jokes, well thought out ones that made Jake have to think about them a little while before he got them. He appreciated how rational you were about things, rarely letting your emotions impact otherwise simple miscommunications or misunderstandings over which most women would have a conniption, choosing to talk out your problems while also being honest about how you felt rather than giving them the silent treatment or some shit—it was a necessary balance to Marc’s precarious internalizations of his own complicated feelings and his ever-present struggles to express them in a concise and healthy manner. Jake didn’t mind listening in on your tangents all that much, even if the topics didn’t interest him in the slightest—your passion and thought process kept him hooked enough, as did the dimples bordering your smile and the creases crinkling the corners of your glittering eyes. You were a damn good cook, to boot—Jake had snuck your leftovers on those late nights more often than he’d ever readily admit out loud. Neither still were you hard on the eyes.

So…yeah. If Jake found himself co-fronting, lingering in the back of the headspace well away from Marc and Steven’s reach, as Marc watched you gape at the street performer juggling flaming swords while balancing on a unicycle…that was between him and the soft smile tugging at the corners of their host’s mouth that Jake would likely have reflected despite himself.

The early evening had plunged the city into a nose-numbing one—but you’d been itching to revel in the cold, misty air and to venture out into London’s brimming nightlife with the bolstering safety you’d confessed to feeling while in their presence. The entire plaza was thrumming with music and noise and laughter, light and fire mixing to highlight the angles, curves, and planes of your disbelieving face. You were bundled up to the nines to fight the cold, still unaccustomed to the weather in contrast to the south US’ comparatively mild winters, but you refused to tuck one hand into your pocket in favor of clasping Marc’s firmly. Seated on a bench wedged so closely together that even Jake could feel the tremors in your limbs, you remained glued to his side as though to sap the warmth from the body—evidently, it wasn’t working, because you let out a shuddering breath as your teeth chattered when the performer paused to take a break. Another stepped up to take his place, and the loosely gathered crowd clapped to welcome him.

“You’re going to freeze if you don’t let me take you home,” Marc rumbled into your ear, covered by the toboggan he’d insisted you wear to spare yourself from frostbite.

“Just a little longer, honey?” you pleaded, turning your head to gaze up at him with those infuriatingly fawn-like eyes. “It’s supposed to ice over tonight and I just know I’m going to get cabin fever tomorrow.”

Marc huffed out a wry chuckle, unthreading your fingers to coil his arm around your shoulders and to tug you closer, keeping his mouth tucked close to your ear. “You’re a homebody, baby. I don’t think you’ll have any more trouble staying inside cuddled up with us for the weekend than you normally do.”

You pouted at him playfully, jutting out your bottom lip, and Marc’s gaze was fixed on it until you smoothed your expression. “All right,” you bemoaned, tilting your head away in faux dejection, “I suppose I’ll allow you to coop me up for the next couple of days…” You fluttered your lashes at him. “...as long as you promise to keep me warm, that is. Won’t you, honey?”

“As if you even had to ask.” Marc dipped his head to skim his brow against yours, peering directly into your eyes. “But that’ll require thawing you out first. It’s not getting any warmer.”

“I can think of a few ways to solve that,” you murmured, half-lidded, and slanted your mouth over his—the breath’s breadth between your lips and his was quickly stolen by Marc with a low, knowing chuckle.

Jake rolled his eyes. Metaphorically, of course. He’d even facepalm if he could. You two were hopeless—and he’d thought Steven had it bad.

Can it, Casanova, remarked the Brit as though summoned by Jake’s internal musing, she’s still shakin’.

“I know, I know,” Marc mumbled, pulling away and shaking his head at your amused expression. It had taken a while for both of them to get comfortable enough to vocalize their seemingly one-sided conversations around you, but you treated it as normally as if you could hear the third party, too. Marc patted your hip and stood, grumbling under his breath at the stiffness of his muscles, courtesy of Jake’s last bloody brawl a few nights prior—unbeknownst to either of his alters, of course. “Come on, I bought hot chocolate. We’ll start with that, and then a hot shower.”

You gasped in delight, lurching up to your feet and latching onto his hand once more. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?” you demanded, tugging eagerly at his arm toward the direction of the bus stop. “You could’ve gotten me home hours ago!”

