#Yellow prince tulip

[huramuna]

a maid's folly - chapter 6.

dark aemond x maid ofc minor aemond x floris baratheon work is 18+, minors do not interact, lest ye be smited.

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summary: a new maid from the Vale arrives at the Red Keep during a tumultuous time and becomes ensnared in the One-Eyed prince's web.

word count: 3.7k

girl.... it took a bit to get here but i hope its worth it - please let me know what you think

warnings: smut (details below cut), power imbalance, religious guilt, dark Aemond, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, Aemond being a touch starved weirdo, possessiveness, jealousy, this is going to be ANGSTY

oh to be in love - kate bush • mary on a cross - ghost

chapter specific warnings: violence, blood, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, virginity loss, biting

The next few weeks were good ones for Rosemary– the best ones since her mother passed. She fell into a quick companionship with Helaena, accepting her oddities as fun quirks, rather than bits of madness that everyone else seemed to discount them as.

Helaena was smarter than people gave her credit for. She was witty with a great sense of humor, often poking fun at courtiers and other denizens of the castle. She had a lot of inside knowledge on the gossip and going-ons of the Keep, as people weren't afraid to speak openly while she was in earshot, citing her as daft and not paying attention.

Rosemary and Helaena sat shoulder to shoulder on the settee near the window. It was open, a crisp breeze tousling their hair. 

The princess had promoted Rosemary to her handmaiden, thus upgrading her wardrobe significantly. They matched now, as Rosemary wore light blue dresses, her hair down in a braid. Helaena usually leaned towards cooler colors, like flushed blues and light purples. 

“I've heard that Floris is pitching a fit over the flowers chosen for the wedding,” Helaena chattered, pricking a needle into the fabric stretched over an embroidery hoop-- she was working on a depiction of a blue carpenter bee, “Mother told me she cried when the florist brought in white tulips instead of yellow.”

Rosemary snorted a small giggle, her hands tangled in Helaena's hair, defting the tresses into intricate braids, “And how has your brother taken all of this?”

Helaena was privy to Aemond and Rosemary's 'situation', whatever it may be– it was ill-defined at the moment. The corners of her eyes crinkled into a grin, “He is running Vhagar ragged with how much he flies her. Mother said that when Floris began to weep, he slipped out of the hall and was gone for four hours.”

“Yes, that sounds about right.” the maid hummed. 

The weeks with Helaena had also proven fruitful for Aemond and Rosemary’s interactions– they were still few and far between, with Aemond expressing more restraint than he had before, but he visited Helaena’s chambers more often, citing brotherly love as his reasoning for his frequent social calls.

He entered that day as usual, his arms behind his back. His eye zeroed in on Rosemary, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly. She wasn’t wearing her formless maid’s dresses any longer, as Helaena had her tailored for a few higher end pieces for her. They hugged her curves in the right places with a sweeping décolletage, exposing just the hinting swell of her chest, the light blue complimenting her complexion.

He had been visiting more lately, but the past few days had been taken up with frivolous wedding planning, and half a dozen flights on Vhagar. 

“Brother, you’re staring.” Helaena murmured.

He became all too aware of his surroundings, his mouth slightly dry and his clothes all too tight. It took him a moment to regain his stoic self, “I am merely trying to see what you’re embroidering, dear sister,” he walked forward, nodding his head to Rosemary, “My lady.” he mustered a greeting.

“Your grace,” she hummed in response, tying off Helaena’s braids with a small leather cord, “Would you like for me to braid yours as well?” she said it ever so innocently, but she was goading him. They were in each other’s proximity more often than not lately, with Rosemary often watching him spar in the courtyard from the spectator’s eaves They had developed a back and forth banter— he tested her limits with his witty remarks, and she teased him endlessly until she was all but sure that he would need to relieve himself later. It was a fun game, their little verbal spars, but Rosemary wondered when it would become reality. A man could only be teased so long. 

Aemond cleared his throat, “That won’t be necessary,” he glanced at her for a moment, his pupil blown wide. She knew she had him, hook, line and sinker. 

“Rosemary, weren��t you going to go to the market today?” Helaena redirected the conversation, “I know you had a few things to pick up.” 

The maid perked up, “Oh, yes— hm, I should get started now so mayhaps I’ll make it home before dark,” she squeezed Helaena’s shoulder affectionately, the princess leaning into her touch, “I will see you this evening, my lady,” she got up, smoothing out her dress, curtsying before Aemond, “My prince.” 

“Hm.” he grunted, letting her walk past him. 

She made a quick stop to her room, donning a cape jacket, her hands tying a ribboned, wide-brimmed sun hat to her head. Looping a bag around her shoulder, she set out to the corridors. 

Rosemary walked with purpose, reciting her list, “Lavender oil, honey cakes, lilac and blue thread, rock salt, goat’s milk…” she had her head down, navigating the halls absentmindedly. She brushed shoulders with someone, caught off guard by an anguished gasp. 

Stopping, she looked to see who she bumped, “My apologies,” Rosemary murmured, seeing that it was… Floris Baratheon. She recognized her from passing through Maegor’s Holdfast going to and from Helaena’s chambers, “My lady.” 

Floris scoffed, “Yes, well, watch where you are going,” she looked Rosemary up and down, a flicker of something akin to recognition passing through her eye, “Ah, you’re the princess’ handmaiden, are you not?” 

“Yes, my lady.” 

“I see,” she clicked her tongue, seemingly mulling over something in her head, “Where are you heading in such a hurry, then?”

“I have to pick up a few things from the markets, my lady— I wish to get back before it gets dark.” 

Floris blinked slowly, her hands coming together, “Ah. The markets,” she repeated, “Enjoy your errands.” 

Rosemary curtsied hurriedly, walking away. She had already wasted enough time dawdling. 

The trip down to the market square was fairly uneventful— she managed to get lost once or thrice, still unfamiliar with the layout of the city; she had only visited through it once before arriving at the Keep. 

She haggled with her fair share of merchants and most definitely overpaid for most things. It was a wonder that she managed to somehow haggle up the price. 

The last thing she retrieved was the goat’s milk— it wasn’t to be drinken, but to be added to her and Helaena’s baths. Rosemary had fond memories of her mother drawing her a hot bath and pouring flower oils and goat or sheep’s milk into it, along with the chipped pieces of rock salt. It left her feeling soft and fresh and she wished to experience it once again. 

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Helaena warned Rosemary to not be in King’s Landing at night and to always come back before the sun set. 

Rosemary gnawed at her bottom lip as she tried to retrace her steps. She could see the Red Keep up on the hill, but when she tried to navigate there, she ended up being cut off by dead ends, empty alleys, and paths looming with unsavory characters. 

She felt the bubble of panic rising in her chest, her thumb nail sinking into the soft of her palm. Her lip began to bleed from her incessant biting upon it in her anxiety driven state. 

Turning down another alley, she was met with a dead end again. Tears pricked at her eyes, feeling frustrated and helpless— how idiotic could she be to get lost? She could see the Keep but couldn’t reach it. 

Moving to retreat from the alley, she saw a hooded figure at the end of it, awaiting her. Her heart instantly jumped into her stomach and she froze. The dying light of the sun glinted off of something in its hand— a weapon. 

The tears came in full force now as she dropped her bag, backing up further against the wall. The figure descended upon her, brandishing a knife. It was a man, stocky and older. His breath smelled of decay and rot— he was hissing at her, like some kind of animal. 

Rosemary put her arms up to shield against the first swing, she had seen Aemond do something similar in his training sessions with Ser Criston– of course, he was a seasoned swordsman and usually swathed off an attack with a weapon, so this method was nowhere near as effective as he made it look— it ripped through the fabric of her dress, slicing against her arms. She whimpered in pain but shoved forward against him, knocking him off his balance. He kept up his garbled hissing, as if he was trying to say something. 

“Take my bag— the money is in there, just l-leave me be!” Rosemary cried, kicking the bag towards him. 

The man couldn’t look less interested as he regained his footing, coming in again for the second time. This attempt was fruitful as he knocked Rosemary to the ground— he was on top of her, slicing wildly, his mouth agape. He had no tongue. She tried to keep her arms up to stop him from hitting anything vital, the blade cutting through her skin like ribbons. She cried in pain, kicking and screaming, her blood trickling down onto her face, her dress.

Her life flashed before her eyes— her mother, Jeyne, Helaena, the children— Aemond. 

Suddenly, the man was dead weight against her and the dangerous edge of a sword poked through the front of his skull, mere inches from Rosemary’s face. 

It all felt like a haze, a blur. Was she already dead? She felt so cold, the rivulets of blood flowing across her skin feeling like shards of ice. Her vision closed and blackened around her. 

The weight of the man was kicked off of her and then she was scooped up— she was no longer cold, but warm. She was warm, like in a goat’s milk and lavender oil bath, the steamy water enveloping her like a second skin. She had to be dead, surely. 

“Rosemary,” a voice, familiar, murmured, “Stay awake. Fucking hell, I shouldn’t of let you go alone.” 

She glanced up, her vision still muddied and red— her own blood had dripped into her eyes, stinging. But she realized who was holding her, the flash of a single violet eye burning through her. Aemond.

“Ae… mond,” she whispered. 

“Don’t speak,” he grunted, “Just… stay awake, okay?” 

She didn’t know how long it was until the air around her turned from the flowing outdoor air, to a dank and almost tepid air. It was dark now, flashes of torches dancing in her eyes. 

Then she was set down— on something soft. It smelled like sandalwood and smoke. A bed. Aemond’s bed. 

He sat next to her, bandaging her arms, “You did good putting your arms up,” he said, wrapping the soft, spongy cloth material taut around the worst of her wounds, “Where did you learn that?”

Rosemary blinked, “… been watching you spar… recently,” she responded softly, “I might’ve… picked up a thing or two.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. It made her chest feel aflutter. “Hm,” he mused, “I never saw you there but once.”

“I was hiding… didn’t wish to distract you.” 

Aemond snorted then, rolling his eye, “Chin up,” his hand softly lifted up her head as he wiped a damp, lukewarm cloth over her face, cleansing the blood from her skin. 

“How did you know?”

He made a small noise of discontentment, “You were bound to find yourself in trouble. I saw you overpay for all of your items today, far above market price,” he looked away for a moment, “I can’t say I expected this to happen. But it… was good I was there, I suppose.” the cloth eased over her eyes, helping her sight come back into focus. 

She blinked profusely a few times, tears gathering at her waterline– not just from the irritation, but emotion. “... I don’t know what to say…”

Aemond put the cloth aside, “Usually, this is where one says ‘thank you’,” he chided, citing her taunt at him from a few weeks earlier, “How is the pain?”

Twisting her arms, she sucked in a breath of pain, “... hurts.” 

“It will for a while and will likely scar. But, better a scar than your life,” he hummed, his hand flexing and relaxing absentmindedly, “I’ll bring you a salve for them so they won’t mar your skin as terribly.” his hand reached for hers, turning her palm up. He was gentle, his skin warm.

“... thank you,” she murmured, closing his hand between both of hers, wincing at bit at the movement. “I don’t understand… he didn’t want my money or items– he was actively trying to kill me. To just kill me.”

Aemond looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, his mouth wrought into a thin line, “King’s Landing is a dangerous place– the Red Keep even more so. I… will try to figure out what it was– mayhaps a purposeful attack.”

“Purposeful? Why would anyone want to kill me?” 

“You are the princess’ handmaiden– you have eyes and ears into a lot of affairs in the Keep and perhaps you overheard something you shouldn’t have,” he let go of her hands for a moment, but not before rasping his thumb over her knuckles. He then began to pace. “Have you heard anything odd lately? Some conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to?”

Rosemary only now just saw how distraught Aemond looked– his hair was down completely, the leather tie used to pull it back to the nape of his neck gone, likely broken off. His hands were stained with blood, her blood, and the blood of her would-be killer. He looked a bit flushed, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, his footfalls heavy and filled with emotion– not like his usual silent, detached movements. 

“Aemond,” she murmured. He didn’t stop his pacing, muttering to himself, “Aemond. Aemond!” she raised her voice slightly, causing his head to snap towards her. “Please– we can worry about it all later, just… come here.”

He looked perplexed by her tone and loudness, but walked over anyway.

 In turn, she reached over and took an extra dampened cloth, holding out her hand, “Let me help.” she asked.

He sat down next to her on the bed, the mattress dipping under him. He bobbed his knee incessantly as Rosemary took his hands and washed them of the grime and blood. His jaw was clenched, his muscles taut as if he wanted to spring into action or mayhaps run out of the room.

“Relax,” she grumbled, “I should be the one nervous, not you.”

“I am nervous– you… you were almost killed. I was almost too late, Rosemary,” he spoke, his voice breaking from its usual even tone into something soft and more raw, “What the fuck would we have done if you were… slaughtered by some ingrate? Helaena and the children– they would be heartbroken,” he took in a sharp breath, “... I would be… devastated as well.”

Rosemary stowed away the cloth, her hands not once leaving his. Slowly and cautiously, she intertwined their fingers. It was an intimate gesture, something soft and soothing. She could feel her heart catch in her throat, her ears burning. “Well, you weren’t too late, were you?” she whispered, her voice almost silent. She glanced up at him, those big brown eyes of hers piercing a hole right through him, right into his soul. 

Untangling one hand from hers, his hand came beneath her chin, tilting it upward. “I might’ve burned this whole fucking city down if I was,” he murmured, leaning forward. They were so close, their lips ghosting over one another.

She felt the heat rise in her stomach, feelings jittering around against her ribcage like some of Helaena’s butterflies. Her eyes flicked to his lips, then back to his eye– she inhaled as she leaned in– and in turn, he did as well.

Their lips met– it was soft but intense all at once, the butterflies in her chest breaking free in a cacophony of emotion. It was chaste at first, their lips melding together like two puzzle pieces– before her lips parted slightly and she tilted forward more, her free hand coming up to his chest, but wavering. “C-can I touch you?” she asked, her words pressed against his mouth.

“Please– please touch me,” he practically pleaded, “I’ve waited so long.” 

Her hand slid up his chest slowly, her brow knitting in discomfort as her wounds pressed against the bandages. 

He took note of this, placing her hands on his hips and a likely more comfortable position for her. 

She hummed contentedly as she leaned farther into him, her lips parting once more to accommodate his tongue slipping into her mouth. She needed more of him, pressing as close as she could. She wanted to crawl inside of his ribcage and live there. It was something of comfort.

“Lay down,” he said, breaking their intimate closeness for just a moment, earning a disappointed whimper from her. “I need to taste you.”

Rosemary swallowed heavily, nodding slowly. “I’ve– I’ve never… done this before,” she breathed, “I’m still a maiden.” she scooted back to lay on the soft pillows, looking down. Her dress was a torn mess.

“All the reason to go slow, little lamb,” he responded in turn, edging up the skirt of her dress, “Tell me to stop if you need to.”

Biting her lip, she nodded. The feather light touch of his hand on her leg made her shiver, a coil of warm settling in her core. 