“I wasn’t going to stop you from enjoying all this,” Marc returned, allowing you to guide him in the wrong direction only to see the excited sway of your hips. His eyes cut over the plaza on reflex, but locked onto a couple of guys lingering near the fountain that started to move in the same direction at the same time. His brow furrowed. “Let’s take a shortcut—don’t want to miss the bus.”

He folded your hand over the crook of his arm instead, winding his way through the crowd in an attempt to lose his tail. Jake could feel Marc’s mind crowding with alarm—who they could be, what they would be doing, which group he had once pissed off that now had decided to try to ruin his night—and he edged just a touch closer to the front to peer through Marc’s periphery.

Ah, yes. The bastard with the scar that had come after you had a handful of lackeys, and these cabrónes* were two of them. Twins, big and ginger and mean as hell. Marc was none the wiser to the reason why they were after the body, however—no recognition passed through his racing thoughts—and Jake inwardly cursed.

Steven noticed Marc’s growing apprehension, likewise. What’s wrong, Marc?

“Nothing,” he muttered, causing you to glance up at him questioningly.

“Everything okay?” you asked quietly, glancing around the thinning people as Marc herded you towards the end of the plaza where it was quiet and dark. He ushered you into a narrow alleyway that broke out onto the main street, and while your brow was furrowed, you followed him without resistance. “We haven’t gone this way before.”

“We’re being followed,” he muttered to you, glancing over his shoulder towards the retreating lights. “Remember what I’ve told you?”

Your expression morphed from shock to grave in an instant. It was a discussion Marc had reiterated multiple times—being in a relationship with a wanted man always entailed a certain amount of danger, and Marc had hammered emergency protocol into your head in the event that something like this ever happened. He had hoped that it wouldn’t, for your sake, and the fact that you were schooling any signs of fear in all but your eyes only reinforced the reason why Jake hadn’t wanted you involved at all in the first place.

Jake pressed in closer. Marc’s ears were straining in lieu of ample light, eyes trained on the end of the alleyway—which became shadowed as another pair of silhouettes hemmed the both of you in.

Marc, Steven breathed, tone tight with worry, what now?

“Fuck,” Marc hissed, jerking you against his chest. He whipped around to dart back out from whence you’d come, but the twins had caught up. Heart pounding, he cupped a hand around your head and whispered urgently, “I’m going to take these guys down first so you can run back to the plaza where it’s lit and there’s other people. Call the cops and stick with a group and do not go anywhere by yourself, all right? Not until I come get you.”

Your hands were vices around the collar of his jacket, eyes shining in the dim. Your voice quivered. “Marc, I am not leaving you here alone.”

His fingers tightened around your shoulders. Their footsteps were picking up in speed from both directions, echoing off the dampened brick. “We talked about this—you promised you’d listen to me,” he growled. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. Us. We’ve faced worse odds.”

“What if—” you started, but didn’t have enough time to finish.

Marc shoved you behind him as the first giant reached out with mitts for hands towards you. Marc latched onto the bulky limb, twisting his wrist and pinning him onto the concrete in seconds. He pressed and jerked and the unfortunate soul’s arm popped out of place—a wet, skin-crawling pop that resonated far more loudly off the narrow walls than it should have. The man cried out in pain.

“Marc!” you gasped.

Jake leaned in as Marc took a blow to the side of the head—the other twin’s paw clapped against his ear and sent him careening into the wall, discombobulated as his hearing rang like a siren. His shaken equilibrium buckled his knees, but he pushed himself upright to land a series of resounding punches along the brute’s side and back, targeting the sensitive places sure to bruise at the very least. The ribs gave under the combination of Marc’s strength and expertise, and like a tree the second twin was felled with a well-timed hook to the chin.

“Go!” Marc snapped over the ringing in his ears, hooking a hand around your waist and shoving you in the direction of the exit between the two groaning gingers. “Get out of here!”

You turned back to look at him, utterly terrified. “But—!”

“Damn it, baby, please just—”

The latter pair of cultists didn’t give him as ample a warning as the former—and they were smart enough to pull the guns from their holsters rather than rely on their hands. The shot flashed like lightning, muffled by its silencer.

Marc staggered back, the burning in his side stealing the breath from his lungs. The tinnitus increased twofold, to the point that your startled shout was drowned out entirely. The pounding of their pulse roared in their ears, and Jake thought he heard Steven hollering over the din trapped in their head.