His hands, calloused and rough as they were, felt like smooth silk as they glided up her leg, bunching up her dress at her stomach. His fingers traced the stretch marks on her hips and thighs as if to commit them to memory. Aemond’s fingers hooked under her undergarments and slid them off– a wet strip of arousal prominently painted down the center of them. Grinning, he stowed them away in his pocket, “Hmm,” he hummed, using both hands to part her legs as if it were some great feat, like mounting a dragon or swinging a sword for the first time. “Beautiful.”

Rosemary felt her face go red as she looked down at him, his head between her legs. “Please.” she murmured, almost too quiet to hear.

She didn’t need to beg, not this time at least– he fulfilled her wish, licking a strip from the bottom of her parted folds up to her aching pearl, causing her to whimper. He was slow at first, eeking out every little sound he could out of her before beginning to feast, his tongue ringing circles around her sensitive bud, his hands gripping her thighs like he was a man staved, and she was his last meal before death.

Rosemary clutched the sheets, wanting to snap her legs close, but his strong grip kept them open– thank the Gods for that– the warmed coil inside of her slowly eking into a smolder. ‘A-Aemond, ah–” her first orgasm ripped through her like a bolt of lightning, her toes curling. Her legs wrapped around him as she clenched around nothing, whimpering his name like it was a prayer.

“That’s it,” he purred, “Bleating like a lamb for me– so soft, like I knew you’d be.”

She panted heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her death grip on his head weakened slightly, allowing him to slip from between her legs for just a moment. 

“Let's get this dress off, hm? I want to see all of you.”

“If you undress, too– I won’t be the only one naked,” she grumbled.

He happily obliged, stripping his doublet and trousers and kicking them away, all too eager to get her out of her dress. His fingers deftly undid the buttons, slipping it off of her. A hand palmed one of her heavy breasts, rubbing a nipple between his fore and middle finger. 

“Eyepatch,” she mewled between tiny moans, “Take it off.”

He was a bit more hesitant here– his thumb hooking under the strap. Pausing for a moment, he looked to Rosemary once more. 

She was disheveled, her face flushed red, her hair coming out of her braid and flowing behind her in pale blonde tresses. Her eyes were half-lidded, lips parted ever so slightly. She wanted him, she wanted all of him– it was evident.

Foregoing any more doubt, he discarded the eyepatch, revealing his sapphire implant. 

Her half lidded eyes grew into large saucers, her breath hitching in her throat. Rosemary didn’t say anything else, giving a hum of contentment before pulling him back onto the bed for another kiss. 

“Beautiful,” she cooed between kisses.

It was enough to make Aemond blush– hiding his bashfulness by slipping his tongue back into her mouth, palming his cock in his fist. He swiped the head against her folds, gathering the slick and slowly sliding it in. 

“Gods above,” he grit his teeth, “Fucking tight.” his lips pressed against her neck, he buried himself to the hilt in her, waiting for her approval.

“F-full,” she whimpered, needing a moment to adjust to his size and the overall new sensation, before she nodded for him to proceed.

He moved slowly again, starting at a measured, deliberate pace, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. 

Soon enough, she relaxed into his rocking motions, beginning to enjoy it. His pace increased as he left red marks on her neck, sucking and bruising the delicate skin there. He wanted to be gentle– but he was still a dragon, and dragons were wholly possessive. 

The room was filled with the sounds of her soft whimpering moans and his grunts– the symphony of skin slapping against skin. 

Aemond clenched, feeling the tell-tale sensation that he was close, “F-fuck,” he groaned against her skin, teeth biting into her now, “My lamb– my pretty lamb– you should be my fucking wife. You’re mine, mine, m– fuck–” he stilled his movements as he spilled inside of her, his fingers gripping her hips like soft putty. 

She clenched around him, feeling the warmth of his exertions spread through her. Sweat beaded at her forehead and chest as her hummingbird heart slowed down finally. 

He didn’t pull out yet– rather, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest, laying on his back now.

“Stay with me tonight– please. I wish to wake up next to you, if only this once.” he murmured, holding her close against his chest in his all encompassing hold.

“Of course, my dragon.”

taglist: @watercolorskyy @queen--kenobi @heartb8k2 @violetiss3lfish @toodlesxcuddles

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #the maid's folly #aemond x servant

[runningupthatvecna]

the law of seat partners | part 4

masterlist

a/n: so this is part four, probably the last and final part to bring this little something to an end. it's a bit of a dive into eddie's emotional state and self-esteem issues and it just might sting you a little reading. this whole story has honestly been a wild ride from start to finish and i want to thank every single one of you for giving it so much love! hope you enjoy this last part just as much, if not more. all i can say is that i poured my entire heart into this and it's my first time writing spice, so go easy on me please. my requests are, however, open in case anyone wants me to write more. for this, i'm planning a little sequel part, so keep an eye out for that if you like.

summary: after some intense flower crown binding and a few more intense days at the camp, things are finally getting real between you and eddie. you make him your prince and he makes you his own. read for yourself ;)

word count: 13,5k (lol don't ask i got carried away it seems)

warnings/tags: slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love kinda, not too detailed description of reader's appearance, very close physical closeness, sharing a bed, eddie being touch starved and a very wholesome and caring bean, mentions of eddie's dad being a piece of shit, lots of petnames, shitlots of fluff, a tad bit of angst, abandonment issues & performance anxiety, smut (minors go away!), softdom!eddie, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, blowjob, a bit of edging if you squint, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, pulling out, basically just hot and steamy lovemaking filth. ok BYE

-----

Roses, magnolias, tulips, daisies, sunflowers, yarrows, peonies and lots of twigs with green leaves. For the base. To balance out the colours.

The day had finally come.

You placed the crown of flowers which you had spent an hour assembling and braiding and binding together on your head, intending to wear it with a sense of pride.

A sunflower as the yellow centerpiece, two light purple peonies on each side, some yarrow and white roses here and there.

You guessed that Jonathan would shoot another roll of film full today, measured by the enthusiasm he was displaying just now while directing the postures of the four of you, assigning you poses and giving you instructions on which way to turn so you would be lit in the best way possible.

Robin, Nancy, Max and you were stood in one line, and if it weren't for the fact that you found yourselves on the path leading from the cabins to the little square of the fireplace, surrounded by trees, the view of the lake in the background and framed by a row of tall pines, you would think you were posing for graduation photos.

It was a nice rehearsal, at least.

Anyone else except Will, Eddie and the photographer himself were busy occupying themselves elsewhere.

The younger Byers boy enthusiastically fumbling around with flowers for his own crown – the artist in his element –, Jonathan capturing your precious moments and Eddie, ... well Eddie was honestly just watching the four of you, admiring the scene and being grateful that no one had shoo'ed him away yet, because that meant he'd certainly have to get involved in the yoga-slash-stretching workshop Steve Harrington was trying to attend in the meantime.

Also he was wondering where you took the patience for your magnificent wonder of floral composition from, when he unsuccessfully tried to merely string a bunch of leafy twigs and yarrow together himself.

The teachers had made you all spent the majority of the day in the next bigger town, admiring the contents and exhibits of the local museum, dedicated to bring the regional history, geography specifics and culture closer to its visitors. And the only time the longhaired metalhead had left your side (under protest) was those two times you needed to use the women's restroom.

The younger middle school kids had been an absolute menace to the nerves of Mr Clarke all day, their lack of patience and ability to stay focused on the exhibits getting the best of him.

Eddie's presence made everything better though (for you at least) and the obnoxious children forgotten. You know that feeling when you're on a trip with your friends and your crush is there too and that fact just lifts your entire mood and whatever you guys are doing doesn't matter because they are there with you because their presence is solely enough to make your heart blossom?

Yeah. That.

"Come here", you sat down next to Eddie on the tree trunk that was laid flat to act as a bench, taking and trying to fix whatever attempt of a flower crown he was occupying his fingers with. You would guess that he'd be quite skilled with them as a guitarist, but seeing him drop stuff here and there with his tongue stuck out – a telltale sign that he was focussing super hard – also had you guessing that the skill of binding flower crowns and playing guitar were two different pairs of shoes.

Legs touching, you felt Eddie's gaze wander from the top of your knee over the skin on the plushness of your bare thighs up to the hem of your white flowy linen dress.

Oh, what they would feel like under his gentle touch.

His eyes paused their little journey on your hands, the softness of your skin, how you (just like him) always wore your rings, thin golden bands delicately adorning your index and middle fingers plus the one on your right thumb. He took in the tiny wrinkles stretched over your knuckles, the way your fingertips were readjusting the wire he sloppily had bound the twigs and stems together with, lightly brushing over the even softer petals of the flowers.

Secretly he wished they would lightly brush over his own hands too.

Brush over his neck, his hair, his cheeks, telling him that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him and that he could and would be accepted – and maybe even loved – just the way he was in his truest form.

As if you could be someone with the capability to show him just that. Convince his silly brain that he wasn't the fuck up his father made him believe to be. The unlovable freak his hometown condemned him as.

A feeling he was so desperately yearning for, deep down below the surface where usually no ray of light would ever reach the bottom.

Mainly because he wouldn't let the light through. The waves were and had just always been too high.

Gaze continuing its journey further up, lingering on your chest for a fleeting second, before scanning over the expanse of your neck.

Eddie mentally thanked Nancy for braiding your hair out of the way today.

He took in your jawline, the way your small and delicate earrings decorated the lobes of your ears, a small strand of hair on the side of your head separating your ear from your face, your nose which Eddie found to be very cute, a few freckles spread over the apples of your cheeks, eyes as deep as the ocean, currently focused on not cutting yourself on the garden scissors as clumsy as you could be, and then the pinkish red plushness of your rounded lips.

Eddie was certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against his own. Giving him a glimpse of something big and meaningful, and very very dear to him, something crawling through every vein of his body making the goosebumps erupt on his bare arms, something he craved to his core.

He wanted to touch. Needed to. More of you.

And he felt an all too familiar warmth spread through his abdomen, just like yesterday after the swimming, when his goodnight hug had ended up a bit too tightly for his own good, and he'd had to excuse himself awkwardly in order to take care of the semi slowly causing his damp shorts to become painfully tight.

He took in the way your eyes lit up and the corners of your mouth curled upwards at your successful fix of his poor attempt to impress you, watched you getting up and moving in front of him in a twirl, making the hem of your dress bounce a little.

Of course he noticed that. You were the pretty much only thing occupying the space in his brain.

The light was you.

"Now here you go, Prince of Metal", you chuckled as you placed the crown on his head softly, him blinking up at you through his thick black lashes with a wide smile that was forming on his face slowly at your affectionate gesture and – especially – the title.

It was very modest, just white yarrow and the green of the leaves, an analogy to Eddie's mindset of cherishing simplicity.

A "thank you, darling" escaped his chest in a low, soft tone right before he stood up, still grinning at you as if you had just told him you'd won the lottery. Or he'd won it.

He was certainly feeling like he had. You had done this, something nice, for him. It made his cheeks flush pink. A delightful addition to the white and green.

Jonathan had just finished taking a few close-ups of Max' half-heartedly composed circle of tulips and daisies, and when he noticed you and Eddie in the middle of half empty buckets of leftover flowers and the splutter of twigs and fallen petals, he wasted no time in calling you over to his makeshift photo set.

-----

For the rest of the trip, you couldn't help but think of Eddie's newfound interest in flower arrangements, the way he had selflessly fought with the stubborn wire and unruly twigs just to spend more time with you (and selflessly escape yoga with Steve).

The time at camp was almost coming to an end already. You had two nights left before the bus would roll up again, forcing you to leave the little serene oasis to take you home.

A whole bunch of polaroids was stacked up on your little nightstand by now, one of them showing you alongside the Prince of Metal, proudly posing with flower crown heads held high, and if you didn't know better you would say that the pose you both had taken made the impression of one of a royal couple. Eddie had put his hands on his hips, facing the camera diagonally, your back towards his chest in the same direction as him. Serious expressions, since you were royalty.

Another showed you in between Steve, Robin and Eddie on another hike, all of you well-lit by the bright sun, blue sky and vast lake with the deep green of trees in the background, on top of the hill you had attempted to climb on the first day. Robin was pulling a silly face, while Eddie poked his index finger into the dimple that always formed on Steve's cheek whenever he put on his toothy grin. And you? You were just looking, smiling, gazing at your seat partner.

More of them had been taken during further swimming activities, recreations of the acrobatic performance which Eddie and Max had displayed that first time in the lake, and since Jonathan knew how obsessed with photos you really were, he thought he might as well give you all the others he had taken.

For safekeeping.

Not to mention the one of Eddie and you on the bus.

And then, your personal favourite you had decided, showed Eddie in the white framed rectangle with closed eyes, his crown of flowers decorating the top of his head, the widest grin spread across his face.

He looked angelic.

You wished you could make a thousand copies of it and tape it to every single lamp post and throw it into every single mail box in all of Hawkins.

You wanted to look at it forever.

As you were lying there in the darkness of your shared cabin, you made a mental note to yourself to definitely pay Jonathan back for the film.

Eyes closed, you let your mind wander through all the memories you'd been making these past days. Not just with Prince Metal, but also with everyone else. It was nice and wholesome getting to spend time with the gang outside of Hawkins.

The very vivid memories of the past days flooded your brain. It was easy getting lost in them. So lost, that you audibly gasped as a light knock on the glass of the window pulled you out of conscious dreamland.

Practically shooting up from the mattress, you turned your head towards the window.

The more than familiar wild mane of your favourite Hawkins local satanist stood out from between the ends of the bushes growing beneath that window, and the person it belonged to was intently gesturing towards the wooden door of your cabin.

Eddie was wearing his signature grin when you rolled your eyes at him and the idea of sneaking around in the waking hour that was two in the night.

You mouthed a "fine" at him, nodding towards the door, before you silently tried to get up without triggering an avalanche of your roommates awaking.

The sight that offered itself to you as you crook open the cabin door was something you were certain you were going to burn into the core memories of your life.

Eddie Munson on the first of two steps in front of your door, the pathway with the other cabins in the background, in a black tank top, from the darkness you made the colours of his boxers out to be dark blue, his white sneakers but no socks. The scene in your periphery lit only by the low glow of the moon casting its reflection down onto him and his surroundings through the crowns of the pine trees.

A bunch of tattoos were visibly spread over his arms, guitar pick on a chain around his neck, curtained by his luscious curls. A messy bunch of random forest flowers and grass in his tight fist.

What on earth was he thinking he was doing out here? At this hour?

His expression told you.

"Hi", he almost whispered, a sly smile playing on his lips, eyes searching yours, stretching his arm straight and holding the makeshift flower bouquet out under your nose.

As if it was the most normal thing, showing up at someone's cabin in the middle of the night. In the woods. With random flowers he must have picked on the way here?

You snorted at his gesture and the incredible sweetness of it, it was making you blush hard and your heart combust in your ribcage at the thought of him even thinking of bringing you something. At him even being here right now. The innocence of it juxtaposing with his reputation back at home.

"Jesus Christ, what on earth are you doing out here?", you whispered back in the same tone, leaning in the doorframe in your usual sleep shirt and – of course, since you were surrounded by girls and you all were comfortable enough with each other – panties only.

Eddie took the next logical step, the one above the one he was currently standing on, getting closer to where you were leaning and recreating the usual height difference between you two.

"I can't fall asleep with Steve snoring", still in a hushed tone, and he paused before a small smile formed on his lips again, "and a bird just told me that the extension of the law, remember when I told you about that? Yeah, well, it got approved, so", he paused again, finding your eyes again with his best impression of a puppy, "could I maybe, you know uh, come in and be rescued from my eternal misery?"

You were very well aware that you'd be sent home immediately if anyone caught sight of you letting a male breathing creature past your doorstep, but since it was 2 am, it was also Eddie Munson gazing at you in the moonlight as if you were the most beautiful thing he ever had laid his eyes on, and you couldn't deny that you most definitely wanted this, the possible consequences of your little spontaneous rendezvous, nagging at your brain like alarm bells, were thrown overboard in an instant.

Grabbing one of Eddie's wrists, you pulled him towards you and inside, trying to close and lock the cabin door as silently as possible.

His presence alone and familiar warmth radiating from his body was already soothing the light rush of adrenaline in your veins from doing something that could get the both of you into quite the trouble, and it didn't take him long to take a step forward, moving his arm that you were still holding on to around you, so you were forced to turn your back towards him while his other snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

He squeezed you to himself for a brief second, acting as a silent thank you, before he let go of you with a wide grin that you were only able to see thanks to the dim light of the moon flooding through the one window between the two bunks.

There was a small sparkle in his eye, a glint of serenity, comfort and endless affection. And relief. So much relief from how you were letting him in, weren't rejecting him like he was used to.

Peaceful breathing was filling the room, a light snore coming from the top bunk that wasn't above yours, and Eddie followed you.

You couldn't believe that you were about to share your small mattress and covers with the one guy you'd been harbouring feelings for over the time span of several months.

Eddie couldn't believe it either.

Mere seconds later, you found yourself caged in by the wall, the bed frame and Eddie's body.

It was the most natural thing. Everything fell into place, the way the two of you were lying there, facing each other, inhaling each others breaths from the close proximity, the covers draped over your bodies, hiding the details of Eddie sneaking an arm around your waist again to pull you impossibly closer, his hand carefully exploring more of the territory he already had started to discover on the bus, calloused yet somewhat soft fingertips almost ghosting up the warm skin over your bare spine.

"You're so pretty."

An inaudible whisper of admission.

You heard it.

An invasion of goosebumps spread over every inch of your skin like a wildfire.

Eddie felt it.

"So are you."

The arm you weren't lying on found its way up, tucking a wisp of his curls that had fallen over his now beet red cheek away behind his ear.

Neither of you wanted to ever stop smiling.

He moved his entire being down a little so his eyes were the same level with your jawline, a low hum escaping his throat at the tip of his nose brushing over the skin on your neck in an upward motion, just like that time in the lake.

It was beyond overwhelming to feel him this close. In your bed.

And for Eddie, feeling you this close was so much better than the countless times he had imagined this happening. He'd imagined what it would feel like, your light illuminating all of him.

You let him use your arm as a pillow, before he nuzzled his forehead against the same spot on your neck, his cheek lightly pressed against your clavicle.

And just when you thought you couldn't get physically closer to him than in this moment, bellies touching, legs wordlessly intertwined and all, he pulled you against him some more. Squeezed you tightly and tenderly, letting you know that this was right where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be.

And yeah, it felt quite right to you as well.

Your other arm that wasn't occupied by Eddie's head found its way around his torso, hand rubbing softly over the expanse of his back, and you wondered how much of muscle and softness your fingertips would be encountering if your hand would just cheekily sneak its way underneath his tank top.

Resting your cheek on Eddie's forehead, the warmth, the comfort of wrapping your arms around something to hold onto at night, his steady and satisfied breathing against your own, made you easily drift off into a deep slumber.

Eddie had already passed out the minute you had allowed him to rest his head in the crook of your neck and had draped your arm over him, encasing him in the embrace he so badly needed in order to find his own sleep.

You'd known him long enough to know that he cared about the few people in his life who hadn't let him down, he took care of people that took care of him.

And you wanted to take care of him. In every way you could and in every way he would let you.

Silence filled the single room, steady breaths being in- and exhaled, and you hoped no one had yet woken up to notice your charming little intruder existing in the sacred four walls of the flower cabin.

-----

A ray of sunlight made the shadows of tree leaves dance over the landscape of your face through the window.

You woke up from it, eyelids slowly blinking and then squinting shut again from the sudden invasion of too much light at once.

It took you a few seconds to realize where you were, namely in the small cabin that you were to call home for the week, with Max still snoozing in the bunk above you, a light snore still coming from Robin's side of the room, and Nancy having probably already left to go for her daily morning jog.

The weight of a semi-tattooed arm was resting on your torso diagonally like a seat belt, indicating that Eddie was even in his sleep very concerned for your safety. He had moved upwards, now a head above yours on your actual pillow and on his side, making his chest slowly rise and fall against your head.

It was peaceful, so peaceful waking up next to him, and it felt like the most natural thing. A very easy morning. As if this wasn't the first time ever.

You rubbed the back of your hand over your eye, the movement causing Eddie's hand to give the exposed skin over your waist, until where your shirt had ridden up, another gentle squeeze, making it known to you that he was, in fact, awake as well.

Craning your head towards the head of the bed, your still sleepy eyes found the warm brown of his for a moment, along with a wide stretched smile playing on his lips, dark stubble running down his cheeks and chin and neck before stopping halfway down, since he had forgotten to shave.

Eyelids fell shut again, but the smile stayed. Just for a moment longer, before he relaxed every muscle in his stupidly beautiful face, allowing your eyes to start their own journey of curious wandering.

You took in the way his nostrils flared a little whenever he exhaled, the tiny wrinkles on the outsides of his big doe eyes, a bunch of light freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks, the way they were being pushed up by the corners of his mouth whenever he gave you that smile, the slightly glowing softness of his skin generally, the way his wild unruly dark mane framed his face so perfectly, the way his cupid's bow sat on the plushness of his pink lips, ...

And oh, you were certain they would feel like lying on a cloud in heaven against your own.

You were also certain you were still dreaming, that this entire moment of Eddie knocking on your window and letting him into your bed and him lightly fanning your face with his breath right now was just a dream and you were about to wake up any second to the sound of pesky middle schoolers screaming their way from their cabins to the pergola where you'd usually have breakfast.

But no. This was real. Eddie was real. And he was just so pretty, lying there peacefully snoozing, the expanses of soft bellies still touching, and that wasn't because your mattress didn't stretch wide enough.

"Are you watching me sleeping?", Eddie mumbled, lightly flexing his jaw, eyes staying shut, the smile returning slowly.

If there wasn't a fire in your lower belly burning from all his touches and sweetness already, it damn certainly was now, ignited by the rasp in his low morning voice.

Oh Jesus Christ.

The absolute heat was spreading into two directions, using your heart as its origin. Once again your cheeks heated up, and you felt your thighs clench together involuntarily at the way in which he said those words.

"What if I was?", you mumbled back in a similar tone, trying your best to not let on too much about the effect he was having on you.

Eddie's eyebrows disappeared behind his frizzy bangs. Still refusing to open his eyes.

"Then I'd say you're being a little creep."

He let out a low chuckle while pulling you into his embrace, savouring the moment of having you this close once more and letting you know for certain that he was just joking.

"Pfff, says the guy who literally creeps around my cabin at two in the night."

You could not for the life of you recall a time when his face ever was closer to yours than it was right now, noses almost touching.

"Hey, that was a necessity. We only obeyed the law and I am eternally grateful for your gracious salvation from me meeting my impending doom."

The underlying layer of heaviness of his words was disregarded for now, since you wanted to desperately keep the bliss that came with being so close around him for just a moment longer.

Eddie made you feel like you were the most important person in the entire world, mainly due to his ever prominent abandonment issues. Meaning he never once had really left your side during the entirety of this trip (except for when you had to use the bathroom and, well, sleep – until now), always making sure you were taken care of.

It melted you.

And you didn't mind his clinginess at all. Male validation wasn't something you had to run from in order to save yourself from drowning in it. The opposite was more of the case, you were soaking it up like the roots of a flower that hadn't seen rain in years.

Oh wait, flowers decay at some point if they don't get watered? Well, yeah. You'd almost been there at some point in the past.

"You're such a dork", you remarked his theatrics with a chuckle, before burying your face in the crook of his neck, cheek pressed to his clavicle and nose dipping into the soft skin where neck and shoulder met, "but a very cute one."

A hint of shyness overcame you.

Awaiting his reaction was unbearable.

Eddie's cheeks flushed a bright red at your admission and the fact that you were so very obviously trying to hide your fluster between his shoulder and neck? You going all sweetly shy on him simply made his brain short circuit.

Did you just call him cute?

While your – your – lips (!!!) were so close to his skin, barely brushing over one of his sensitive spots?

No, Eddie Munson was almost certain he was still in dreamland.

Only now he dared to open his eyes, just to make sure he hadn't dreamt the sneaking-into-your-cabin-last-night part either, and let out a sigh at the conscious feeling of your skin that had collided with his palm, your nose at his pulse point, hair tickling his chin.

Then, the realization of that meaning behind your latest words kicked in.

Meanwhile, you didn't dare to lift your head to see his reaction for yourself.

He made you feel it though, when a boost of confidence helped one of his hands find a home on one of your butt cheeks, the arm which your head was still resting on wrapping around your shoulder so his arms were fully engulfing your figure, and his own head dipped down to where your neck was slightly craned.

Tip of the nose brushing up along the expanse of your neck in a singular swift motion of his head, since he already had found out a while ago that you didn't dislike that one, and then?

Then he buried his nose in the hair coming down behind your ear, while his lips slowly, almost carefully placed a peck to where your jaw met your neck, followed by another low hum at the feeling of you not backing away. Of you staying with him.

At first you weren't so sure if you had registered that correctly, but at the same time, judging from the way you could feel a familiar warmth pool between your legs, you were pretty sure he'd just kissed your neck.

Neckneckneck.

Thank fuck he couldn't see the way your eyes were rolling into the back of your skull at the sensation of his warm lips on your warmer skin.

Months over months of yearning for him, for this, for lying in his tight embrace, against the warmth of his body, longing glances you had directed at him, his innocent arm around your shoulder practically burning through whatever shirt you were wearing on those days, the now occurring realization that his sly remarks and jokes had literally been his way of subtly flirting with you, painting all his glances that had been thrown back at you in a similarly wistful light.

It was all so much at once, yet you already couldn't possibly get enough of him.

You nuzzled closer (if that was even physically possible), your arm squished between your bodies, the arm you weren't lying on wrapped around his torso, hand still underneath his tank top, running your fingertips along the smooth skin over his spine.

Giving back.

A nice concept.

A little less shy now, still cautious though, your lips pressed against the slightly stubbly side of his neck as you craned your head further up.

Eddie couldn't believe his fucking luck.

"Mhm, baby."

His almost whispering voice didn't have to travel far from how close his lips were to your ear. Because they still were lingering on your neck, where he countered your admission with another chaste kiss, trying not to overwhelm you.

It was too much. You couldn't take it any longer.

Lifting your head away from his skin, the warmth radiating from his neck engulfing your face, you softly dropped the weight back on Eddie's arm.

A wide smile decorated his face, letting you know that everything was alright with you and him in his book, and in his big brown chocolate orbs you only found affection.

You hoped he could spot the same in yours.

Oh, a surge of confidence erupted inside of you.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

Eddie's fingers occupied themselves with a soft dig into the plushy flesh of your ass, while the smile dancing on his lips slowly turned into a cheeky grin, dimples denting his skin adorably, and his other hand craned around your head, thumb bending far enough to run the length of it down your cheek.

"Mhm, darling. Why do you think I've been touching you this entire time?"

Without another moment of hesitation you closed the distance between your faces, lips colliding with his own in the softest way.

You both were now lying on a cloud in heaven.

It was passionate from the beginning, yet not too wild, a fuzzy feeling of warmth spreading through your entire system at the sensation.

The low hums that Eddie let out at the feeling of your lips softly moving against his own was sending your sense of time and space into the void, and the fact that you initiated this was making his head spin like the ceiling fans in Hawkins High's cafeteria.

Slow slow slow movements, your hands wandered up to cup his cheeks, while he pulled your hips impossibly closer to his own, humming against the endless softness of your lips dancing over his.

Each kiss lasted for a few seconds, it was like you were both trying so hard to feel every line and ridge and texture of each other, and also neither of you seem to waste a single care in the world about hurrying up.

"Oh lord Jesus Christ!", Robin's loud voice ripped you out of your little trance as it went echoing through the room.

Right, you almost forgot you weren't existing in your cabin all by your twosomeness.

Despite being caught in the act by just a mutual friend of yours (and not Ms Kelley), the metalhead and you still broke apart hastily.

A hint of panic overcame Eddie at the sudden intrusion, making him let go of you, grabbing the pillow underneath his head and shoving it into the now existent gap in between your bodies, since you had discarded the sheets a while ago. Why need a blanket if you have a perfectly functioning Eddie Munson to keep you warm at night?

It surprised you that he didn't fall off the bed entirely with how close to the edge of it he now was.

A relieved sigh escaped his lungs when he realised who really caught him stealing affectionate gestures from you.

Ms Robin Buckley had no problem with the both of you, she just wasn't expecting to find Eddie lying in your bed (slowly kissing you into oblivion) in her periphery while she was digging for her bathroom utensils so she could make sure she'd look less like a corpse for breakfast.

With "whatever this is, I didn't see it" and a loud open and close of the door, she excused herself, leaving you in your solitude.

With Max Mayfield. In the top bunk above you two, which she loudly made you remember as soon as Eddie got up to follow Robin's trace outside with a quick "uh, see you in a bit, sweetness", still clutching your pillow over his front while waddling his way over to the safety of his own cabin in which Dustin was probably still snoring into the next millenium.

"Soooo, what did I just wake up to? Hm?", you heard Max say with the most curious undertone after the door closed behind Eddie, as you rolled onto your back, already finding the emptiness and lack of warmth caused by Prince Metal's exit rather unpleasant.

Your only response was a groan as you pulled the sheets up and all the way over your head.

The pathetic attempt to hide wasn't meant as a long-term solution since your lungs unfortunately started craving oxygen at some point.

"Go away!"

It came out more as a mumble than a yell, mainly due to the muffling effect of the layer of fabric between your head and Max' ears, and as you pulled your head out from under the blanket covering your entire figure only to see Max' head poking out from the bunk above you, her long red mane dangling down towards the ground, you felt the heat rushing to your cheeks.

You had kinda seen it coming already, the struggle with having to explain yourself in the morning when your roommates would find Eddie snoozing peacefully in your arms.

But now it really hit.

You had just slept next to him. Literally kissed your crush. Who wasn't really a crush anymore. To you, Eddie was a lot more than that already.

Max just giggled at your response, jumping out of her bunk and continuing her teasing for the rest of the morning.

Well, at least until you joined the rest of the gang for breakfast.