Marc’s control slipped in his shock and pain. Steven grappled for it in terror wholly driven to protect you. Jake seized the opportunity and yanked them both back into the headspace to block them off as he lunged forward—so suddenly that the body folded in half from the strain. His knees buckled and his shoulder struck the brick, jarring him.

“This is the guy that’s been giving us so much trouble?” gloated one of them. “All it takes is one bullet?”

“We’ve shot this one more than a dozen times and it’s never stopped him before,” the other said warily. “Where’s all that get-up?”

Jake muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth as he closed his eyes and concentrated.

“What’s that?” crooned the fool, gesturing lackadaisically towards him with the smoldering muzzle. “Have something to say before we rid the world of your chaos, asshole?”

“Sí.” The avatar raised his head, glowing eyes casting his assailants' suddenly wan, fallen countenances in a spectral hue. “Dije,” he growled as the familiar ragged bandages coiled around his limbs while he straightened to his full height, “te vas a arrepentir, pendejos.*”

The bullet clinked against the damp asphalt as he was fully enveloped in the armor.

“Ah, shit,” they said in unison.

The shock on their faces precluded the terror that followed his swift movement. The crescents whistled as he slung them in their direction—the cocky one caught it in the throat, plunging through his jugular. Blood splattered in a wide arc against the ground as he fell. The cautious one managed to tumble to the side to avoid it, however—just barely.

A heavy hand grabbed his padded shoulder and whirled Jake around—only to be struck across the temple with an errant piece of pipe. Mierda. The twins were back up on their feet, tag-teaming to make up for their missing mobility.

Jake jerked his head back to avoid another swing, summoning a truncheon from the small of his back and shattered the first’s wrist with a well-timed parry. Two more strikes upon the man’s solar plexus and skull sent him crumpling to the ground, totally unconscious at the very least. Two to go.

He didn’t have time to pause. The gunman fired thrice at his back, but the slugs passed right through him. Jake exchanged blows with the twin for a moment, finally propelling himself off the brick wall and swinging over the expanse of his mountainous shoulders to lock and twist his neck between his knees and bring the behemoth crashing down face-first. He didn’t move again even as Jake leapt back to his feet and pitched another array of darts at the gunman’s retreating back. Sliced flesh, a gurgled curse, and the clatter of metal preceded the heavy tumble of his body.

Jake stalked further into the shadows, tucking the truncheon back into its holster and flexing his fists. He grabbed the collar of the gunman’s jacket and hoisted him upright, pinning him to the wall with his forearm against his throat. Blood dribbled from the corners of the man’s mouth onto the woven gauntlet.

“Tell me where the rest of your amigos* are and I’ll consider letting you go,” he growled.

“Funny,” the man spat viciously onto Jake’s mask near his shielded eyes, “how you think I’ll talk after you murdered them!”

“Just like you attacked a bunch of innocent kids, yeah?” Jake snarled. “Said their scales wouldn’t balance just ‘cause they were picking on someone else? Even though your fucking goddess is dead and you don’t even have the power to read a single palm? Child murder isn’t going to get you where you’re wanting to end up, pendejo, and a little bullying isn’t enough to condone ritual execution!”

The gunman roared and tried to grapple with him, but Jake only pinned his wrists into the mortar with a dart over his head before jabbing him in the ribs. He only noticed the panic button clasped between his fingers once the indicator began to blink a rapid crimson.

“Mierda,” Jake hissed, clocking his elbow across the bastard’s face and snatching the device once he slumped over. He dropped and smashed it with his heel, grinding it into bits.

“...Baby?”

Jake stiffened, head whipping towards the sound of your small voice. You had cowered against the wall, plunged mostly in shadow, but your hunched shoulders and quick breaths fogging against the shafts of light that the street lamp at his back cast tipped off your apprehension. He didn’t have time to react, save to open his mouth, before the distant squeal of brakes, the heavy slam of vehicle doors, shouting, and rapid footsteps at the far end of the alley interrupted him.

He marched over to you, the armor receding with every step. He glimpsed your eyes in the dark, round and anxious, even as he gripped your arm and tugged you in the opposite direction. “Come on,” he muttered gruffly. “Better scram.”

“What’s wrong?” you breathed instead, resisting him. You were sturdy, he had to give you that, even as the heels of your boots skidded against the rain-slickened pavement.

“Other than having a bunch of madmen with guns on our tails? Nothing at all.” He pulled a bit more forcefully this time. “Let’s go.”