Today was your last full day, and that meant going on another sweaty (yet beautiful) hike, a heated and intense capture the flag session in which Eddie didn't leave your side once, claiming that as your seat partner he also had the obligation to protect you from potentially evil forest spirits, and you also filled out the day by attending a cooking workshop, pairing up with Nancy.

Eddie – having to detach his everlingering hand on some part of your body throughout the day now – spent time with Max, Dustin and Steve, still successfully avoiding being dragged to the yoga session by the latter.

You guessed they were attending a class about forest herbs and survival tipps, an absolute necessity should they ever get lost in the vastness of a random national park one day.

Peeling potatoes at the counter of the outdoor kitchen, you peered over to the pathway as the group of students including your friends walked past, trying to spot your favourite out of them.

Eddie found your longing glance and returned it, along with the widest grin and a little bashful wave of his ringed hand.

You felt your heart jump at the vision, absentmindedly waving back with the hand that held the potato by two fingers, smiling like the most lovedrunk idiot.

The moment was fleeting, because he collided mere milliseconds later with Dustin's backside, giving the kid a gentle slap on the back of his head for stopping unexpectedly just to inspect the shape of a leaf from the tree next to him, making him look silly and like a total dork in front of you.

Your smile turned into a full on giggle when Eddie gave you a sheepishly yearning last look before the little gathering lead by Mr Clarke continued on the pathway, leading further into the forest and out of your periphery.

God, you loved him.

The day in its entirety was peaceful despite the doom of having to pack up and make sure not to forget anything that might have slipped underneath the beds. You were supposed to leave early in the morning just to be back in Hawkins before nightfall.

Even though you were growing tired of mosquito bites and flies viewing your meals as theirs, you couldn't be bothered to come up with feelings of homesickness. Not when you were surrounded by your loving friend group, Prince Metal and the serene oasis in the forest.

-----

The sun was about to set, casting a golden glow over the crowns of the pine trees swallowing the camp, light breezes of wind making the arms and twigs of the more leafy trees rustle softly every now and then.

Eddie got up from the couch he was lounging on, taking a semi nap in the presence of Dustin, Max and Jonathan after the intense workshop and stuffing himself at the surprisingly rich buffet your teachers had organised for your last evening.

He'd been subtly eyeing you from underneath the tall pergola, chatting and laughing with Steve and Robin by the bonfire which was already rising tall into the sky in the clearing of trees between pergola and pathway to the cabins.

The perfect way your clothes hugged your curves, the thin fabric of your shirt and adding its absolute nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples (also maybe due to you not finding it necessary to wear a bra), the stunning way your hair was shining in the start of golden hour, face illuminated by the fire in front of you, the enchanting way you curled your lips at a joke Steve had made (he even felt a tinge of jealousy creep into the center of his stomach), the entirely dazzling way your shirt had ridden up a little, showing skin between the waistband of your shorts and the hem of it.

And it was giving him ideas.

To anyone else these little things and details didn't seem too worthy to pay attention to, but Eddie noticed. He noticed you stealing wistful glances, making their way over to him here and there (and after the night he had, he was sure they weren't meant for Dustin), he noticed every inch of your skin that would unintentionally reveal itself to him from the ways in which you moved, he noticed the way your smile changed into something so astonishing when directed at him. Special.

You never looked at Steve like that. Or anyone else, for that matter.

Being as chronically touch starved as a metalhead outcast town freak could be, Eddie decided that it was too much. He couldn't not be near you any longer.

Your breath hitched in your throat just as you saw him get up and make his way over to you, a mix of confidence and shyness combined in his strut, before he came to a stop at the end of the log you were seated on, right next to your side.

"M'lady? May I ask her grace to walk with me?", you heard his voice say softly, a distinctly hopeful tone, warm and filled with the bashfulness from earlier in the day. Eddie met your smile with one equally wide.

A hand with ringed fingers was held out to you and you took it.

He lead you away from the group, away from everyone else, down the path towards the cabins where no one was at this hour, after he had intertwined your fingers with his own, the metal of his rings giving your fingers a little extra squeeze.

"It's nice to be sitting with the others and all, and I really enjoyed Dustin's ideas for Hellfire's next campaign, but", Eddie paused as he came to a still in his walk down to where your sleeping quarters were located, turning around to face you as his hand refused to let go of yours, right before continuing in the softest voice, barely audible, "I was hoping we could just leave them for a bit and enjoy the last evening a little more .. in private?"

Eddie leaned in a little closer with every word jumping over his lips.

Until he was inches away from yours, finding your eyes and you noticed the slight change of tone in the warm brown ocean of his. It had turned a shade or two darker as you reciprocated his beguiling gaze.

Oh, how easy it was for you to get entirely lost in it.

"I think that's an intriguing idea, Eddie", you replied with a smile, hoping he'd see and sense the same thing in your own eyes that was so clearly reflected in his. For you and for this reason, it was never difficult to look into them for long. Especially when he was so intently watching you.

A hand snuck around your waist, pulling you closer so your bellies would touch, the hand previously attached to yours now cupping your cheek, thumb softly running over the apple of it, head leaning in even further. Eddie's gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips and back in a matter of seconds, letting you know exactly what he was about to do.

Your hands found the little hairs at the nape of his neck, curling around the sides of it, lightly pulling as the plushness of his lips reunited with yours.

He hummed at the feeling, the moment filled with so much familiarity already. Without breaking contact, he gently cupped the other side of your face with his other hand, holding you there, needing you there.

Ever so softly, your lips moved against his, a moment you wished would last forever.

"I've been thinking about you all day", he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he wrapped his arms around you, lips landing on your pulse point. Breathing warmly against the skin there as he mumbled something along the lines of "they kept me away from my cute seat partner for way too long" before letting out a warm chuckle.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, still getting flustered by the directness of his flirting attempts. They were effective though, because you couldn't help but squeeze the back of his neck lightly with one hand while your other sneaked around his waist and underneath the hem of his shirt, reconnecting with its favourite place, the warmth and softness of skin on Eddie's back.

"It is an incredible atrocity indeed", you said with a giggle, making him raise his head back to face you, and the spark in his eyes gave you enough of a confidence rush, "I think we should make up for lost time then."

Waisting not a second longer, Eddie grabbed your hand again, and before you knew it, he had you affectionately pressed between the inside of his cabin's door and his body in a whimpering mess.

His kisses were getting hungrier, more demanding, yet there was a gentleness to it that let you know that you could stop this any second if you didn't want it.

"Is this okay, baby? We don't have to do anything if you don't want–", he asked in between sloppy pecks over your cheeks, jaw, down your neck that made you giggle lightly at his manners. It's not like his hands were all over you already, yet he was wondering if anything he was doing was alright with you.

"I can't get enough of you if I'm honest", you cut him off quietly, feeling the heat pooling in your underwear from the sensation of just about everything right now.

You were very well aware of the thing you were about to do. Crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, letting Eddie see you for all that you were, and giving him the freedom to choose.

Spoiler – he chose you.

Had done so since the moment you stepped onto the bus on that parking lot back home.

"Fuck, sweetness, you can't just say stuff like that", Eddie's voice came out huskily, he clearly was getting worked up over your response to his actions since he had you pinned to the door by the hips, his thigh in between yours, while his fingertips explored the skin of your waist underneath your shirt, lips still hovering over the expanse of your neck, brushing his nose upwards along the column of it, but this time a lot more slowly than the previous times.

He seemed to want to savour every single second he was granted access to your body like this, dragging each movement out as far as possible.

His wide, dark brown doe eyes returned to yours as he exhaled, "and expect me to be normal about it."

You didn't waste another second without your lips on his, pulling him back towards you by the chain which was holding his favourite guitar pick around his neck, eliciting a moan against your mouth out of him.

The only thing on Eddie's mind was you you you, the warmth of your perfect skin under his palms, the feeling of your pretty pink lips against his own, even the smell of you alluring him to no end.

Breaking away to catch your breath with eyes still closed, your lips curled into a smile when Eddie's hands wandered higher and higher while leaving goosebumps on the way, thumbs softly catching the underside of your tits, making you let out a content little sigh, as if his hands had just found their home, belonging right there.

His lips reunited with the skin on your neck, a moan escaping them as his thumbs reached your hard nipples, your neck vibrating lightly against his mouth when a moan of your own forced itself out of your lungs and your back arched away from the door for a second.

It had been a long time since anyone had touched you there, never in this way before though, which amplified every little touch Eddie practically worshipped you with.

A shudder ripped through you at the overwhelming sensation, it made you dizzy with want.

"It's so fucking hot when you twitch under my touch", Eddie almost whispered against your neck, and you were certain his voice couldn't drop any lower as he slowly rolled one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, before raising his head just to watch your reaction even more closely.

"Yeah?"

His actions made you swallow hard, well aware of being at his mercy at the moment.

And yes, Eddie Munson continued the torture he was teasing you with.

"Yeah baby", he lightly poked his nose into your cheek for a second, "so what if I told you", he paused again, then kissed the corner of your mouth, "that I actually felt those little twitches", he tenderly kissed his way down over your cheek to your jaw, "throughout the whole week?"

One of his hands now left your chest, only to drop south.

He made it his mission to find out exactly what you liked. Find out what did it for you, what you wanted from him. What you needed from him.

"I'm curious to know what would happen if I touched you", he paused, lips millimeters away from the skin right beneath your ear, "here?"

A hand snaked around your figure, cupping one of your buttcheeks, the need for you heavily evident in the urgency of the touch.

You responded with another moan through closed lips, eyes closed, your hands finding the back of Eddie's neck again, lightly caressing his skin and tugging at the baby hairs there.

"Yeah, you like that baby, don't you? When I touch you here?"

A light spank.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded with a hum and another moan, cheek rubbing slowly and gently against his scruffy own as your hips involuntarily bucked up against his thigh.

Every movement was slow and gentle right now, yet heavy with hunger for each other.

Eddie noticed. Yet, he decided to take his sweeeeet time and drive you insane just a little longer.

"What about", he paused again, and you felt him smile against your neck as his hand still cupping your chest started kneading a little, rolling the nipple harder just to make sure you actually felt it, "here?"

The back of your head landed against the door with a thud as you moaned and whimpered a little louder this time, the shiteating grin on Eddie's face widening even more, obviously taking pride in his effects on you.

"You're making such pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Would you maybe also like me to touch you", another pause, in which he moved his hand around your hips, boldly cupping the space between your legs through the thinness of your shorts, "here?"

His breath was tickling the skin on your neck, the last word nothing more than an almost inaudible whisper, traveling all the way down from your jaw to your collarbone.

"Fuck, Eddie", you whimpered out his name, completely lost in him, moving your own hands downtown to where his hellfire shirt was tucked into the waistband of his light blue jeans, just when you suddenly remembered you had a pair of your own.

Hearing you say his name made Eddie shamelessly buck his hips into yours, failing pathetically at hiding the fact that what he was doing to you was also more than enjoyable for him, since you could clearly make out the heavy bulge straining against his pants, pressed against your hip.

"Mhm yeah, such a good girl for me", Eddie chuckled watching you for another second before reuniting your lips with his own, this time with a force of need, almost greedily taking your lower lip between his own for a second, swiping his tongue along, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

From slow and gentle to a feverish fumble of hands everywhere, it didn't take the both of you long to start freeing each other from the confines of your clothes.

Eddie had lifted your shirt off of you, finally freeing what he'd been dying to get his eyes (and hands) on, and you'd done the same to him, only to take a second to admire the few more tattoos that had until now been hiding from your gaze.

You noticed he was holding his breath, wild mane falling into the sides of his face from your ruffling during heated kisses, and the room suddenly felt a lot warmer.

The only thought in your mind was Eddie in front of you, just a small step away, now in nothing but his boxers, looking at you with an intensity you'd never seen before in him, and your fingers twitched with the desire to just touch.

You had run your hand just over the buckle of his handcuff belt, the movement of his pants against his erection already making him hiss a little. You'd run it over the fabric of the black jeans he was wearing, right where he wanted you most.

Because yeah, you could do that, too.

Eddie had found the pace in which you'd opened his belt to be way too slow, but he'd let you go with it anyway, being so lost in you and so lovedrunk (and straight up horny) that he hadn't dared to intervene.

Your slowness-slash-hesitation had a reason. The anxiety and intrusive thoughts of not being good enough, being too inexperienced decided to jump out of its dark corner inside your brain in just the right moment, causing you to back away from him, giving him a second to have his gaze wander over you.

It wasn't that you'd never done this before, there had been a guy you'd more or less been with, but this right here and now was just so different. More serious? Eddie wasn't just a guy. He was your Eddie at this point.

And however this trip would end, things would inevitably be changed between the two of you. And ultimately affect the dynamics of your friend group.

Eddie was a sensitive person. He was able to read the room, sense your hesitation. He closed the gap between you, his hand landing on your hip, bellies touching, hardness pressing against your thigh.

"Everything alright, darling?"

Cupping your cheek with his free hand, he tilted his head to find your eyes, the look in his filled with concern now, wondering if this was still okay for you.

Your arms snaked around his torso, fingertips lingering on his waist. He felt them burn through his skin.

A train of seemingly endless thoughts ran through your head, not knowing how to proceed from your lack of having done this enough times to just know, paired with the expectations you believed Eddie to have of this situation, and therefore, of you.

"Yeah, yeah", you assured him. The last thing you wanted was for him to believe he'd done anything wrong.

"It's just that", you paused, struggling to find the words to explain yourself and the rise of your performance anxiety while trying your best to avoid his puppy doe eye gaze, "I haven't really–"

A warm thumb on your lips cut you off, its hand directing your face towards his, the hand on your hip now lightly digging into the flesh there.

"I know baby, I know", Eddie said, referring to his wisdom with unknown origin to you, exhaling deeply before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your plush cheek, the gesture intending to let you know that you could be utterly honest and vulnerable with him. "Would you like me to show you", another pause, his gaze back on your face, thumb now lightly pulling down your lower lip, "what I like?"

Opening your mouth as a response, the tip of your tongue was briefly met with the tip of Eddie's thumb, causing him to twitch lightly and let out a groan through closed lips.

Everything you did and everything you were in your essence was driving him to the edge of insanity, not surprising after the months and months of thirsting after you in his desperate silence.

And his gentleness with you was making the dark imposter syndrome clouds in your head melt away like Lindor chocolate in mild temperatures.

His eyes bored into yours intently as you stuck your tongue out to meet the base of his thumb, just to drag it all the way up to the tip, before closing your lips around it and suck lightly.

"Mhhm, fuck", you heard him mutter, the effect your actions seemed to have on him giving you enough confidence to let his thumb go with a small pop, your hands still lingering on his waist pushing him a step away from you so you'd have enough space to drop to your knees, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them towards gravity to finally free him.

With precum leaking from the tip, you took a second to admire Eddie's girth and length with wide eyes, and it made your mouth water and your panties even more soaked than they already were.

Taking him in your hand, you smeared the precum down to the base where a light thatch of dark curls sat, leading up to his happy trail which you'd already gotten to lay sight on on the bus, and that time frankly hadn't been the first of you imagining what the place to where that trail was leading looked like.

Leaning upwards, you kept ahold of him, kissing the soft skin of his lower belly right above his curls as his hand buried itself in your hair at the back of your head, letting out a guttural moan when you let your tongue run through the tiny hairs leading up to his navel, just to kiss your way back down again, slowly, gently, all the way over the soft expanse, taking another second to bury your nose in his skin, inhaling everything he was willing to offer you.

He was about to ask you if you could pinch him just to make sure this was reality happening right in front of him, you kneeling all pretty with your hand wrapped around his cock, now slowly lifting it and flattening your tongue at the base to lick a broad stripe up along the underside, making you feel each little vein on the way to his pink tip.

"Jesus, fuuuck, that's it baby", you just heard him encourage you, indeed letting you know what he liked, his grip on your hair tightening lightly.

The fact that you could feel him throb and twitch and hear him whimper slurred renditions of your name alongside small curses gave you a significant ego boost, causing you to find enough confidence to lock eyes with him from underneath your lashes.

"Fuck, and you were worried that you wouldn't be good at this?", Eddie chuckled as he looked down at you in disbelief, his free hand not tangled up in the strands of hair cupping your cheek to affectionately brush his thumb over it, unable to ever get the image in front of him out of his brain.

"Fucking hell, you're being soooo good for me baby, oh my god, yeah, just like that", he mumbled when you started swirling your tongue around the head, softly rubbing the tip of it over the underside every now and then, until you decided to close your lips around him, letting him feel your wet warmth.

It gave Eddie a great idea of a similar place he was dying to discover. Itching.

And it took every little ounce of willpower in him to keep his hips away from giving into the urge to thrust his entire length into the confines of your mouth, so out of respect for you, he channelled his impulses into a symphony of soft moans, quiet mutters of oh, fuck and oh my god, and whimpers of your name as you took him deeper with every bob of your head.

Every little sound escaping him only turned you on even more. You couldn't possibly get enough of seeing him all blissed out and soft for you like this, causing the vibrations of your own moans to make Eddie shudder.

However, he didn't give himself too much time to enjoy the feeling of your mouth taking him, since he was already bending down a little to lift you back up to your feet, before capturing your lips in a hot and heavy kiss while pulling you tightly into his embrace, both of his hands sliding down from your lower back and underneath the fabric of your panties, just to end their journey on your ass and roughly pull you against him.

"I'm gonna cum on the spot if you keep doing that", he'd declared, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your neck, nibbling softly at the skin, making your cheeks flush with heat.

No one had ever said that to you.

You winced at the roller coaster he put you on, his back and forth between rough and demanding and gentle and soft, but you were eating it up.

He was hypnotizing you with every touch and every grunt and every move you felt against your lips.

Not even when the backs of your knees hit the bed frame did he let go of you, resulting in him burying you into his mattress under his weight, commented with a giggle from the both of you.

Moving to your side, he reconnected his lips to your neck and you craned your head up, giving him better access while one of his hands slowly moved around to your front, cupping you through your panties, his middle finger lightly pressing into that very damp spot in the fabric, eliciting a moan out of you.

It was his turn now.

"Wanna make you feel good too, sweetness. Gonna let me, yeah?", his sultry voice didn't even wait for a response, impatient fingers moving the lace to the side before running the middle through your folds, tip of it catching your clit briefly.

"Oh fuck yes!" There it was. You breathed the words out in a whiny tone, your hand reaching down to give his still rock hard cock a few sloppy strokes in return, earning another soft moan against the junction of your jaw meeting your throat.

If the situation wasn't this hot, if Eddie's finger didn't make the room spin, you think you'd be embarrassed to no end with how pathetic your moans were sounding, but the pleasure you were experiencing and the metalhead's tender endearments you were receiving just didn't leave any space for any other feeling.

You just couldn't bring yourself to care.

Eddie didn't care either. In fact, he was bathing in your responsiveness, feeling every single one of your touches in the endings of his tiniest nerve branches. Being the touch starved, crucified town freak and all.

Your neediness for him made his insides turn and his head spin, he was still having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that you'd let him come this close and do this to you, and your cute little whimpers made him want to give you everything you'd ever silently (or not so silently) request from him.

He felt this entire moment after moment to be a haze, a fever dream he'd wake up from at some point, and for this reason, he didn't waste a single thought on anything else but you.

How infatuated with you he was.

"Mhhm fuck, so needy for me baby, aren't you?", he remarked the way you were bucking your hips against his hand, "drives me fucking nuts."

He lifted his head just so he could watch the way your face crinkled with every slow up-and-down stroke of his finger, gathering your evident arousal on the way before gently pushing it in, indulging the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head for just a second before they opened and found the warm deep dark brown of his own.

"Mhh yes Eddie, need you so bad", you managed to get out as he added his ring finger, stretching you open a bit more under slick sounds of his hand against your cunt.

His face was so close. So close that if you turned your head just a little, your kiss swollen lips could be back on his, giving him one more confirmation that the way his fingers were curling inside of you were doing just the right job. In fact, he was finding spots you could only dream to reach on your own.

You felt more precum leak from the tip of his cock which was resting against your thigh, the slow rut of his hips against yours smearing it between your bodies, causing your brain to short-circuit at the realisation that it was you being the reason for him to act this way.

Only making you spread your legs wider.

"God baby, you're so fucking wet", he trailed off, continuing to slowly fuck his two fingers into your tight entrance, completely enticed with the way you were giving yourself to him, "is that all because of me?"

He just needed to hear you say it.

"Mhh fuck yes Eddie, all for you. For you only."

No idea how you got that out, with the way his fingers felt and the way he was looking at you, all lovedrunk and ready to give you the world.

"You gonna let me have a taste?"

Pulling his hand away and leaving you empty under a protesting whimper, he sucked the two fingers into his mouth, moaning against them without breaking eye contact and it was driving you mad. You nodded with a dazed smile.

He got up just to drop his weight between your legs, spreading them by planting his palms on the backs of your thighs firmly and pushing them up, panties still to the side.

You held your legs there when he moved his hands down, taking both thumbs to open you up for him, taking just a second to get his first actual look at your pussy and watch it glisten in the dim light of the sun casting its last rays of the day through the denseness of trees and into the room.

Eddie had fantasized plenty for literal months about the way you'd possibly look, but nothing prepared him for the actual sight in front of him.

It made you feel the most vulnerable you'd ever felt, letting him see and touch you this way, yet there was a naturalness to it that made it just so easy to give yourself to him.

Building trust with him seemed to be the easiest thing for you. Surprising yourself there, aren't ya?

And when his tongue shyly took its first swirl around your clit? Nothing was ever easier than Eddie.

Waves of pleasure took over your brain with every lap of his mouth, taking you between his lips, licking, sucking, swirling, slurping, making your thighs twitch with every single one of his moves, and he was (quite literally) eating your responsiveness up, each of his moans against the most sensitive part of your body becoming deeper in sound.

He noticed he could cum just from tasting you as he found his hips inconsistently humping the mattress, hearing your sweet chants as one of your hands found its way back into his unruly mane, encouraging him further in his actions.

"Fuuuck baby, I need you. Need all of you, please?", you whimpered just when the heat in your lower stomach was about to reach its peak, raising your head as your eyes encountered the way he was watching you from underneath his bangs sticking to his forehead, the hand not entangled in his hair busy fisting his bedsheets.

That was the only thing he needed to hear.

You could feel him smile, continuing to do so as he pushed himself up on his knees and crawling a few inches forward to be eye to eye hovering over you, chin, lips and tip of his nose glistening with your juices, the ends of his dark curls tickling your cheeks. He helped you wriggle out of your panties swiftly, discarding them on the cabin floor to join the rest of your clothes, hands resting on the softness of your thighs as he knelt back to sit on his heels.

He felt his dick twitch between his legs, seeing you lying and spread out underneath in front of him, in all your glory, ready to let him take you where you wanted to be most.

The vision tugging at his heartstrings, knowing how much trust you were instilling in him in order for you to let him go this far with you.

"Eddie, please."

You pushed yourself up to meet his lips, planting one hand on the back of his neck, the other hooked a finger into the chain dangling down like a collar, and without breaking away you pulled him back down with you.

"Yeah? Wanna feel me fill your pretty little pussy?", he breathed out, hands back on your thighs, digging into their plushness.

You believed to hear Eddie's voice to drop an octave, now leaning back again to let the underside of his cock slowly glide through your soaked folds, the head catching on your clit deliciously, making your head spin from having him do this to you.

"God, yes", you moaned out, watching him through heavy eyelids.

Eddie smiled his dimpled smile down at your face, reveling in the sight as he let the tip breach your sopping entrance, giving him an idea of how tightly his cock would be sitting inside of you.

His eyes were fixated on the spot where your bodies were now joined, slowly pushing another inch in as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer.

"Eyes on me, baby", Eddie mouthed at your jawline as he leaned back down to place a quick kiss there, right when he noticed you zoning out, focusing on taking him as best as you possibly could.

Once again your eyes found the warm gaze he was observing your every move with, and soon you felt his lips back on your own, kissing you softly as he slowly pushed all the way in, forcing a gasp out of your lungs at the feeling of utter fullness.

For a moment, the world stopped.

Eddie blinked at you through half-lidded eyes now, nudging his nose against your own before capturing your lips in another heated kiss, sending both of your tongues dancing and a moan from the pit of his lungs vibrated through your system.

Your hands moved up to cup his face, holding him close to you as his trailed up the underside of your thighs, before pushing your knees towards your chest, practically bending you in half and slowly starting to move his hips against your own when he felt you adjust to him.

"Oh fuck, fuuuck you're so tight", Eddie sighed, eyes falling shut at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in like that, and his words ringing through your ears, and hearing him admit to you what you were making him feel? It made you clench around him briefly, goosebumps spread over every inch of your body at the words forming on his tongue.

You were just so warm and wet and soft and so so tight, completely fucked out for him and him only.

"Eyes on me, baby", you repeated his own words back to him with a smile and glassy eyes, completely stunned to feel him like this, slowly filling and leaving you again.

Opening his eyes again to meet your gaze, his lips curled into a wide smile at your sentiment, "gonna be soft with you, unless you want me not to be, yeah?", he leaned down to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth, forearms now resting on each side of your head, before his last words were nuzzled against your ear, "just tell me, sweetnose."

With his announcement he gave you a few more slow and gentle thrusts, getting both of you used to the feeling, before he moved back up again, holding your thighs spread out against your chest, his eyes glued to where his heavy cock slid in and out of your sopping slick hole.

Heat was spreading through his body, an excessive amount of endorphines circulating through his veins, transporting the desire and hunger for you into the tiniest endings of his nerves, causing his entire system to be in the moment with you.

Same thing applied to you.

It didn't take long for him to pick up the pace, right after he moved a pillow under your hips, with the aim to hit your sweet spot at just the right angle, slide his entire length in even deeper, making the tip kiss your cervix repeatedly.

Moans and whimpers and grunts and groans from both your mouths where conjuring a whole opera of beautiful sounds you both were reveling in equally as you moved your hips to meet his repeated thrusting, tip of his cock brushing over that spot inside of you each time he moved in to fill the space between your drenched walls.

His entire weight was on you, since he wanted to sink his teeth back into the soft flesh of your neck, nibbling and sucking at the skin there. Your hands found a home in his hair, gently scratching his scalp, sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and you felt a puddle slowly take its form on the cover of the pillow tucked underneath your ass.

He was so deep, so so deep inside of you, his eyes bored themselves through yours straight into your soul, foreheads touching.

"Fuck, fuck, Eddie, feels so good", you babbled and moaned against his stubbly cheek, your heavy breath tickling down his own neck, "need more."

The knot in your lower abdomen was already tightening, getting ready to snap from just his feral thrusts and the beguiling way he was eyeing you.

"Yeah baby? Wanna cum for me?"

Your neediness made him chuckle, raising himself up and back on his heels, a strong arm wrapping around your torso and pulling you up with him, into his lap, letting one of his hands rest on and dig into your plush thigh.

He let himself drop on his butt, the hand on your thigh slowly trailing up up up, fingertips and palm climbing softly all the way over your back to come and stay on the back of your neck, encasing you fully and pressing you against his chest, letting you know he needed you just as close as you needed him.

Without even thinking about it your hips started moving against his as you straddled him, your kiss swollen lips finding his own again, panting into each others mouths, and soon enough the knot between your legs came close to snapping, from the change of position, the length of his cock now gliding smoothly against your clit with each rock of your hips, creating the delicious friction you so desperately craved.

"Yes baby, that's it, lose it for me, oh god fuck!", Eddie panted as he felt your hips starting to stutter, his words sending you over the edge, cunt spasming and clenching around him, your frantic breaths hitting his face as your head was thrown back.

He was soaking you up with all the sweet sounds you were making for him, helping you ride out your high, hands moving down to your ass to lift you, just after announcing his own release through a sickeningly deep moan and mumbles of "oh fuck baby, so close, gonna make me– oh shit", hot and sticky saltiness joining your sweet juices, landing in the tight space between your bellies, painting undefinable patterns onto the heated skin.

For another eternity you held each other close, felt his breathing against your shoulder and collarbone as he dipped his head to place a kiss to your throat, moving his hands away from your back to cup your face, pressing his lips to yours, not wanting to let the moment go just yet.

And then, he dropped the bomb.

"Say that you're mine", he still panted, forehead leaning against yours, noses touching as your hands cupped his on top of your cheeks.

It made you chuckle, the fact he was asking this now after fucking you into another dimension, and it made your thumbs brush over the backs of his palms.

You sensed the tension still present in every fiber of his being with the way he was holding onto your face, still needing you close, and since you knew about his abandonment issues to some extent, seeing him all vulnerable like this was tugging at your heartstrings to no end.

None of his usual slightly cocky tone, just pure softness and an open heart was what presented itself to you.

Say that you're mine.

Of course you were his.

Your facial expression softened endlessly, you felt all your insides melt into one big puddle, mouth forming into a small pout, one hand coming down to rest on his own cheek, closing the gap and slotting your lower lip in between his.

You wanted him to feel the amount of affection you had for him, in your eyes, in your kiss, in your touch.

He was supposed to feel loved. Like he should always have felt that he was loved.

"I'm all yours, Eddie. But only if you're all mine."

The look in your eyes said it all. The one in his, too.

Yeah. He was your Eddie. Your seat partner. Your magnet.

Eddie pulled you into him, as if hearing the words come out of your mouth and the way you were looking at him all soft and gooey made all his angst about being dropped and left again slowly vanish.

"I'll need some time to get used to this", he paused, not daring to meet your eye, "I mean, to someone that doesn't just leave after a while."

Since being this close to someone emotionally was about equally far away from any routine for you as well, you met him with utmost understanding.

"That's okay. We're in no rush, right?", you kissed the corner of his mouth, small pecks over the stubbly cheek opposite of where your hand was placed.

You were able to watch him get too much into his head as you spoke.

"You sure about that? I don't think the law of seat partners extends to–"

Your lips pressed to his own cut him off, "you don't need a silly law to make me wanna spend time with you, Munson."