Your protesting noise was drowned out by an ear-ringing report of a gun, and the air near Jake’s ear whistled with the near miss of a bullet. It ricocheted off the brick and had mortar showering the ground.

“Por el amor de Dios,” Jake hissed. “Corres, chaparrita!*”

He pulled you along behind him into a full sprint. The pair of you broke out of the alley towards the crowded plaza once more. You stumbled a couple of times on the uneven concrete due to the awkward mobility afforded by Jake’s unforgiving grip on your wrist, but he was not going to let you go for fear of you falling behind and getting snatched or worse. His scowl and speed drew bemused glances from the bystanders, but their expressions morphed into shock when their eyes passed over his shoulders.

So the bastards were pissed (or desperate) enough to give chase in broad moonlight. They had balls, he had to give them that—and while it made them stupid, it didn’t make them any less dangerous.

He headed towards the far side where the plaza merged onto the main road littered with vendors on the broad sidewalks. People buzzed along the blocked off street—for the entire event would last all weekend and force all the normal goers to circumnavigate the grounds—in tight throngs, along which he had no doubt he could lose the zealots. The tactic has served him well countless times before—and not just in London, or while under Khonshu’s directive. Merging and camouflaging with oblivious civilians and letting one’s hunters pass one by altogether often worked better than trying to outrun them or to hide outright.

The gateway was narrow, and Jake shoved a man twice his size out of his way to hook a sharp left. The man’s curses were drowned out by your profuse, breathless apologies, and Jake growled out a tense, “Callate!*” before narrowly dodging a street lamp since he’d cast a glare over his shoulder at you.

People’s attention only grew as the street funneled into a narrow crosswalk connecting to a broader street. Jake hooked a right that time, darting past families and couples as he went. You were keeping up with him surprisingly well, but your panting was getting too loud—your stamina would give out soon. He had to figure out a way to blend the both of you in without drawing attention so the zealots would go on and he could double back to lose them completely.

Another right at the end of the block revealed another market street, though the middle was undulating with dancing couples as a busking band was playing a lively, energetic tune.

“Mierda,” he growled, “las cosas que hago por vosotros, hermanos.*”

Jake hauled you to a brisk walk instead, melting into the ring of onlookers clapping along with raucous chatter and laughter. They would provide good enough cover, but Jake knew he could show neither of your faces or else the ruse would be for naught. That necessitated unbearably close proximity with the bane of his existence for the last few months—and you had clocked him instantly. It wouldn’t fly for long.

Jake broke through the wall of people nearest the booths, thankful for the partial shadow that would aid to your obscurement. He hastily tugged the collar of Marc’s jacket up, ruffled his fingers through their hair to conceal the majority of their upper features, and hooked an arm around the middle of your back to tug you against his chest. You scarcely caught yourself on his shoulders to keep your nose from bashing into his sternum. With his free hand he pulled the toboggan from your head and stuffed it into your pocket before tugging the back of your scarf up the back of your head and over your forehead, overlapping the tails to cover your chin and mouth—which opened as your brows furrowed in protest.

Jake ducked his head, pressing his lips against your covered ear. “If you want to live long enough to see the end of the night,” he hissed, hands slipping to your waist and beginning to sway you in time with the music, “you’ll do exactly as I do. Me entiendes?*”

You pursed your lips, but the indignant flare behind your eyes didn’t flicker once—even as exclamations of shock caught his attention. Jake pulled you further back into the shadows, but to his luck a couple of other dancers swung between the pair of you and the zealots squinting down the street for any sign.

Jake began to match the others’ movements to appear more natural, the quick tempo dictating the shuffle of his feet—forward, scuffle, back, ad nauseam, faster than he could breathe. He could hardly concentrate on that as well at the moment, unfortunately, given he hadn’t danced in years.

You were hot under your clothes from the running spree, seeping through yours and his shared layers where the weight of your torso was pressed tightly against his. He kept his face tucked close to the sweep of your neck and shoulder, angling his broad shoulders towards them, winding carefully behind more and more couples while keeping careful rhythm. Your panting came harsh and high next to his ear, your breath warming his chilled shell and lobe. Your hands slipped from his shoulders to rest more convincingly on his chest, a firm press to keep your balance.