A quick journey of your eyes over his beautiful face, his eyes widened, eyebrows raised, lips curled into a pretty smile, cheeks all rosy and forehead bangs sticking to his forehead from your most recent activities.

"Actually, I've been dreaming of you – and this – since I met you at Steve's for the first time and Dustin introduced you to me as his ultra handsome dungeon master, you remember?", you continued, hoping it would give him an idea how how much you'd been wistfully pining after him, an idea about how wanted he was.

Of course Eddie remembered.

It was the night he had left way earlier than usual because he just couldn't stand being around you without making a colossal fool out of himself for already wanting to be close to you after just thirty minutes of being in the same room, afraid to be coming on way too strong for his reputation and, speaking from experience, ultimately scare you away.

His hands dropped from your face, two strong arms wrapping themselves back around your figure as he breathed in your sweat-sticky scent, desperately trying one more time to glue this memory into the long-term department of his brain.

"Wait, does that mean I could have .. could've had you .. all this time?"

A chuckle escaped your lips, before leaning into him once more, planting another sweet kiss to his mouth.

"Yeah silly, ... all this time."

-----

Home was calling you back into the bleak reality of trying to graduate high school, and you were far from missing it.

Nancy using her famous organizational talents had made sure that Robin wouldn't leave her special pillow behind, and instructed you to look extra carefully for any items that might have flown behind the bedframe.

And she was correct. You'd blindly reached for a little white framed polaroid, only to discover that it was the one of Eddie with his flower crown, eyes squeezed shut, grinning like an absolute idiot.

He still, maybe even more so now, looked angelic.

You'd never forgive yourself if you'd leave that one here.

The ride home was spent with your head on Prince Metal's shoulder for the most part, your back practically lying on his chest, huddled up against him.

And it did take all the strength in the both of you to not constantly be all over each other, especially under the scrutinizing eyes of your teachers.

A few pecks were stolen here and there, the feeling of being entirely lovedrunk making it hard to separate. Thankfully, for the foreseeable future, you didn't have to.

The group had just shot you knowing looks at breakfast, Max, Robin and the older guys who had seen you wrapped (and very covered up, Eddie had made sure of that) in Eddie's sheets in the morning responsible for not being able to keep their beaks shut.

For the long hours you'd be spending on the road, Eddie had organized a restock of snacks at the only supermarket in the first town you'd stopped at on the way.

"As your designated seat partner, it is so hard to keep my hands to myself", you mumbled into the fabric of the dark and washed out Metallica shirt covering his shoulder with a sheepish grin, as your hand slowly disappeared into the bag on his lap, pulling out whatever box of cookies he'd chosen.

Eddie couldn't help but snort at your innuendo and the way you were using his own joke on him in return.

Lowering his head, planting his cheek against your temple, whispers.

"Oh baby, just wait until we're home."

-----

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#oh my god #it is here #part 4 #the law of seat partners #i hope this isn't too bad #my nerves #sorry for the wait #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things 4 #nora writes

[thelustybraavosimaid]

In the past fortnight the royal party had been in Winterfell, Aemon was not without either Robb or Arya.

The latter always promised him some grand adventure, and more often than not the two of them burned the day away by playing silly games in the godswood until they were breathless and sweaty and dirty and succumbed to laughing fits, or giggling to themselves as they nick hot fresh loaves of bread or scones from the kitchens, but this day was different.

Today she led him to Winterfell's glass gardens, and he inspected the outside of it. Panes of glass were wedged between the thick slabs of granite stone that matched the castle. Aemon had been told before that Winterfell had been built upon a system of hot springs that fed through the stone like blood pumping in a man's body, and that seemed to be the case here as well. Moisture misted the inside of the garden, and the silhouettes of the workers within were distorted and darker shades of the green and yellow of the glass panels. Utterly unbothered by the presence of others, Arya held onto his hand and led him to the door, the glitter in her grey eyes as she looked back a little promise of adventure.

Who was he to deny his cousin on her name day?

The prince passed the threshold, and was taken with the deceptive size of the inside. Rows of assorted trees, fruits, vegetables, and flowers were sectioned off. Cherries and apples and squash, tulips and blueberries and raspberries, much and more spanned the length of the area. Cooks were tending to the vegetables in one section. Baskets of various sizes were filled with carrots and leeks and onions. They spared them a furtive glance from time to time, but generally paid them no mind.

Two things truly caught him. The first was the scent of the room itself, familiar and comforting, though this was his first tour of the gardens. It was warm and earthy, and it hit him that this was the smell that clung to Arya's skin. Wind and water and freshly tilled earth, blended into one as if the gardens themselves formed her. He took a deep breath, relaxing.

The second was how hot it was in here. Not hot enough to stifle one's breathing, but warm enough for perspiration to dot his brow. But despite the sweat on his hand, Arya's grip was still on his, tight and sure, and he continued to follow.

The air was very sweet here, and they stopped before a little field of shrubs. Blackberries, he thought, his mouth watering. Did she know the fruits were his favourite? Some of the five-petaled flowers were still in bloom, while fruit bore in other spots—some pink and red, unripe and sure to be sour, while others still were dark and ready for picking. Arya filled her hand with those, and offered them to him with a shy smile.

Aemon scooped up half with eager greed and shoveled them all into his mouth, relishing the taste. He felt the liquid dotting the seam of his lips. This is not princely, he thought, unbidden as his tongue subconsciously darted out, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Arya's cheeks were puffed with fresh fruit and the juice was already staining her lips a deep purple, a stream threatening to escape further and down to her chin, and he wanted to laugh at the sight. It didn't help that one of the cooks chased them off, slow and lumbering, telling them that they needed those berries for pies.

She wiped her mouth with the back of the hand. "I want you to see the flowers," she declared, jutting out her chin in a stubborn pout.

He nodded his assent.

Arya led him to the section of flowers, the sweet smell mingling with earth.

"I love the smell of this place," she confessed. "The covered bridge where you can see the whole of the yard is my second favourite spot."

He quirked a dark brow. "You never told me that you liked flowers."

"Why would I bring you here if I hated flowers, stupid?"

"Because you enjoy spending time with me, little cousin. The longer the better." He snorted, following her as she named more. Red flowers, blue, pink and purple, the colours of the rainbow were on full display. She plucked a sweet-smelling blue flower and brought it to her nose before reaching to tuck it behind his ear. "You are holding me hostage with games and adventure because you know how impossible it is to deny you anything. I can see right through you, Arya."

"It's my name day!" A ghost of a smile traced her lips. "Why wouldn't I want to show you my favourite spots?"

He ruined her hair further with a ruffle. "And that's why I'm here, little cousin." Though I'd still be here even if it weren't your name day.

Aemon's gaze travelled until he spotted a rosebush off in the distance. Now it was him leading her somewhere; he inspected the bush until he found one to his liking. Smiling, he withdrew the little blade his queen mother had gifted him and sliced it off with ease.

"What are you doing?" Curiosity littered her voice. The smile was still plastered on his face when he slanted his head.

"As thanks for the berries, allow me to make something for you." He ran the blade down the stem, slicing a few thorns off before he looked back up at her, raising a brow. "Do you object?"

She sucked her lip between her teeth and chewed. He took her silence for acceptance, and so he continued his work.

As his fingers danced, he had launched into a tale of how the Queen Lyanna taught him the names of various flowers, and he had committed them all to memory—gillyflowers and poppies, dragon's breaths and thistles and everything in between until she eventually plucked a red rose for him. Back then, he had taken the petals off, one by one, carefully twisting the stem to impale them on the thorns to mimic the one she wore, but then she picked another one and showed him how to make a flower crown proper. The queen's hands were strong as she cut off the thorns and twisted and wove, feeding one and then another through the weave. By the time she had finished, there were four fat roses sturdily braided in a thick tangle of stems, one for each side.

And remember, her lilting voice softened as she put the crown on him, no one wants to be pricked by thorns, Aemon. Make sure you remove every one.

Lost in his memory, Aemon followed her old instructions until it was well-fashioned enough for him to rest it on Arya's head, the weight making it sink in dark tufts. Instead of one on each side, he had made a crown of three roses littering in the front.

"My mother was my father's Queen of Love and Beauty," he said absently. "Father says she does her duty well, but sometimes I think she prefers the first crown he gave her."

His hand found her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Was it just him or was she...glowing? He was caught by surprise, and he found himself watching her. Sparkling grey eyes, a pink flush to the cheeks, a rough tumble of dark hair in loose northern braids, a smile as wild as she herself...she is pretty.

Very pretty.

He broke from his thoughts with a blink and a cleared throat. "There," he said, straightening. "Now you are my Queen of Love and Beauty."

#asoiaf #jon snow #arya stark #fanfiction #needleheart #jonrya

[running2reanimation]

Tulip got an ask about DND a while ago, and what characters the sticks might play… Here are my headcanons on what they might choose to play. Feel free to send asks for details (if pestered enough I might make a character sheet).

Red - Firbolg Barbarian named Hewn

Green - Elf Bard named Pauniel Intarian

Blue - Satyr Druid named Lisian

Yellow - Gnome Artificer named Lyann Goodwire

Second Coming - Human Paladin named Adrian Becker

Purple - Tiefling Warlock named Prince

King - DM or Half-Elf Wizard named Lyster

Chosen One - Kenku Bard named Ember (the sound of a fire crackling)

Dark Lord - DM or Drow Artificer named Zyxx

Herobrine - DM or Shadar-Kai Monk named Ais

Victim - DM or Yuan-ti Wizard named Ssydio

Striker - Dragonborn Fighter named Sidic Wheda-Ir (Sid for short)

Primal - Shifter Monk named Hope

Logo - Tortle Cleric named Tuskah

Bit - Changeling Fighter named Ballista (yes he’s using his own name)

Gold - Half-Elf Sorcerer named Quince Lysterson

Orchid - Tiefling Bard named Queen

Cobalt - Human Fighter named Victor Leo

OCs

Aqua - DM or Halfling Druid named Thyme Flaxsewn

Mint - Aasimar Sorcerer named Sonda Lia

Royal - DM or Lizardfolk Wizard named Noctis

Teal - DM or Tabaxi Rogue named Miles Botinne

Indigo - Triton Fighter named Mako

Fern - Centaur Ranger named Amal Thea

Sky - Elf Rogue named Elian

Mahogany - Fairy Rogue named Ilsie

Chestnut - Harengon Sorcerer named Westley Swifteye

#dnd #headcanons

[danicadenniss]

DreamWorks Trolls: The Beat Goes On

Rapunzetroll

Once upon a time, there is a happy king Peppy, his wife Queen Tulip and his older daughter Viva, in the castle, Queen Tulip is pregnant with their second child, she groaned in pain.

Queen Tulip: (grabbing a small glass cup of water by take to sip and then it’s dropped on the floor. Groan) Peppy! My water is broken, I’m in labor.

King Peppy: (screaming in echo) AAAAAAAAAAAAH!

At the forest, a small golden yellow flower blooms on the ground, in the cabin, white skinned man with black spotted, wearing a rag clothes, his name is Spot, he heard over the castle.

Spot: What’s that sound?

Back in the castle, He screamed in his horror, Queen Tulips slapped his face and pulled his body.

Queen Tulips: Don’t say that again!

Young Viva: Daddy, where are you going?

King Peppy: My guards and I are going to the forest and back the flower for her.

Young Viva: Daddy, I’ll go with you!

King Peppy: No! It’s too dangerous for you, I want Toad to keep you safe.

Toad: Yes! Your highness!

King Peppy and his guards walked out of the castle and entered into the woods, he seemed a pink flower, Spot wrote Don’t ever steal my flowers from me!

Toad Guard #1: What’s are we going to do?

King Peppy: Now, I want you to glad that flower over here.

Toad Guard #1: As you wish, your highness.

The guards walked in the garden, they pick the flower and put it into a bag, they race on time back to the castle, Spot walked and see his flowers is gone.

Spot: (Gasp) Who’s the hell, did it? (looking at wood) Did the king do that’s? I’ll get them soon!

Back to the castle, doctors and nurses make the medicine, with a golden yellow flower to heal Queen Tulips, it’s a beautiful baby dark pink troll, a princess is born.

King Peppy: We are going to named our baby princess.

Young Viva: How’s about Poppy?

Baby Poppy: Mama and Dada (giggling) Viva

Young Viva: Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! She saying my name.

King Peppy: Hahaha!

Queen Tulips: Awww, welcome to our family and the world, Poppy, yes we do!

-6 Months Later-

After she was born, she fast asleep in the cradle, Spot broke in the castle, he walked to her room, then he put a pillow replaced in the cradle.

Spot: Give me, my flowers back to me. (Grabbed Poppy in his bag and he out of the castle, he jumped down to a small trampoline)

King Peppy: Poppy, it’s feeding time…. What the? (Looks at a pillow in a cradle) My daughter! (Screaming)

Queen Tulips: (gasp) No!

Young Viva: NOOOOOOOOO! (Sobbing)

King Peppy: (echoing in the castle) Somebody kidnapped my daughter!

Spot: (running out of the castle and going back to the forest, and then he saw a tower for hiding spot.) HAHAHAHA! I will never get caught! Hahahaha!

-20 Years Later-

Poppy grew up into a beautiful and sad adult, with her rag clothes and her hair is long inches. She swept the floor and sat down in the chair. Spot walking back to and says.

Spot: Rapunzetroll, let’s down your hair now!

Poppy throw down her hair, Spot climbed up and tells her about to do chores and never get out again. With his evil laugh.

Spot: Hahaha! (Slide down out of the tower, pull up her hair.)

Poppy: Let’s me out of here!

The brave prince and his older knight brothers, are got hired by the king, and search for a wanted criminal who kidnapped her, 20 years ago. The prince arrives at the tower.

The Prince: Ahem, Rapunzetroll, let’s down your hair. (Throw down her hair and he climbed up to the top. He saw her and smiled at him.)

The Prince: Are you the lost princess?

Poppy: Yes, I’m Poppy, and I’m a lost princess, I got kidnapped by a criminal, I was a baby. I was being a slave to him.

The Prince: I knew that criminal is out there, but how’s?

Poppy: Are you Prince Branch?

Branch: Yes, I do! My brothers are looking a dangerous criminal. (Held a wanted poster of Spot who’s been charged for kidnapping a princess.)

Poppy: We could set a trap for him. How’s?

Branch: I got some backup, to trap him.

Poppy: I’ll cut my hair short and it’s grew back. (He cuts her hair short and Spot walked to the tower.)

Spot: Rapunzetroll, let’s down your hair! What! I can’t believe, she can’t even hear me! Well the guards are going to capture me! But I’ll come up to the tower. (Climbing up to the top, the brothers sneak up to the tower, they hide behind a table, looking at each chair as he sat down)

Branch playing his guitar in a song by making him asleep.

Spot: Hmm, I wonder if I’m going to…(yawn) sleep (snoring)

Poppy: (whisper) Thank, Branch (kiss on his cheek and make him brush)

Branch: (whisper) Ready

Poppy: (whisper) Ready

Knight #1: (whisper) Let’s bros!

Poppy: (throws her hair pieces like a rope at him, but Spot is awake now, he got stuck in the chair with glue on it) Yes!

Spot: Hey, hey, hey hey! Don’t do that like this and you can’t get out from the tower again! Wait, wait, wait!

The brothers tied Spot in to a notch, Branch got the handcuffs on him. He say.

Spot: NO! Don’t ever arrest me! (Poppy disliked being treated like a slave and kidnapped by him, Tiny Diamond jumps up on the table.)

Tiny Diamond: You can’t get away so easily!

Spot running out of the tower, Tiny Diamond jumped up to Rhonda and hustled towards him.

Tiny Diamond: Treat your own medicine! (Rhonda hustled coming closer to him and then knocked him out of the forest and send him to the dungeon.)

Poppy, Branch and the brothers put him behind bars and he begged for his own mercy.

Spot: I learn my lesson, I swear I sneaked into the castle and treated all the children with responsibility.

Queen Tulips: (walking in and gasping)

Poppy: Hi mom, I’m back! (Queen Tulips hugged her) I’m explaining, Branch and his brothers are my heroes.

King Peppy: Poppy, is that’s you?

Poppy: Dad! (Hugged him)

Viva: Poppy!

Poppy: Viva (Hugged her)

King Peppy and Queen Tulips: Thank you for saving our daughter.

Branch: My pleasure!

They fall in love then they got married and they live together a happily ever after.

The End

#trolls broppy #trolls poppy #trolls branch #trolls dreamworks #trolls oc #trolls fanfic #fairy tales #trolls viva #trolls peppy #SoundCloud

[paraliveimaginesblog]

If it's still possible, I'd like to request coriander, forget-me-not, purple hyacinth, marigold, and yellow tulips for hajun yeon~ thank you and have a nice day <3

Hajun Yeon: 

🌻coriander: what do they love the most about their s/o, both physical and personality-wise?

Hajun always liked that you had a genuine smile. You can tell a great deal from someone’s smile, and yours told him everything he needed to know. It had also been the reason he was hesitant to date you to begin with; your smile was one that shined through all the darkness he hid himself behind. If he dealt with someone like you every day, would it change him? Or would you leave him because he couldn’t match your energy?

🌻forget-me-nots: what do they do to get their s/o’s attention?

Hajun would never claim he wanted attention. And yet, when you were doing something that didn’t allow you to give him even a crumb of your attention you can feel his stare. He’ll normally abruptly interrupt you, possibly in that charming, princely way of his so you don’t get annoyed with him. You know he’s trying to charm you into giving him the attention he wants while making it seem like your idea, but you were a Hajun expert at this point. You gave him your attention willingly.

🌻purple hyacinth: how would they react if their s/o died?

Hajun’s frosty behavior and biting remarks only seem to grow more intense, a certain cruelty to some of his words. There’s a bitter feeling that never seems to leave him after your death, a voice in his head telling him that of course things would turn out this way. 

🌻marigold: how jealous do they get? how do they react when they get jealous?

🌻yellow tulips: if their s/o is sad, what would they do to make them smile again?

Hajun doesn’t really think he should be considered for the whole ‘cheering up’ thing. Emotions already made him feel awkward but he often felt your sour mode reflected on him, so it was hard to help when he was brooding over what had upset you as well. He does know how to give thoughtful little gifts and to slip some food in your room, lips zipped to not further exacerbate the situation, so he hopes those little things help in some way. 

#Hajun Yeon #Paradox Live #Paralive #Paradox Live Imagines #Paralive Imagines #Paradox Live x Reader #Paralive x Reader #Plant Meme #Hajun Yeon x Reader

[sam-glade]

Missing home

For @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt: #FFF205 Where the Flowers grow.

Characters: Ianim, Lissan Setting: Sunblessed Realm WC: 820 CW: -

Context: a couple of months after Lissan moved to the city, near the beginning of Days of Dusk 2

Look, I know this is asking for a flowery, poetic scene, but… I want to write my usual cosy slice of life vignettes when I’m not working on novel-length projects. Also, this turned out much sweeter and fluffier than I intended. Oops.

“So, how are you finding Redguard?” Ianim asked, watching Lissan with polite curiosity.

Lissan stretched an arm over the iron-wrought back of the weathered bench and looked around the small square. It was carved out of a corner of a limestone townhouse, on the eastern side of the river. A lush lilac bush sprawled in the middle of a paved circle, with four benches surrounding it. Ianim took a seat on an adjacent bench.

“It’s… fine.” Lissan’s tone was too guarded.

Ianim leant in, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands.

“But?” he prompted.

“You know what it looked like back home. Green fields, green orchards, green woods. And here, everything is brick and stone. It’s… weird.”

Ianim smiled gently.

“Missing home?”

“A bit, yeah.” Lissan shrugged. “But that’s not what I meant. I’ve got a trip planned next month. It’s just– It would be nice to find a place here that feels a little bit more like home. To go to on a whim, you know?”

Ianim tilted his head, going over the list of landmarks that Redguard had to offer.

“You haven’t had a chance to explore the city, have you?”

~*~

On Sunday morning, Ianim left his horse in the pavilion near the entrance to the park, tipping the stablehand probably more than was customary. Lissan arrived on foot less than ten minutes later, wearing the uniform, although he carried the coatee in his hands. Ianim didn’t blame him, it was already a hot day. He pointed Lissan towards the tall gate crowned with an iron arch, and they delved into the park at a leisurely pace.

They kept to the side of the wide path lined with orange and pink tulips, while horses trotted past them down the middle. Ianim looked after the riders, his attention briefly caught by a beautiful yellow and blue habit worn by a woman roughly his age. He enjoyed watching the people even more than admiring the blooming trees and bushes.

There were multiple Swords in the park, their grey uniform standing out against the shades of green. Groups of friends from different divisions, or couples – often with one person in uniform, one in civilian attire – sat on picnic blankets, around wicker baskets loaded with sweet and savoury snacks. At a bench near a drinking fountain, an older man was gently tapping small hammers on the strings of a battered dulcimer. 

As Ianim guided Lissan towards the arboretum, he refrained from pointing out some of the rarer plants. The ones that were imported from the Sovanese League or from across the Sunset Strait. The ones that were brought by envoys, to celebrate newly-forged relations. The camphor tree planted personally by an ambassador almost seventy years ago. The blue cypress that was gifted to the First Prince because of its colour. He shook his head, reassuring himself that exotic trees certainly wouldn’t remind Lissan of home.

“So? Tell me about this place?” Lissan said, making Ianim jump, and snorted at the reaction.

“What would you like to know?”

“Just… there’s got to be something special about it. You wouldn’t like it so much otherwise.”

Protests died on Ianim’s lips, and he felt his cheeks flush. Yes, he adored the nooks and crannies of the arboretum, but this outing wasn’t for him.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “In a way, it’s a collection to commemorate various events. A lot of the trees were brought from abroad…”

Soon, encouraged gently by Lissan, he found himself summarising the trip across the Inner Sea with his Grandfather, when he was in his teens. How they were given small saplings, and how Grandfather allowed Ianim to plant them during a toned down ceremony.

Lissan let him talk. He enjoyed it, by the looks of it, and only that stopped Ianim from feeling bad about making it all about himself. Again.

He pointed Lissan to the nearest bench and took a seat, stretching his legs.

“I’m sorry,” he said once his excitement waned.

“Huh? What for?” Lissan asked, sitting next to him.

“This… isn’t what you were looking for, is it?”

“Not quite,” Lissan said with an easy shrug. “But it was fun.”

Ianim nodded his thanks.

“Can you tell me what exactly you’re after?”

Lissan leant back and looked around, his eyes scanning the space above people’s heads and smaller bushes, as if he was trying to see the horizon – impossible, of course, since townhouses surrounded the park on all sides.

“I think it's only just occurred to me. Everything in Redguard is so deliberate. Even here, for every tree someone’s made a decision to plant it in that spot.” He scanned the area again, his expression wistful. “I think what I really miss is knowing that sometimes a tree sprouts where the seed fell. That there isn’t a good reason why poppies or cornflowers grow where they do. Sometimes, it’s that simple.”

~*~

Days of Dusk taglist (please message me to +/-): @acertainmoshke @another-white-hole @poetinprose

#snippet #days of dusk #fff205 #flash fiction friday #my writing #writeblr #writing #writers of tumblr

[clocks-are-round]

might continue with rest of characters but i got nervous about writing one for tucker haha i’m not really confident about writing

disclaimer: i have been awake for 20 something hours and might change a lot later. rough draft

-

pink.

it was so beautiful in all its shades. and donut could name many of them from a young age. he memorized the crayons and the flowers in the garden. fuschia, hot pink, salmon, baby pink, carnations, roses, tulips.

he stopped telling people his favorite color after his dad threw away his costumes and “girly toys” as punishment. his favorite color was red now. at least it wasn’t too far away from his secret favorite.

top secret. secret agents. a secret identity. alter ego. he would be the knight to rescue the princess, but in his mind he would picture being the princess. play the role. act. theatre. pretend. daydream. wish.

donut didn’t want to be a girl he decided one day on the farm while doing his daily chores, though he liked “feminine” things. “sissy” things, his dad would say. he wanted to be the princess not because he wasn’t a prince but because he was tired of only being allowed to do princely things. he wanted to be protected by someone one day not because he couldn’t protect himself but because he didn’t want to always be the strong macho protector he felt people expected him to be. that his dad expected him to be.

—

red.

he sipped from his mug. “the blood of my enemies” was what this one said. the only blood he’d seen on the job was when the intern had a nosebleed in the break room. until now. sarge examined the hefty paper cut. his grandfather sure as hell had worse than this on a good day. he died a hero and his office-working grandson was too chickenshit to follow his glorious warpath. he had a family to support… what if he left and never came back? got caught up in the thrill?

if he put one foot out of his current march he’d have nothing holding him to what he was supposed to do. a stable breadwinner for the fling that turned into a newborn and expectations of a life he never wanted. would she understand? would she pull him closer and constrain him, or encourage him to go? maybe she’d get back that red flush in her dimpled cheeks she had before they settled down into the stagnant life they had. back when she smiled. she’d be the fiery woman he’d gotten stiff for at the school dance so many years ago. and she’d find a life that kept that flame going because the life with him sure as shit wasn’t lighting either of their fires.

were these excuses? should he bother with explanation? he was itching to change his name and start a new life in the stars, fighting in memory of his grandfather. a sergeant, and a hero. he could be too

—

orange.

‘not yellow, orange,’ grif told his sister, who shrugged and said, ‘same thing.’

it really wasn’t. he’d never fault kai, she was colorblind, but they were extremely different.

yellow was the tacky suitcase dad carried in when he got back from one of his ‘business trips.’ and the hot wheels car that looked like it was found in a ditch, all scratched up, because dad spent the family’s money on himself until mom got fed up after one too many loans and kicked him out.

gold was mom’s leotard at the circus. shiny and reflective under her dark beard. it attracted attention, it was her job. she could do better. grif was sure of it. but she was afraid to take a leap out of the comfort of the familiar. she came home at varied hours in varying moods and grif loved her but he was tired. so tired of never knowing what to expect. the most routine he had was school, but the rest of his life was being pulled every which way. so so tired.

orange was the apron in the kitchen. the walls in his and kai’s bedroom, their retreat from the world to rest and hang out. the best sunsets over the ocean that made you forget everything else for a while.

orange was the best parts of life.

-

yellow.

what even was color? like obviously color was color but like, seemed kind of overrated. kaikaina got by just fine seeing the world in shades of grey, smutty reference absolutely intended. for real though, people were SO OBSESSED with color. thinking of things ‘in black and white’, fucking racism and colorism too, like even rainbows apparently set some people off.

yellow was supposed to be happiness, for some reason. but it was also the ‘icky’ parts of life. yellow made people think of piss, which was gross— unless you’re into that but kai wasn’t although she gave it a try with that one guy from Kentucky— but also so real, y’know? kai liked to look on the positive side of things but also she craved the real. the gritty grossness of being human. passion wasn’t all butterflies and kisses in the moonlight. for her it was going to the edges of her limits, finding new things to love about sex, love, life.

she wasn’t the girl she was in high school. it started as wanting to prove to herself… something. that she was enough or something. but she left that first experience wanting more. wanting to feel every body shape, learn the best ways to have a good time, to connect with people emotionally and physically, one or both, to feel and feel and feel.

yellow was bright. yellow was in your face. yellow was the girl dismissed as frigid and not beautiful enough, but yellow didn’t care because yellow celebrated life.

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb my fics #rough draft

[the-coiner-prince]

Droweri

[ dr(y) + (fl)ower + i ~~ droweri ]

A gender related / connected to or described as dried flowers , their texture , and muted colours .

[ flag ID : two rectangular flags with seven horizontal stripes, the colours from top to bottom are: brownish purple, bourdeaux red, paprika red, ceramic beige, mustard yellow, muted leaf green, and grayish dark green. on the bottom left of the first flag there are some dried flowers: a sunflower, yellow tulips, a burnt lavender open rose, and a red rosebud. end ID ]

~ day two of @transolar #apocalcoining event ~~ Rot and decay

Coined by the prince 👑

[ PT : Anyone can use the terms that the charming has coined , but ke asks to Please DNI if any of these aply to you: racist, sexist, ageist, antimogai, antiliom, BaB, ableist, transmed, transcum, fujoshi, radfem, terf, proshipper, anti-agere, antifurry, NSFW blogs, (NO)MAP, zoophile, necrophiliac, incestuous or supporter of those who act on these types of paraphilias. end PT ]

#droweri #apocalcoining event #coined by the prince #mogai #liom #mogai blog #liom blog #mogai coining #liom coining #mogai community #liom community #flag coining #term coining #mogai label #liom label #mogai gender #liom gender #mogai term #liom term #mogai safe #liom safe #mogai friendly #liom friendly #actually mogai #category ~ gender

[neopronouns]

a kasvionan gender system in the vein of the prince/princess/royal systems by @pupyzu!

gardener system genders are genders related to being a gardener of [x]/an [x] gardener. they are connected to [x], [x] aesthetics, gardener aesthetics, plant aesthetics, and fleurihood/duilhood. these terms should be named as 'gard[x]' or 'garde[x]' - for example, a tulip gardener system gender might be called 'gardtulip' or 'gardetulip'.

fleuri and duil are terms for a kasvionan person, with fleuri being the equivalent of man/woman and duil the equivaelnt of boy/girl. the top three stripes of the flag are from the kasvionan flag!

to use this template, place it over a ten-stripe flag template and color in the five blank stripes. typically, terms in these gender systems use the same color on the two stripes surrounding the large middle stripe (here's one example and another), but they don't have to.

tags: @creatureboything, @radiomogai!

flag id: a flag in a nine-stripe format, with the fifth stripe being twice as large as the rest. only the first, second, third, and fifth stripes have color, while the rest are transparent. in order, the stripes are dark pink, dark dull yellow-green, dull tan, and cream. end id.

banner id: a 1600x200 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting. those on my / dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. the text takes up two lines, split at the slash. end id.

dni link

#gardener system #kasvionan #my flags #my terms #new flag #new term #mogai flag #mogai term #mogai #role system #role gender system

[heartsdefine]

primary muse starter call — accepting! ↳ @korolnichevoya

        Sankta Sigyn of the Staying Power, Lady of the Healing Hands, has not had a visitor like this in many years. She steps lightly, barefoot, through her garden of many flowers, pale yellow gown trailing in the grass. She does not acknowledge him at first, focusing instead on selecting several blossoms from an overflowing shrub before she turns to him at last.