Although you didn’t seem to know all the specific steps to this dance, you were obviously familiar with the form and rhythm of it. You were a natural, the shimmy of your hips almost smoother than his own—you didn’t stumble once, light on your feet as you (reluctantly) allowed him to guide you without a single glance behind you to confirm he wasn’t about to walk you into a wall or another person. No, your eyes stayed fixed on what you could see of his face the entire time, forehead perspiring and cheeks darkened from exertion, mouth slightly agape to pull in much-needed air. You were studying him, it seemed like, scanning his features as though dissecting every crease and stretch.

Jake didn’t like it, not one bit. You already knew too much—the last thing he needed was you committing any of him to memory.

Instead of stopping, the band shifted into an entirely new song with a different beat altogether, but when Jake adapted to it, you did so, too—seamlessly, in fact, perfectly in tune to the body’s movements. (Ew. He didn’t need to think about that shit.) The two of you were so close that your knees would have knocked together if your feet weren’t offset. You were used to it, to him, even though you’d only learned the body while the others were using it. You knew him, even though he was a stranger.

Shit, shit, shit. He was so fucked.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of Marc’s sweatshirt over his thrumming heart, anchoring yourself as the tension finally drained from your form—he felt it before he saw it, watching your shoulders loosen as you lost yourself to the music. You almost seemed to be enjoying it, and Jake almost lamented the fact that you were only able to indulge in it under these very dire circumstances.

Almost.

“Are they gone?” you ventured breathlessly, chin brushing against his clavicle as you tilted your head forward so he’d hear your low tone that caused each hair on the nape of his neck to stand on end.

Jake blinked, then looked back up to the street corner with a deep-set frown. “Me distraiste jodidamente,*” he growled under his breath, shoving the visceral image of your chapped lips to the very back of his mind. “Yes, they’re gone.”

Your expression relaxed, then, into one of relief. The song tapered into an end, allowing both the dancers and the musicians a breather, and Jake finally peeled himself away from you as though your warmth had scorched him. He grasped your elbow again, tugging you through a narrow passage between booths to the mouth of a quiet side street with outdoor diners clustered around tables set out despite the weather.

He expected questions. He expected you to demand answers, like any other person in your situation would. ‘Who were they? Why were they trying to hurt me? Who the hell are you and why are you not Marc or Steven?’

He did not expect, however, for you to drop your gaze to his abdomen and to fish your hand under Marc’s jacket. He flinched back, but you’d already hooked a finger into the hole torn into the sticky, blood-soaked material of Marc’s shirt, fingertip grazing the smooth, whole flesh underneath and searing your fingerprint there in the process. He pushed your hand away, taking a half step back to distance himself from the mix of concern and confusion in your eyes.

“Are you hurt?” you asked him quietly, not venturing further into his personal space (to his relief).

Jake clamped his jaw shut and shook his head.

You hesitated. “What’s…what’s your name?”

Fuck his lack of luck, honestly. He half-turned away so he wouldn’t have to look at you.

“...Thank you for saving me.”

He scoffed under his breath. “If you’d kept your promise to Marc in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Your tone instantly sharpened with indignation. “I know what I promised him, but he—you got fucking shot! I wasn’t about to leave you to die!”

“Wouldn’t have died. Just a scratch,” he groused, contorting and tugging the hem of the shirt up to show you the unblemished skin there, smeared with tacky blood against his knuckles. “See? Missed.”

“They did not miss,” you told him matter-of-factly. “I saw Marc fall. There’s fucking blood all over you—I’m not stupid. Do not lie to me.” You stepped closer, then, pointing that same bloodied finger at him and poking him in the sternum. He bared his teeth at you, cornered with the alley wall at his back. “All that back there was something that you’ve got going on, wasn’t it? Marc hasn’t told me about anything like this.”

You were too goddamn smart for your own fucking good. “There’s a lot that Marc hasn’t told you,” he growled, “and for good reason.”

Your eyes flashed. “And I bet you’re the authority on all of that, aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped.

“I’ve noticed them being vigilant lately, but they won’t tell me what’s bothering them. Lots of private conversations—and no, don’t look at me like that, I didn’t listen in on them—and they get anxious when they’re tired or spacey. It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out why they’ve been walking on eggshells ever since you popped up in the coffee shop that night—”

Jake’s jaw dropped open. Things were rapidly escalating out of hand, faster than he could hold them together. “How on earth do you—?”

“Marc is many things,” you said lowly, “but he is not a man who glorifies in violence. It bothers him still to touch me on his bad days, much less brushing up against a stranger. He wouldn’t smirk when he knocks someone out cold—with the pommel of a knife, no less. Neither would Steven, for that matter.”

Jake squared his shoulders and folded his arms over his chest to brush your hand away, glowering down at you. “Why haven’t you said anything to them?”

“Because they haven’t brought it up. I don’t push them for answers that they don’t want to give me. I know it’s already hard enough for them to be open to communicating their thoughts and feelings between themselves—I don’t want to pressure them any more by adding myself to the mix.” You jutted your chin. “But if you’re going to keep putting them in danger, you need to let them know what’s going on so they don’t get caught off-guard again.”

“You need to keep your nose out of my business and let me do my goddamn job,” he ground out.

“It becomes my business when both of our lives get put on the line!” you returned. “And what exactly is your job, huh? Circus performer with a specialty in knives?” You tugged on the hem of the jacket, ignoring how he went rigid. “Where do you keep that costume so they don’t realize they’re wearing it, too, by the way? Because I know for a fact that Steven would’ve mentioned cosplaying as the fucking Mummy if he knew about—”

He gritted his teeth. “It’s not a costume.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” You raised a haughty brow. “Do they know you’re running around like an albino version of London’s Daredevil?”

He was not about to explain all of Khonshu’s business to you. You knew too much already, and if Marc and/or Steven even caught wind of the old bird still hanging around, Jake was done for. “They don’t know about me for a reason, chaparrita, and I’d like to keep it that way. They can’t know about me—it’s better for all of us in the long run—so if you’d very kindly just keep your trap shut—”

“You have to tell them about you,” you told him firmly, eyes blazing, “and about whatever vigilante shit you’ve got going on. It’s not fair to them—they think they’re free from Marc’s old merc work, and here you are using the body against their consent to do whatever it is that you please. Do you realize how much danger you’re putting them in carrying on with shit like this?”

“I am protecting them,” he bit back, a snarl building in the back of his throat.

“By getting them ambushed in a fucking alley?” you snapped. “Your involvement in this could’ve gotten all three of you killed!”

“That costume is the only thing that can keep them alive through anything!” Jake returned sharply. “They would’ve been fine!”

“And what about me?” you demanded. “What about my safety? I know I chose my lot once Marc told me about his past, but this is adding a whole new level to all this that I wasn’t prepared for! What if you hadn’t been there, lingering in the background, or—or however you knew to step in? Do I need to live my life looking over my shoulder just in case there’s someone tailing me, waiting to catch me off-guard long enough to hurt me to get to them thinking they’re you? How do you think they’d react if something happened to me out of the blue, just by my being around them and whoever it is you’re fighting, thinking you’re the same person because you share the same face? Even then, they’d try to get to the bottom of it, and they could get shot, or stabbed, or—or whatever, just by trying to clean up your fucking mess!”

“If you weren’t around being seen with our face in the first place, you wouldn’t be involved to start with,” he growled, “and I wouldn’t have to concern myself with keeping you out of harm’s way all the time! You’re a liability to them—if something happened to you, they’d lose their shit, and I can’t have that happen. You’re as much of a danger to their wellbeing as these fucking cabrónes are!”

You retreated then, hurt flashing across your features so fast he almost missed it, before you schooled your expression into something frigid enough that it sent a chill down Jake’s spine. You floundered for words, lips moving without a sound, and Jake’s fuse shortened by the second. You swallowed, then, and roughly tipped your chin up—in defiance, certainly, but Jake didn’t miss the shine of moisture welling along your lash line. “…Do they feel that way, since you do?” you finally ventured. “Somewhere deep down? That I’m just a burden to them?”

“No,” he sighed, tucking his head and scrubbing his hand down his face. “There’s not a thing in this fucking world that they wouldn’t do for you, chaparrita, or kill themselves by trying. That’s the problem. That’s what makes you so dangerous. They care about you far too much.”

“And you don’t, I take it?” you supposed tightly. “Is that your job? Not to care?”

Jake ground his jaw so tightly his temples throbbed. “Don’t put words in my fucking mouth.”

“Then tell me why, exactly, you’re so hellbent on hiding yourself from them when they’re already trying so goddamn hard to heal and work together? What gives you the right to opt out and do whatever you damn well please, spilling more blood on their hands at the same time they’re trying to wash them clean?”