        "Young Prince of Springtime." She reaches out a delicate hand to gently tuck a pale green tulip behind his ear. "Green, for new beginnings." A second, colorless tulip is offered then. "And white, for my condolences." Clear blue eyes study his face, the former King of Ravka, her expression curious. "Why have you come?"

#we can totally talk/plot something if necessary but i'm just #throwin sankta sigyn at you for now even tho idk what this is #maybe a last ditch effort to find a cure for the demon???????? #re; sigyn. ( the epitome of all things healing and good ) #ic; sigyn. #starters; sigyn. #v; sigyn grisha. ( sankta of the staying power ) #korolnichevoya #.01; korolnichevoya #int; sigyn & nikolai.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Fire: share a snippet with some dialogue you’d like to show off

Tail: share a fluffy or cozy snippet

(skip meeeee if they've already been asked 💜)

Thank you for the ask! From this ask game.

Feeling the urge to answer the rest of those with Glass Shards.

Fire: share a snippet with some dialogue you’d like to show off

I recently dug through some chapters to find something, and I came across this, and I still love it <3

Damien pulled her closer. “Why don’t you show me what this town has to offer? Other than lavender, that is.” She smiled. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but her voice was steady as she pointed to a random flowerpot sporting yellow and red blooms. “Daffodils. And Tulips.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him along, no longer with the same urgency as before. “Marigold,” she exclaimed, pointing one way, and “Cornflower,” pointing another. Damien grinned as she somehow found flower after flower to show him, even if most of them were not in bloom yet, had barely begun to sprout. After reaching a small square, she turned towards a series of low shrubs in front of an official looking building. “Bleeding Heart.” She pointed down. “Snapdragon.” With a sweeping motion, she encompassed some plants Damien would have taken for weeds. “Creeping Baby’s Breath.” Damien raised his eyebrows at the unremarkable green growth. “Now you’re just making things up.”

Tail: share a fluffy or cozy snippet

Glass Shards is so much known for all the fluff, amiright?

This one's on the longer side, so I'll put it under a cut.

Damien sighed. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Merridy shook her head. “Do you wanna do something else?” She looked up and around the room, scanning the furniture and boxes. There were a few things she could use to keep herself busy, but the chances that she would succeed were rather low. Damien was still waiting for a reply, though, so she forced herself to shrug. “I could read to you,” Damien then offered. “You?” Merridy asked, incredulously. Damien raised his eyebrows and Merridy gasped. “Sorry, that was rude,” she mumbled. She was used to him being so taciturn, this offer had taken her by surprise. But Damien only laughed. “How hard can it be?” he said, an amused gleam in his eyes Merridy couldn’t quite place. “It’s just a bunch of letters, isn’t it?” He put the wax tablet aside and held out his hand. “Come on.” Merridy got up, walked the few steps to the bed and handed him the book. Instead of returning to her chair, she sat down on the far end of the bed, pulling her legs up and under the blanket that was still wrapped around her shoulders. Damien looked at the book, mock concentration on his face as he started to read. “There was one… once,” he said, pointing at each word with his finger. “A rich man, whose wife did… died.” Damien read slowly, and with every sentence more mistakes sneaked in. Forgotten letters, wrong words that didn’t make sense, spelling out the longer ones letter by letter and still taking two tries to get them right. “You’re pulling my leg,” Merridy said after Damien had misread the word ‘anxious’ three times. He paused, looking up from the book without lifting his finger. The look of hurt on his face didn’t seem quite real, and he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards. “You think so?” When Merridy didn’t reply, he leaned back, taking his finger from the page and using his hand to prop his book against his leg instead. “How about I try it again?” Merridy watched him straighten the page, take a deep breath — and then all her thoughts were swept away as he started to read in earnest. She had always thought that his voice was pleasant, but now it was warm and rich, enunciating each word perfectly. It brought to life kitchen and castles, glass and silk, princes and maids. She curled up at the foot of the bed and closed her eyes, listening to him read in different voices for each one who spoke. A tear escaped her eyes as the maid fled from the castle, leaving the prince she was in love with behind.

#salad-ask #writingkate #this ask is not oc related #listen it's 132k words plus bonus chapters #there's more than one thing to show :3

[ammonitetestpatterns]

the evening skies of prince george, i saw them as a causeway to hellfire cradletipping out of breathless space, hinting that maybe, hell prefers enclosure and feels exposed at extreme parallels. kintsugi scars, blinding cream yellow, the mistold fortune of a world looted of locality, your eyes are the ransom paid for the last bit of natural mystery, handed over to unreel the pastripened azimuth. was this daylight meant to repair the night? he walked with me through homemade forest trails, advertising to mosquitoes. the sun gilded arrows onto leaves, our arms locking round the other’s waist. for an instant, he jolted with the lost memory of a free trial girlfriend, parting the thicket of dissociative brain damage only for it to recoil back into place. clamoring up, batting bugs and sweat, we found the horizon of a lookout on accident. it caught us with an elegiac feeling, the tension of the changing light. a curving armory of evergreens to entrust the city history before the letter and the ledger. i wondered if this place would ever regain its holocene prestige and surrender back to immemorial waters. a small furor then, entertaining which invisible forces are most likely to affect the accumulation and exchange of social energy by its common means, a density of presence. at least, we were both “feeling it.”

this was beyond any doubt one of my most important trips. the pine boughs responded in their sway, my sensitivity to forgone home, placefulness, the sense of having business somewhere. jonas said with the satyric nonchalance that often hides his spite, you were locked outside consciousness, you lost your key with the loss of the impossible family. he takes himself to be at the end of consciousness, i feel my judgment falling to the end of telemachus. under the same skies that melted him all those years ago, all the catastrophic beauty punctuated by its alienation from the earthly/georgic homing of the human and the mirage of its loss after thought, how dishonesty comes to rot, it all fuses down to the productivity of nature, world without end, an accomplice we can barely understand. why won’t my mind’s poison arrow find him, why can’t i bring myself to hate him? the woundsalted blame, repressed bloodrooted longing for the maternal, strangeness, lying with the wolf, the gold of reality taken between his teeth. reunion, breakdown of the manifold with her smile.

as we made it out, night now inaugurate to its depth in low dying bands of blue, my companion beside me mounted his respect for judas, taking seriously the determinist explanation for his betrayal, the solemn pain, brandishing the social logic localized to a blink of time, for a prophecy of the higher good, mass forgiveness and resonance to form, way past the matter scatter. the paradoxical strength in sinning and willing to be misunderstood and reviled for lifetimes to come, we held a look and felt a sliver of the same. the mortal kiss, such a harrowing, complicated picture of evil.

the touch memory placed me in the same motor mold of late may, real people romance walking under heavy crepuscular glow, gathering lilac bushels and tulips wherever they laced our path, satchels of new herbs in our pockets. my head mooned with the realization that threatened to restore all before me to an imagined valor of unity, how much i respect you, always for who you are, i want to sow your quiet field to a harvest of dreams. like a saint to me, with the smile of a devil! sharing dreams, timeless against the lapse of the scent, however deep its momentary pull. there is an ineffable essence to dreaming and hoping that cannot be uncovered and had elsewhere, the foldless desire for a better day that is lyrical, thin, ephemeral and tender, that threshold of expansion. it compels you back to childhood without overstaying, the progression of the generational cohort at the beginning of consciousness, “we all have a dream, maybe.” in darkened dovelike bed, the first after days of roadside sleep, he placed a square of dark chocolate on my tongue and brought umeshu to my lips, velvety plum like the tulips. terpenes simplified to lipids and even further, the virtual cataclysm of synthases.

what is left after orison? spectacular sunrise, waking out of the offal, over the skew of every shutout star, one speck in the dust ramble, torn by thoughtless time. being ready to live outside the impresses of the external drilled inward, crossing, cut exposure, cardinality of tongue, carrion signs, pointer posture. walking to make not only nature, but a circulatory, somatic awareness into your accomplice against communal death, vanishing inlets. within the boundaries of the individual, the body is a means and not an ends, the self is an ever attractive block.

#text

[fionagardens]

Tulips planted in tubs to protect them from slug damage, and handy for putting wherever I feel needs a burst of colour. These pink, purple and yellow tulips are the same variety although different colours, and so reliably flower together. They are called the Prince Collection and sold by my favourite bulb supplier, Bloms (whose catalogue is my favourite Autumn reading…)

#cotswoldsgarden #cotswolds #gardening #garden #gardener #cotswoldgarden #spring gardening #springgardening #spring flowers #tulips #bloms

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Garden Masterlist

a little peace (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Phil comes in from a day of working in the garden.

Blossom - crescendohowell

Summary: Phil is a rich businessman who decides to leave the city in favor of buying a house in the country. He expected to find beauty in the house and the surrounding gardens, but he didn’t account for a cute gardener who loves flowers and hates him.

come slow and overload (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: The first time he'd seen Phil, tending to the roses in the formal garden, his breath had caught in his throat and he'd stared for a little too long and wanted.

garden camping (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: They sit in Phil's parents' garden, sharing childhood stories and making plans for the future.

Garden Musings (ao3) - farkenshnoffingottom, heyitsnxel

Summary: Dan and Phil discuss gardens and future plans, fluff ensues.

he kept tulips in the kitchen. (ao3) - gremlinhours

Summary: dan doesn't know if he'll ever be enough for anyone, but in the meantime, he tends to his garden, unminding of the world.

phil works at his favourite flowershop.

Howell with a Trowel (ao3) - philsdrill

Summary: Dan, known professionally as ‘Howell with a Trowel’, is an agender gardener who identifies more with plants than other people. Phil starts out as a regular passerby, until an intervention from his dog gets them talking. Dan talks in plant metaphors, which slowly becomes something that Phil can’t get enough of.

Midnight Garden (ao3) - silentdescant

Summary: He who plants a garden plants happiness.

In which Phil is a gardener at the palace and Dan is a reclusive prince.

sunflowers (ao3) - spaceandvinyls

Summary: dan has bad allergies and it's the sunflowers in phil's yard that are causing them.

I've seen sunny days (that I thought would never end) (ao3) - nothingbutniall

Summary: Phil can’t remember the last time it rained and his garden is suffering. Dan doesn't care about the garden, but he cares about the bees, and Phil.

Smoke and Flowers - cherrihearts

Summary: high school!/teenage! phan au in which Phil tends to the flowers and plants in the greenhouse behind his school and eventually finds himself completely smitten with the boy who sometimes smokes outside his door--Dan Howell. 

The Boy In The Garden (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan Howell and Phil Lester had nothing in common. But when the two of them end up working together in the abandoned school garden, will friendship- or something more- develop between them?

The Garden (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dans father, the King of Corevia, insists that dan needs to marry a princess. Dan, however, has someone else in mind.

Watchful (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: Phil is part of one of the world’s most famous paranormal investigator groups, along with his friends Joe, Zoe and Louise. The never before investigated Harrowick Penitentiary catches the group’s attention, and they settle in the town for a week long investigation. Most importantly, they hope to make contact with one spirit in particular, Dan Howell, who was falsely imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit, and was murdered in the building. When Dan becomes attached to Phil, things become a lot more complicated.

We have all night to fall in love (ao3) - Antisocialbutterflie

Summary: Phil looked out of the window after checking his watch. He grinned when he saw the young man walk up his stone steps into the garden behind his house.

Yellow - washedoutgay

Summary: Please stop picking flowers from my garden au/ Dan really likes yellow and his cat really likes Phil

#phanfictioncatalogue #phan #phanfic #dan and phil #phanfiction #masterlists #garden #garden masterlist

[aohendo]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks for the tag, @eccaiia!

My words were anything to do with plants. Fortunately, I had a scene set in a forest :)

Leaf

The tea cup heated his hands, and Kiris stared into it a moment, watching a small leaf float in the warmth. “You suspect Dargoulvga will stage a rebellion against the Turre?”

“Strauv is competing for survival; Dargoulvga faces none of our concerns.”

Dargoulvga, unshackling the Turre yoke. Kiris would believe when he saw it, and he hadn’t seen it yet. He’d seen war, and he’d seen death and despair and flames reaching into the night, acrid smoke filling his lungs as buildings collapsed around him—through him, as happened with Prophecy—but he had not seen a Nelovskevouk triumph over ‘L Tuola and the crushing might of her army.

Forest (or trees, or moss, or green I guess?)

The sword withdrew and the bandit collapsed onto the ground. Kiris couldn’t look away as their blue-white soul faded into the trees. He couldn’t move as their body bled over his boots. The moss-green of the Soils Affiliate was the brightest thing in the forest, and slowly, achingly slowly, Kiris tore his eyes from the lifeless smear of the bandit and to the bandit’s killer.

Tree

A pool of light moved through the forest, casting trees in stark black and sending their shadows dancing along the forest floor. Soon, light, rather than darkness, dappled against Kiris and the swordsman, and Kiris forced the Realms to thicken so his eyes wouldn’t betray him. The swordsman, whose clothes were rich despite being designed for travel, whose sword scabbard was royally adorned in gold, and whose face was altogether too pretty to be in a forest killing bandits in the middle of the night, stood before him.

Kiris swallowed, and it was only partially because the swordsman was nice to look at. “Prince Nelovskevouk?”

Root

Three quirks, and the Realms thinned for empathy, Kiris’ forearms glowing just as they had for the bubbles. Aris’ emotions, like a harmony of bells and a minstrel’s strings, swelled into his attention. There was trepidation there, that little rumble like a caravan crossing the Plateau, but none of dishonesty’s goblet tones. A little farther, and Kiris knew the instant he entered Projection. Aris’ soul quivered yellow, surprise buzzing like a bee. Gently, ever so gently, Kiris hummed the sound of happiness. It rooted into Aris, overlaying his bee-buzz and trepidation-rumbles in summer-song. And then, just as quickly, Kiris removed it; the sound of silence, his room under Toor Temple in the deadened softness of winter.

Tulip (or floral, or flower, or stem…)

The Boyars’ meeting room was old and worn. Once, it had been painted kirsk-shell blue, and flashes the color of the midnight sky still speckled the walls. It smelled of dust and moths, underlain by the floral bite of fresh-picked tulips tucked carefully into a vase by one of the Boyars’ children. The room—not the flowers—matched the Boyars themselves.

Kiris pulled a Lights white tulip from the vase and twined its stem, unyielding, in his fingers. “If you want Prince Nazvili to withdraw this regulation, you must remind her of her status.”

Tagging: @jess-p-edits, @smilingpaperbag, @oh-no-another-idea, and @authorofstories55! Your words are anything to do with the sky (clouds, sunsets, rain, etc.)

#find the word #tag game #princeforhire #writing #writblr #writerblr #wip