“There’s nothing special about me,” he bit out, “and they don’t need me—because if they knew what I’ve had to do to keep them alive they’d never forgive themselves!” Your brows twitched up, and Jake snarled under his breath. “Mierda. Just stay out of my fucking business, will you? The less you know, the better. And do not tell them about this, or about me, me entiendes?”

“I am not going to lie to Marc or Steven, and it’s stupid of you to think that I would,” you told him resolutely. “Either you tell them, or I will.”

“Did you miss all of what I just fucking said?” he spat. “If they know about me, it’ll do far more harm than good. They have a hard enough time reconciling what they’ve gone through, I don’t need to add all my shit to it!”

“You’ve helped them survive what they’ve gone through,” you pointed out, and Jake’s breath stopped short. “I’m not stupid, despite what you may think. I can tell even now that your primary concern is their well-being. But don’t you think telling them that you’re here, and that you’re a—a what, a superhero?—wouldn’t that be better than keeping them in the dark?”

“I am not a hero, chaparrita,” he told you darkly.

“Well, you’re certainly not a villain,” you responded evenly—as if you were stating fact.

Jake scowled. “Did they tell you what happened in Egypt? What really happened?”

Your eyes flashed. “They don’t have to, it’s not really any of my business. I know it was hard on them and they don’t like to talk about—”

“We got shot. Twice. We died! And it was only that armor that brought us back!” Jake flashed his teeth. “Marc let the bastard that did it go, but I killed him. That’s the difference between Marc or Steven and I, chaparrita: I hurt those who deserve it and feel no remorse for it.”

You blinked, then, eyes rounded. Realization dawned behind your gaze, and when you looked sharply off to the side, a stray tear slipped over the curve of your cheek. Your expression tightened, and Jake could imagine that you were finally putting together all the fragments of what Steven and Marc had mentioned offhandedly about their time in Egypt.

Jake squeezed his eyes shut, sinking against the wall and dropping his head back against the brick. He dragged a hand down his face with a harsh sigh. He’d completely fumbled this entire situation. “...Mira.* If something were to happen to you, mis hermanos* won’t take it well.” He looked down at you, eyes half-lidded—meeting fire with fire obviously didn’t work with you. Even when Marc was being surly, you only listened when he stopped and lowered his voice. It didn’t take rocket science to figure out that you shut down when you were shouted at, based on the way you’d stared at him like a doe caught in headlights. “...Do you really care about them?”

Your head recoiled to stare at him critically. The vessels in your sclera were an agitated crimson. “Of course I do!”

“Then you’ll listen to me, all right?” He straightened and stepped closer, fingers flexing at his side while he repressed the urge to reach out to you. Seeing you upset was doing funny shit to him. (He didn’t like it. Not one bit.) “After what happened tonight, I can’t afford to wait any longer. I need to finish up my business as soon as possible—I spent too long investigating and biding my time to see when those guys would crawl out of their nest. They are dangerous, and I’m going to do my damnedest to tie up all those loose ends. All right? That means I can’t have you caught in the crossfire. And once I get done with that…” He shook his head, casting his eyes upwards briefly. “...then we’ll talk—you know, about…everything else. Do you understand?”

You glared at him for a long moment, lips pursed as you considered him. Finally, you nodded curtly, once.

He raised a brow. “Can you say it for me?”

Your temples flexed. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Buena nena.*” He peered around the corner just to ensure that the zealots hadn’t doubled back, then moved to the edge of the street and flagged down a cab. When they stopped, he gestured you over. You watched him warily all the while, glancing both ways. He reached for the door and grasped the handle, but you laid your hand over his. He froze.

“Please,” you murmured, pleading him with your gaze, “be careful. Keep taking care of them. Let me know if…if you need any help. If there’s anything I can do...” You squeezed his hand, then let it go. “I’d prefer you three to come back in one piece, you know.”

He swallowed roughly, then nodded. He opened the door, and as you stooped to climb inside, his hand curved around the back of your head. You glanced up at him in surprise, but once you were seated, he abruptly retracted his touch.

“I’m trusting you,” you told him. “I don’t want this to be the last time we meet.”

Jake gave you a rueful, wooden smile. “If you’re lucky, cariño*, you won’t ever have to see me again.”

He shut the door, waved off the driver, and shoved his hands into the pockets of Marc’s jacket. He watched the cab round the corner out of sight, closing his eyes briefly, and turned to start walking in the opposite direction.

Read the rest of the chapter here! :)

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